Chapter Ninety-Two: Fu Yang’s First Battle

“Damn it... you little brat, why the hell are you not running anymore? Give me back my wallet! Let’s just let this go. Otherwise, not only will you get a beating, I’ll also turn you over to the police!”

The instant Fu Yang finished speaking, a burst of harsh, rasping laughter came from the mouth of the alley behind him.

It sounded like someone scraping nails furiously across a blackboard—shrill, grating, and utterly chilling.

“You damned little punk, I finally caught you!”

A figure slowly emerged from the darkness into the dim yellow streetlight.

He was about five foot three, bare-chested, with dark skin. Bone rings pierced his ears, lips, nose, and cheeks, giving him a grotesque and sinister look.

It was the Thai curse master Tu Kacha!

Fu Yang was startled and blurted out, “What the hell? Are you doing performance art or something? You look stupid as hell...”

At the same time, he felt like this guy looked oddly familiar, as if he had seen him somewhere before.

“M-Master... can you let my sister go now?”

At the far end of the alley, the little beggar-thief behind him spoke timidly. Then he quickly ran to Tu Kacha’s side, looking pleadingly at him.

In that instant, everything clicked in Fu Yang’s mind.

This monster had definitely kidnapped the little beggar’s sister—the only family he had left—and forced the boy to steal Fu Yang’s wallet, deliberately luring him into this deserted dead-end alley.

The poor child still believed Tu Kacha would really release his sister and spare him too.

But for a deranged curse master, that was nothing but a fairy tale!

“Little brother, come here! Come over here to big brother. He’s a bad man!”

Fu Yang shouted anxiously, but it was already too late.

Tu Kacha’s skin-and-bones hand had already landed on the little beggar’s head, and he grinned hideously. “Little one, your sister has already gone to see the great evil god. I’ll send you there too, ga-ga-ga...”

He squeezed.

His five fingers actually pierced straight into the boy’s skull!

The pitiful little beggar didn’t even have time to scream before he was dead.

Then his body burst apart into wisps of blood mist, which streamed along Tu Kacha’s arm and into the curse master’s gaunt, dark body. In an instant, the corpse dried out and shrank down to the size of an infant, then collapsed to the ground.

“Ah, so good! Chinese people really are more delicious than Thai people...”

The damned evil curse master even let out a satisfied moan and clicked his tongue.

The sight before Fu Yang sent his fury soaring. He trembled all over with rage. Though he still did not know exactly what this bastard was, or what twisted reason had brought him here to target him, the thought of killing him had already taken root in his heart.

“Go screw your eighteenth-generation ancestors!”

He roared and charged with all his strength, while forming a talisman seal in midair with both hands. A phantom symbol shot out—exactly the Maoshan Ghost-Subduing Talisman!

Waa-waa-waa, waa-waa-waa...

A burst of baby crying suddenly rang out. A black shadow, moving at astonishing speed, plunged down from the air and crashed into the illusion of the Ghost-Subduing Talisman, shattering it.

“What the hell?!” Fu Yang froze.

In the dim streetlight, he saw a big-headed doll hovering not far ahead. Its face was vicious, its mouth full of sharp teeth.

A child-imp curse!

He and Wei Ke had once been ambushed by this thing in an alley on the way back to school, when Li Fang and a gangster boss used it against them. Wei Ke had easily taken control of it, and later Ah Huang had sent it on its way.

Tu Kacha’s evil cackle came from the other end of the alley. “A Maoshan Ghost-Subduing Talisman? You dare use such a basic spell? And without talisman paper, its power is cut in half. You damned little pest—first you ruined one of my child-imp curses with another Chinese little Taoist, and now you’ve ruined my good deed again, costing me a huge client’s money. I’ll never forgive you!”

Curse master, child-imp curse, that crow-like voice...

Fu Yang quickly connected the clues in his mind and figured it out.

“So that night, the source of Li Fang’s child-imp curse was this curse master named Tu Kacha! The one controlling Xiao Hua and trying to use a walking corpse curse to harm Tang Li was also this guy. Wait! I remember now—that night, the one who went with Liu Mengshu to the botanical garden to snatch the demon core from the Disaster Corpse Demon Tree was him too!”

Thinking of this, he laughed in contempt.

“Tu Kacha? What a stupid-ass name! Old bastard, a while ago when you and Liu Mengshu went to the botanical garden, did those two bullets in your back feel good? In hindsight, I should’ve aimed for your dick. I’d have blown your balls to pieces.”

After hearing Fu Yang’s words, the curse master froze, then immediately understood.

“It was you! The one who ambushed me and the evil Taoist with a gun that night and caused the mission to fail—was you too!”

Two terrifying streaks of blood-red light burst from his eyes. He was clearly shaking with rage, and now wanted even more to kill Fu Yang.

At this point, the two of them were bound by new and old hatred alike. One of them had to die.

“Come on then! You foreign old dick—let this young master meet you. I’ll show you the divine arts of Chinese Taoism!”

Fu Yang pulled a talisman paper from his pocket and invoked the Golden Needle Spell.

This was one of the more powerful offensive arts in the basic Maoshan repertoire.

A sharp whistling rose through the air as dozens of razor-sharp, phantom golden needles, as thick as a grown man’s middle finger, appeared out of nowhere and shot toward Tu Kacha.

The child-imp cursed shrieked and darted over to help its master, but it only managed to block some of the golden needles.

“Hit him! Hit him!”

Fu Yang screamed inwardly.

Unfortunately, Tu Kacha, as a somewhat famous evil curse master in Thailand, was not someone to be trifled with.

He swung the white staff in his hand, polished from human bones, and it howled through the air, forming a fan-shaped barrier so airtight it blocked the front of him completely.

Clang, clang, clatter.

All the spell-forged golden needles were deflected by the bone staff.

“Child-imp curse, kill this little brat for me! Tear him apart and eat him alive, rip out his heart and guts!”

At Tu Kacha’s command, the child-imp’s assault became even fiercer. Shrieking like a child, it swooped down again and again from all directions toward Fu Yang, its sharp teeth and claws all intent on tearing the flesh from his body.

Because the child-imp moved too fast and attacked like a madman, Fu Yang had no time to chant a spell or cast another art. In desperation, he grabbed an old-fashioned broom made from a wooden stick and bundled twigs from the corner of the wall and used it as a weapon to fend it off.

Fu Yang swung the broom, fighting while retreating.

The twigs had already been shredded to pieces by the child-imp’s sharp claws and teeth, leaving only the wooden handle.

“Watch my Imp-Bashing Staff Style! Just because you used to be a brat doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you.”

At last he seized an opening. He swung the thick wooden handle sideways and slammed it into the child-imp’s head.

Bang!

The thing was sent flying, crashing into the wall beside the alley and letting out even shriller, more horrifying cries.

Huff, huff...

Even with Fu Yang’s excellent physical condition, he was panting hard now, sweat beading on his forehead.

After all, this was his first official battle since becoming a successor of the Ghost Path and stepping onto the road of cultivation.

It was the first time he had faced evil alone and fought it with spells.

The child-imp curse mustered a wail and lunged again.