The Way of Restraint

Chapter 124: Encounter with God-Maker Odell

The battered van sped down the winding road. Despite its condition, its speed was still astonishing. Every now and then, other cars appeared, but they only saw the van whoosh past, leaving them in a cloud of dust.

“Once we get to the main highway, there’ll be fewer obstacles. The van can go even faster,” Zhang Manman said. “If we drive another day and night, we’ll reach the border. Once we cross, in just a few hours we can get to another city and catch a flight back home.”

‘We really haven’t run into another ambush along the way,’ Zhang Jinchuan thought. He knew this had to be the Zhang family’s influence at work. Otherwise, their chances of survival would’ve been slim.

But that was within his expectations. The reasons he dared to risk this trip with Zhang Manman were threefold: first, to strike at the Feng family and weaken an enemy; second, the enormous wealth to be gained; and third, with Zhang Hongqing protecting Manman, the dangers would likely end up as mere close calls.

“Su Jie, what are you thinking about?”

Throughout the journey, Su Jie had kept silent, eyes closed, resting.

The more Zhang Jinchuan observed him, the more he felt this man had value. He was already scheming about how to recruit Su Jie into his company, to bind him completely to his service.

‘From his appearance and bearing, Su Jie has great fortune, enough to complete my own fate,’ Zhang Jinchuan judged, using his art of physiognomy. ‘If I can secure him, it’s like Liu Bang gaining Zhang Liang and Han Xin, plus Xiao He and Chen Ping. In fact, it’s true. His ability aside, the team behind him—his sister Su Muchen’s team—is one of Haoyu’s most important tech groups. If I can poach Su Jie and bring him to my company, our technology will explode with growth. I have countless ideas right now, but I lack the technical backing.’

Jinchuan himself understood technology—and was no slouch. Precisely because of that, he knew just how crucial it was.

His company had hit a bottleneck. The only way forward was tech.

“I’m just resting,” Su Jie opened his eyes.

“There’s a roadblock up ahead. Be careful,” Zhang Manman warned.

The van slowed and came to a stop.

Up ahead, two cars seemed overturned across the road. A few shabby buildings stood nearby, perfect for hiding ambushers. Everything about the scene screamed “trouble.”

Su Jie knew in this lawless land, roads were often broken—or blocked by bandits demanding tolls, or robbing and killing outright. That was why doing business here was so hard.

Of course, the blocked transport routes also meant sky-high prices. Anyone who could deliver goods stood to make a fortune.

“No one around,” Zhang Jinchuan reported after sliding out, crawling to cover, and scouting.

Su Jie and Zhang Manman exited instantly, splitting up to survey the area.

Manman checked her watch—her infrared radar showed no heat sources. No one was lying in wait.

“Should we move the cars and keep going?” Su Jie asked. He didn’t act yet; he knew danger often hid in the obvious.

“Careful. Could be mines or bombs among them. Let’s check again. High-tech jammers could also block the sensors.” After a moment, Zhang Manman pulled a grenade from her pack and lobbed it at the wrecks.

Boom!

The cars blew apart somewhat, no secondary explosions.

“Seems safe.” After a while longer, and with Su Jie double-checking, Manman nodded. “Now we can clear the way.”

The three moved to drag the wrecks aside.

“Someone!”

Jinchuan froze, alert.

Manman and Su Jie sensed it too. Before one of the houses by the road, a figure had appeared—tall, masked. The mask was a panda’s face, cartoonish and absurd, like a theme park mascot.

But none of them felt like laughing.

Whoosh!

Jinchuan flicked his hand—at some point he’d drawn a dagger. It shot at the panda-masked man like lightning.

“So fast!” Su Jie was startled. In the instant Jinchuan threw, his body barely moved, but the blade flashed forth like it had sprung from inside him. His throwing technique was so flawless it seemed like magic—an ultimate hidden weapon skill, honed through endless training.

This was Jinchuan’s true art: lethal hidden weapons.

Though despised in martial tradition, in real combat, few things were deadlier.

Even a year’s training in throwing knives could let someone kill a national fighting champion of ten years.

The old escort agencies were named for this—”biao” meant both dart and cargo. Hidden weapons were once essential survival tools on the road.

As soon as Jinchuan threw, Su Jie realized: if Jinchuan ever turned on him, he might not be able to dodge.

But the panda mask shifted—and the dagger missed. The figure closed in instantly.

His movements were ghostlike, almost ignoring gravity. If he used that footwork to dance, he’d outdo Michael Jackson’s moonwalk.

‘So that’s how the moonwalk can be used in fighting?’ flashed through Su Jie’s mind.

But this man’s “moonwalk” was fused with combat footwork—sliding, gliding, weaving like a boxer’s butterfly steps. He seemed weightless, flickering like a phantom.

In barely a second, he was upon Jinchuan.

Wham!

A palm pressed his neck—pinching a nerve. Jinchuan collapsed without a sound.

Su Jie moved to help, Manman raised her gun—but the panda-masked man ducked before she could fire, slid forward, bumped her gently, and she dropped unconscious.

Su Jie felt danger like never before.

In the blink of an eye, both comrades were down—dead or alive, he couldn’t tell. He couldn’t even lock onto the opponent’s position.

Still, he resolved to fight to the death.

He roared—a dragon’s cry, a tiger’s roar. He inhaled deep, then blasted it out from gut to throat, shaking his body and spirit.

In that instant, he forgot fear, forgot life and death. Time and space vanished. His psyche reached a realm he had never touched before.

He couldn’t even feel his body anymore.

He launched—the “Hoe Strike.”

In the face of his comrades’ defeat, his will flared fiercer than under gunfire. Spirit, energy, intent—everything rose higher.

Boom!

This strike, he believed, could tear apart mountains.

But when it hit, it was like striking the mythical pillar holding up the heavens. The man didn’t budge.

Shhht!

The panda-masked man caught his move, seized his clothes, and with a mighty heave, flung him.

Su Jie hit the ground, rolled several times. Momentum slammed his head into a rock—blood flowed down his face. His bones were intact, just torn skin. Thanks to his hard-trained body, what would’ve cracked an ordinary skull left him only bloodied.

Drenched in blood, numb to pain, Su Jie got up. Eyes fixed on the panda mask, ready to fight again.

At that moment, grief and resolve welled in him—the feeling of being the last soldier after his homeland had fallen and comrades all slain.

Nothing left.

Only a warrior’s death remained.

But then, the panda-masked man waved—and removed the mask.

Su Jie’s eyes widened.

It was Odell!

The God-Maker.

His first coach, his mentor.

“Didn’t expect you to become this strong,” Odell said. His βeijing-accented voice was firm and resonant. His stubbled face looked weathered, yet his eyes shone with deep clarity.

“Coach… it’s you.” Su Jie wiped blood from his eyes with his sleeve. To outsiders, his face was ghastly, but he didn’t care. “Why did you… them…”

“They’re fine. Just unconscious,” Odell replied, studying Su Jie closely. “The account I gave you—you never logged in, yet you’ve trained to this level? As for why I’m here… it’s because of that girl’s father.”

He pointed at Zhang Manman.