Chapter 33 - Friends Out Of Jail And Three Weeks Of Wait
It was an hour past noon when the Ghostly Man finally returned.
STEP STEP STEP
Han Yu, now well accustomed to the man's eerie presence, immediately picked up on his approach. He barely even flinched anymore.
"Oh? Empty-handed this time?" Han Yu remarked, eyeing the man suspiciously.
"I just went for a walk," the Ghostly Man said nonchalantly as he sat down. "Cook." He ordered with the authority of a general commanding an army.
"The dried meat is already done," Han Yu replied, unimpressed. "Just eat that."
"It's not as flavorful." The man scoffed, as if Han Yu had just asked him to eat dirt.
"Fine... but there isn't anything else to cook," Han Yu said, folding his arms. "I could make some stew from the meat, but we don't have a pot."
"Go fetch one." The man waved him off as if Han Yu could just pluck a cooking pot from the nearest tree.
"That would take me over two hours!" Han Yu retorted, staring incredulously at the man's complete lack of regard for logic.
"Fine..." The man sighed as if Han Yu was the unreasonable one. Then, without a word, he picked up one of the many rocks lying around.
Before Han Yu could even ask what he was up to, the man gripped his knife and, in a swift motion, sliced the top clean off the rock.
"What the—" Han Yu's eyes nearly popped out of his skull. 'Even if that knife is sharp, there's no way it should cut through rock like that!'
But the show wasn't over yet. The Ghostly Man then carved into the stone, slicing out a perfect hexagonal chunk before yanking it out with sheer brute force.
CRACK!
The extracted chunk landed with a dull thud before the man casually tossed over the newly made stone pot like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"Now make it," he ordered.
"Y-yes, sir!" Han Yu yelped, fearing that if he hesitated, the next thing the knife would carve up was him.
He hurried off to fetch water from the river, all the while internally screaming. 'This guy is insane! What kind of monster casually carves pots out of rock?!'
Still shaken, Han Yu quickly chopped up the dried meat and tossed it into the water, adding some spices he had stashed away in a hollow tree trunk. A few minutes later, the air was filled with the rich aroma of simmering stew.
He handed the entire pot to the Ghostly Man, who had, in the meantime, whittled a spoon out of a stick.
'He's surprisingly handy...' Han Yu thought, ever so slightly impressed—though only a little.
As the man slurped away, Han Yu couldn't hold back his curiosity. "How... how did you do that? Cutting that rock like butter... was it Qi?"
"No." The man shook his head. "That was simply weapon intent."
"Weapon intent? Like sword intent?" Han Yu had heard of swordsmen who developed sword intent after years of practice, but that was something only true masters achieved. Even powerful Nascent Soul cultivators might not grasp it.
"Something similar," the Ghostly Man replied between bites.
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"Can I learn it?" Han Yu's eyes gleamed with interest. 'If this could cut through rock, then cutting through people should be as easy as slicing tofu!'
"At your level? Never." The man let out a barking laugh. "It takes years to learn, even for a single weapon."
Han Yu scowled. "You really are a cultivator, aren't you?"
The Ghostly Man raised a brow. "You just figured that out?"
"Well, your ridiculous stories and your... questionable fashion choices didn't exactly inspire confidence."
The Ghostly Man glanced at his ragged clothes and, for the first time, seemed to realize Han Yu had a point.
"Bring me new clothes tomorrow." He demanded.
"Tch~ fine," Han Yu grumbled. 'I have some spare clothes back at the hideout. They'll be a bit snug, but whatever.'
One of his past gambling victories had included someone else's clothes. The poor guy had lost so badly he had to bet the robes off his back—literally. The next day, he had chased Han Yu through the entire town, but Han Yu had managed to escape with his prize.
Once the Ghostly Man was finished eating, Han Yu handed him his usual wine, then got to training under his watchful (and increasingly intoxicated) gaze.
As always, the day ended with the man getting spectacularly drunk, spouting increasingly bizarre nonsense, and eventually passing out. Han Yu, used to the routine, returned to town, failed miserably at fishing (again), and later inquired about Ox Hand's whereabouts—only to get no answers.
The next day? Same routine.
The day after that? No changes.
The third day? The same monotonous cycle. Except—Han Yu's companions were finally released from jail!
...Not that it helped much.
Fat Kui had been grounded by his father (after getting thoroughly beaten, of course), making a reunion impossible.
Dan Hu had briefly met with Han Yu, but then quickly left, claiming he had urgent business. Han Yu suspected it had something to do with debts.
'Hopefully he actually paid them off this time and isn't just pretending again,' Han Yu mused.
By the fifth day, Han Yu finally received some news about Ox Hand.
"He went to the city?" Han Yu asked, eyes narrowing.
"Yeah," a tavern patron confirmed. "Had a whole bunch of beast corpses with him. Rented a cart and headed to the city, probably to sell 'em off."
Han Yu's stomach dropped. 'Shit... hopefully he doesn't sell the pill there too.'
At the very least, he figured Ox Hand should return in a day or two after selling his haul and enjoying some city luxuries.
But Han Yu was wrong.
Another week passed.
No Ox Hand.
Another week.
Still no Ox Hand.
By now, Han Yu was seriously beginning to consider whether the man had fallen into a ditch somewhere and rotted.
"Where the fuck did that guy go? Did he drop dead or something?!" Han Yu finally burst out in frustration.