Chapter 9: Bullet Time.

“This is bad!”

Shiyue cursed inwardly. She turned to bolt, but her path was blocked both front and back. Facing two looming plastic pipes, she realized that she would have to knock at least one of them down to stand a chance of escaping.

I have to tank a hit.

Making a split-second judgment, Shiyue charged straight toward one of the men. Her goal was to create distance from the attacker behind her to open up a route for escape. Seeing her dare to rush him, the man raised his pipe and swung it viciously toward her head. Shiyue grit her teeth, raising her left arm to absorb the blow. She planned to endure the hit, then use her right hand to strike his vitals and stun him long enough to make a break for it.

Thwack.

Shiyue had braced herself for internal bleeding or a fracture in her left arm. But despite the crisp sound of impact, the anticipated agony never arrived. It was strange; she definitely felt the tactile sensation of the blow landing, but it was unexpectedly painless.

“Hah!”

With no time to dwell on the oddity, Shiyue drove her right fist ruthlessly into the man’s left cheek. His face, already gaunt with high cheekbones, seemed to cave in on one side. The punch was unexpectedly ferocious, sending him staggering sideways until he toppled over completely.

Shiyue was momentarily baffled—was I always this strong?

But she didn’t linger on the thought. She threw her legs forward, ready to flee, when a sharp whistling sound cut through the air behind her. A sudden, stinging pain exploded across her shoulder blade. Shiyue skidded to a halt and looked back; the other beggar, realizing he couldn’t catch her, had simply hurled his plastic pipe in an attempt to knock her out.

The pipe hit her back with a heavy thud before clattering and rolling away on the ground.

The skin on her back felt like it had broken; the stinging pain sent a flush of heat through her body. The beggar rushed up to her, shouting for her to freeze as he reached out to grapple her. Shiyue wasn’t about to be a sitting duck. She reached out and seized his outstretched hand. The beggar hadn’t expected her to counter-grapple, and in that split second of hesitation, Shiyue delivered a high kick straight to his chest, sending him sprawling onto his back.

At this point, the beggar who had led her here—Old Jin—finally snapped out of his daze. He realized that in the blink of an eye, his three “brothers” were either down or injured. Clutching his still-aching nose, he raised a hand in panic.

“Wait! Wait! Don’t hit me! I—”

Before he could finish, Shiyue dashed over, grabbed his arm, and kicked his knee hard. As he buckled, she slammed him to the ground, twisted his arms behind his back, and planted her foot firmly on his neck.

“Don’t you dare move!”

“I didn’t… please don’t hit me… just listen to us…”

Under the pale streetlights, their skewed shadows overlapped. Old Jin begged for mercy as Shiyue pinned him, terrified she would snap his arm. The other three scrambled to their feet, swaying unsteadily. Seeing their companion pinned, one tried to pick up a stick to charge again but was hurriedly shouted down by the others.

“Stop fighting… Everyone stop!”

Shiyue didn’t dare let her guard down. She removed her foot but kept a tight grip on Old Jin’s neck and arms, hauling him up. She used significant force, causing Old Jin to yelp in pain. Shiyue stared them down vigilantly, staying silent.

“Okay, okay, any more fighting and someone’s going to die. Little sister, let him go, we can talk this out…”

“…Which way is the police station?”

“The police station is far! It’d take you all night to walk there! Where’s your phone? Can’t you just call…”

“I don’t have a phone.”

Drip, drop. Cold rain began to fall on Shiyue’s face. It was starting to rain. Shiyue paused.

“I lost my phone, and I don’t have money. If you have any, lend it to me.”

“This…” The beggars looked at each other in dismay. One stepped forward and said, “Do we look like we have money?”

“Didn’t you say picking through trash pays well?”

Shiyue tightened her grip, making it hard for Old Jin to breathe. He grimaced bitterly, “Who said that? If it really paid well, who’d be out here begging… ow, ow… let go… I’m going to die…”

“…”

The rain intensified, turning from stray drops into a fine, dense drizzle during their conversation. Shiyue’s clothes, which had just barely dried, were getting soaked again.

Thud. Shiyue shoved Old Jin to the ground. The other three scrambled to help him up. Suddenly, the beggar who had taken the first hit and punch—Old Liang—erupted in rage. Roaring “You’re asking for death!”, he swung a fist wildly toward Shiyue’s face.

“Brother Liang, don’t—”

“Hey, get back here!”

Shiyue hadn’t expected the guy to attack so suddenly. In her normal state, at such close range, she would never have been able to dodge a surprise punch; she would have had to take it.

But as she focused on the fist growing larger in her vision, she realized it was taking a strangely long time to reach her face.

…?!

Shiyue’s eyes widened. The beggar hadn’t stopped moving, nor had time frozen. It felt more like that moment when you are deeply focused and glance at a ticking clock—the second hand seems to hang there for a fraction of a second before resuming its rhythm. A momentary dilation of the flow of time.

Bu… Bullet Time?!

The term popped into her head instantly, conjuring images of The Matrix and dodging bullets in slow motion.

But she had no time to analyze it. She sidestepped his fist, grabbed his outstretched arm with one hand and his hair with the other, and ruthlessly slammed his head downward.

Thud.

His forehead smashed into the pavement. A large, bloody contusion formed instantly, and he cried out in agony.

“Don’t move, or I’ll break his arm!”

Terrified by Shiyue’s exasperated tone, the other three stared at her back as she pinned their companion, hovering but daring not to approach. Their shadows stretched long and eerie under the ghastly streetlamp, looking like wandering ghosts in the night.

After a tense standoff lasting about ten seconds, Old Jin gathered his courage and approached Shiyue. “Little sister, don’t be angry, it’s my fault, don’t hurt my brother,” he soothed, while simultaneously walking around to the pinned beggar and kicking him.

“Old Liang, why do you have to cause trouble? Bullying a weak girl, what is wrong with you? Apologize! Hurry up!”

He gave him another nudge with his foot. Old Liang struggled for a moment, realized he couldn’t break free, and finally begged for mercy. “It… it was me being stupid… stop hitting me, I give up!”

Seeing this, the other two beggars also chimed in with apologies. After another minute of stalemate, Shiyue slowly released him.

The rain was getting heavier. Shiyue tilted her head, signaling for them to go into the small warehouse nearby to take cover. The beggars followed her meekly. Pushing open the door, she saw various blankets spread haphazardly on the floor, along with an assortment of pots and pans. They even had a washbasin stand. It seemed these beggars lived here.

Shiyue leaned back against the wall, coldly watching the beggars shivering as they wiped off the rain. She was about to ask to borrow money for a cab home… when a thought suddenly struck her. She changed her question.

“Are there any schools around here?”

“Schools? Yeah.” Old Jin rubbed his sore arm, his facial features twisted in discomfort. “There’s a primary school, a middle school, and a…”

“Where is the middle school?”

Shiyue remembered the school uniforms of the boys she had seen earlier; they were clearly middle schoolers. A beggar next to Old Liang answered, “Mochanghu Middle School… it’s straight that way, about an hour’s walk. Why do you ask?”

“…Do you guys have face masks?”

“Yeah. What for?” Old Jin pointed to a pile of junk in the corner. It was a heap of discarded items, including some used masks. Shiyue noticed a worn-out baseball cap in the pile as well.

“Masks, and your jacket. Lend them to me.”

“Huh?”

“Lend them to me!”

Without waiting for permission, Shiyue grabbed his jacket, dug out some usable masks, a hat, and an umbrella. Then, she pushed the door open and walked out.

“This is bad!”

Shiyue cursed inwardly. She turned to bolt, but her path was blocked both front and back. Facing two looming plastic pipes, she realized that she would have to knock at least one of them down to stand a chance of escaping.

I have to tank a hit.

Making a split-second judgment, Shiyue charged straight toward one of the men. Her goal was to create distance from the attacker behind her to open up a route for escape. Seeing her dare to rush him, the man raised his pipe and swung it viciously toward her head. Shiyue grit her teeth, raising her left arm to absorb the blow. She planned to endure the hit, then use her right hand to strike his vitals and stun him long enough to make a break for it.

Thwack.

Shiyue had braced herself for internal bleeding or a fracture in her left arm. But despite the crisp sound of impact, the anticipated agony never arrived. It was strange; she definitely felt the tactile sensation of the blow landing, but it was unexpectedly painless.

“Hah!”

With no time to dwell on the oddity, Shiyue drove her right fist ruthlessly into the man’s left cheek. His face, already gaunt with high cheekbones, seemed to cave in on one side. The punch was unexpectedly ferocious, sending him staggering sideways until he toppled over completely.

Shiyue was momentarily baffled—was I always this strong?

But she didn’t linger on the thought. She threw her legs forward, ready to flee, when a sharp whistling sound cut through the air behind her. A sudden, stinging pain exploded across her shoulder blade. Shiyue skidded to a halt and looked back; the other beggar, realizing he couldn’t catch her, had simply hurled his plastic pipe in an attempt to knock her out.

The pipe hit her back with a heavy thud before clattering and rolling away on the ground.

The skin on her back felt like it had broken; the stinging pain sent a flush of heat through her body. The beggar rushed up to her, shouting for her to freeze as he reached out to grapple her. Shiyue wasn’t about to be a sitting duck. She reached out and seized his outstretched hand. The beggar hadn’t expected her to counter-grapple, and in that split second of hesitation, Shiyue delivered a high kick straight to his chest, sending him sprawling onto his back.

At this point, the beggar who had led her here—Old Jin—finally snapped out of his daze. He realized that in the blink of an eye, his three “brothers” were either down or injured. Clutching his still-aching nose, he raised a hand in panic.

“Wait! Wait! Don’t hit me! I—”

Before he could finish, Shiyue dashed over, grabbed his arm, and kicked his knee hard. As he buckled, she slammed him to the ground, twisted his arms behind his back, and planted her foot firmly on his neck.

“Don’t you dare move!”

“I didn’t… please don’t hit me… just listen to us…”

Under the pale streetlights, their skewed shadows overlapped. Old Jin begged for mercy as Shiyue pinned him, terrified she would snap his arm. The other three scrambled to their feet, swaying unsteadily. Seeing their companion pinned, one tried to pick up a stick to charge again but was hurriedly shouted down by the others.

“Stop fighting… Everyone stop!”

Shiyue didn’t dare let her guard down. She removed her foot but kept a tight grip on Old Jin’s neck and arms, hauling him up. She used significant force, causing Old Jin to yelp in pain. Shiyue stared them down vigilantly, staying silent.

“Okay, okay, any more fighting and someone’s going to die. Little sister, let him go, we can talk this out…”

“…Which way is the police station?”

“The police station is far! It’d take you all night to walk there! Where’s your phone? Can’t you just call…”

“I don’t have a phone.”

Drip, drop. Cold rain began to fall on Shiyue’s face. It was starting to rain. Shiyue paused.

“I lost my phone, and I don’t have money. If you have any, lend it to me.”

“This…” The beggars looked at each other in dismay. One stepped forward and said, “Do we look like we have money?”

“Didn’t you say picking through trash pays well?”

Shiyue tightened her grip, making it hard for Old Jin to breathe. He grimaced bitterly, “Who said that? If it really paid well, who’d be out here begging… ow, ow… let go… I’m going to die…”

“…”

The rain intensified, turning from stray drops into a fine, dense drizzle during their conversation. Shiyue’s clothes, which had just barely dried, were getting soaked again.

Thud. Shiyue shoved Old Jin to the ground. The other three scrambled to help him up. Suddenly, the beggar who had taken the first hit and punch—Old Liang—erupted in rage. Roaring “You’re asking for death!”, he swung a fist wildly toward Shiyue’s face.

“Brother Liang, don’t—”

“Hey, get back here!”

Shiyue hadn’t expected the guy to attack so suddenly. In her normal state, at such close range, she would never have been able to dodge a surprise punch; she would have had to take it.

But as she focused on the fist growing larger in her vision, she realized it was taking a strangely long time to reach her face.

…?!

Shiyue’s eyes widened. The beggar hadn’t stopped moving, nor had time frozen. It felt more like that moment when you are deeply focused and glance at a ticking clock—the second hand seems to hang there for a fraction of a second before resuming its rhythm. A momentary dilation of the flow of time.

Bu… Bullet Time?!

The term popped into her head instantly, conjuring images of The Matrix and dodging bullets in slow motion.

But she had no time to analyze it. She sidestepped his fist, grabbed his outstretched arm with one hand and his hair with the other, and ruthlessly slammed his head downward.

Thud.

His forehead smashed into the pavement. A large, bloody contusion formed instantly, and he cried out in agony.

“Don’t move, or I’ll break his arm!”

Terrified by Shiyue’s exasperated tone, the other three stared at her back as she pinned their companion, hovering but daring not to approach. Their shadows stretched long and eerie under the ghastly streetlamp, looking like wandering ghosts in the night.

After a tense standoff lasting about ten seconds, Old Jin gathered his courage and approached Shiyue. “Little sister, don’t be angry, it’s my fault, don’t hurt my brother,” he soothed, while simultaneously walking around to the pinned beggar and kicking him.

“Old Liang, why do you have to cause trouble? Bullying a weak girl, what is wrong with you? Apologize! Hurry up!”

He gave him another nudge with his foot. Old Liang struggled for a moment, realized he couldn’t break free, and finally begged for mercy. “It… it was me being stupid… stop hitting me, I give up!”

Seeing this, the other two beggars also chimed in with apologies. After another minute of stalemate, Shiyue slowly released him.

The rain was getting heavier. Shiyue tilted her head, signaling for them to go into the small warehouse nearby to take cover. The beggars followed her meekly. Pushing open the door, she saw various blankets spread haphazardly on the floor, along with an assortment of pots and pans. They even had a washbasin stand. It seemed these beggars lived here.

Shiyue leaned back against the wall, coldly watching the beggars shivering as they wiped off the rain. She was about to ask to borrow money for a cab home… when a thought suddenly struck her. She changed her question.

“Are there any schools around here?”

“Schools? Yeah.” Old Jin rubbed his sore arm, his facial features twisted in discomfort. “There’s a primary school, a middle school, and a…”

“Where is the middle school?”

Shiyue remembered the school uniforms of the boys she had seen earlier; they were clearly middle schoolers. A beggar next to Old Liang answered, “Mochanghu Middle School… it’s straight that way, about an hour’s walk. Why do you ask?”

“…Do you guys have face masks?”

“Yeah. What for?” Old Jin pointed to a pile of junk in the corner. It was a heap of discarded items, including some used masks. Shiyue noticed a worn-out baseball cap in the pile as well.

“Masks, and your jacket. Lend them to me.”

“Huh?”

“Lend them to me!”

Without waiting for permission, Shiyue grabbed his jacket, dug out some usable masks, a hat, and an umbrella. Then, she pushed the door open and walked out.