Zheng Motoku’s Daily Routine
Before the sun began to rise above the horizon, while the chill of the night still lingered thickly in the air, one could hear the sound of footsteps clicking against the flagstones of Liu Daijin’s estate. Zheng held up both his hands facing forward, and calmed his breath. The coldness of the air rendered the air escaping his lips into a white puff.
Hm. The same as ever.
Zheng nodded in satisfaction, confirming his internal clock was working at its proper capacity. He currently stood unclothed from the waist up. Anyone who knew Zheng at all would likely be shocked if they were to see his body right now.
He wasn’t slender; that much was for certain. But he didn’t have the form of a bodybuilder, either. His sturdy, tough bones were covered in a coat of steely muscles and sinew. It was like the very image of physical functionality and strength; the body of a warrior, built over a lengthy period of rigorous training.
But the most striking feature of his body was the tattoo of nine dragons, extending from his back and onto his chest. A tattoo that invoked the image of Shi Jin, one of the principal characters of the Water Margin, who was also said to bear a tattoo of nine dragons on his flesh.
He’d been branded with this tattoo after he left the People’s Liberation Army and worked as a professional assassin for the Hong Kong mafia. Over the years, he’d felt that the tattoo seemed to throb in time with his own heartbeat, as though it were alive in its own way.
Right, I suppose this will be enough for today.
It hadn’t been long since Zheng had started, but his torso was already glistening with sweat. He brushed away his hair, which was clinging to his forehead.
It’s almost dawn.
Turning his gaze to the eastern sky, Zheng let out a small sigh.
I suppose I’ll have to move working on my spear techniques to tomorrow.
Normally, he wouldn’t make do with just practicing a few forms. He preferred to take his time and focus on his training more thoroughly and diligently. Liu Daijin had passed onto him the Bajiquan technique of the lethal fist capable of killing with a single blow, which Li Shuwen himself was famous for. And his teachings weren’t limited to just the fist; they also covered all the techniques necessary for mastering the Liuhedaqiang spear.
It was truly a marvelous branch of martial arts, worthy of being called the hidden, killing fist. But even such a powerful technique only revealed its true power in the hands of a practitioner who trained every day. To that end, Zheng’s desire to keep his Bajiquan polished was understandable.
I’d have liked to have more free time...
Zheng shook his head in self-deprecation as that thought crossed his mind. It was an impossible wish. He was aide to Liu Daijin, one of the organization’s bosses, serving as his butler and bodyguard. He spent his days at the old man’s side, and his nights inspecting information gathered from throughout the western continent to arrange Liu’s daily schedule. Depending on the situation, Zheng might deploy his military forces into battle.
He was, for all intents and purposes, a jack of all trades.
To that end, Zheng rarely had any free time to speak of. Even his morning training sessions were managed by cutting into his sleeping time.
A day I could spend on myself is quite out of reach, isn’t it...?
Just maintaining the status quo was difficult enough. Finding time to elevate his martial arts skills to new levels was unthinkable. Heaving another deep sigh, Zheng reached for his shirt, which he’d left on the gazebo, and headed for the estate’s bathhouse.
But just as he was prepared to leave, his expression suddenly changed. On the other side of the vast garden, the sound of angry shouts and clashing metal could be heard from beyond the thick woods.
Someone after Liu Daijin’s life had likely launched some kind of early-morning attack. He could hear the sound of people moving from the estate as well.
It’s been some time since I’ve partaken in live combat. Interesting. I’ll take this as my chance to run wild a little...
A smile played over Zheng’s lips, as he delighted in the existence of this foolish trespasser...
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