Henan, China
Shaolin Monastery
In the cold, winter laden snow of China, a well known Monastery stood with its ever giving heat emanating off from the walls. Inside though, are what provided the heat that made any animal drawn to the Shaolin Monastery, although only located in a deeply orientated mountainous region. Despite the drawing towards it, the temple was also known for it's well earned glory in the arts of Shaolin Kung Fu. Inside, the warmth of hundreds of eager bodies that provided the walls to heat up. They all swelled with the idea of becoming the greatest fighters in the world, along with earning their right to protect and earn respect from others.
They all wanted to become the greatest known fighters in the world. Bruce Lee was what most had as their goal, and others were in the Monastery for different reasons. It was here, that Duvan roamed the halls self-confident of his skills. He had recently graduated, or more like passed the tests of the Shaolin Monks. Duvan had been given the right to keep his hair, as most knew he wasn't 'all human.' Yet, the Monks in the temple still considered him as one of their own, and he considered them great friends. So you could say that was the reason Duvan did their bidding, and why he was paying off his debt with this last mission.
Silently, Duvan walked, looking outside to see snowflakes slowly fall to the ground and meld with the inches of snow already there. He passed a few hopefuls, and nodded his respect upon they meeting him two feet away from where he was standing. They responded the same way; with an Asian smile that made their eyes slant so you couldn't see their pupils, and their smiles very much half circled. As they passed, Duvan glanced to see them go, and then looked back towards the hall they had come from. With immediate haste, he turned around in a one eighty, and then launched himself towards the adjacent wall from where he was previously standing.
At first, nothing happened. It was as if the wall was just any old wall. But, when Duvan hit it in a sequential order, the whole thing pushed back and opened to reveal a spiral-like staircase. Duvan walked into the new space, and collided down the steps with light footsteps. The wall behind him closed, revealing nothing of him actually ever being there. As he reached the bottom, Duvan took deep breathes and then as he rounded, glanced upon Master Qi Chon Viongo.
Duvan bowed low, then took off his Shaolin Monk shoes. He walked onto the sacred ground like he had over the past few months. Then, he sat, bowed again, and raised his body in a ninety degree angle, remaining silent as he did so. Duvan stayed in the position for some time, seemingly as Qi Chon ignored him; his back towards Duvan's face. After about three hours, Qi Chon began to speak. His voice was translated into Duvan's English.
“Duvan.. Your last mission for us is today. I understand that you do not require us to keep you any longer. Your time is important, but for this Monastery to continue, one man needs to be eliminated. The money we will receive or his death will provide us for tens of years, maybe even hundreds."
The Monk stopped, then smiled and laughed. “Maybe some… How do you say? Central Heating?"
Duvan smirked, lowered his gaze as he did so. Then he looked up." So... Who's this 'target?'
The Monk laughed. “This person is no normal target. He's like you. Long lived, too long lived. All we know is his name is Bushimi Natsumo. The only way to properly kill him, decapitation. You must also make sure to tear the rest of his limbs off too. If there is a chance he will survive, than we have lost all that we have worked for."
Duvan replied," Who's the employer?"
"Someone who deeply hates him."
"That is the only reason? I thought we have dignity?"
" Dignity no longer exists when you can provide for years because of one little job. I only want this place to last, and that is why I have not told the other Master's, and never will. You have been a good learner, but I want you to prevail and not be just a 'good learner.' You have a lot ahead of you, these old bones I have won't last long, and so you live as the legacy. Just do the job, go free, and remember who helped you along the way. After all... A good Master needs his burial to be rich, and you'll be rich with money. So I want gold on my coffin. Take mental notes."
Master Qi Chon Viongo laughed with Duvan chiming in. The old man had a lot of flare, but he was right. Soon he would die. Not everyone lives to ninety anyways. Duvan would pay his debt that way too; he would always do his best. Bushimi would not leave alive, anyone compromising the job would be killed too. No matter if they were directly or indirectly in the fight. Anyone in the area was a target.
New York City, Central Park
Dusk was setting, but as the Summer months were going, the sun was still up high in the sky. Despite the time being close to seven o'clock. Duvan had been wandering Central Park for a long time. He had remained all but a shadow, hiding in trees and near bushes. Not many people had been in the Park, but then again it was a Monday. Most people were returning from work to get some Monday sleep. After all, returning to work always made people tired and distraught anyways. For Duvan, work wasn't an option.
Duvan also knew that the rule applied to Bushimi too. No Superhuman works, especially when they have lived 'too long.' Still, Duvan still couldn't figure out why he was to kill the man. He hadn't had any registered crimes, nothing to lead Duvan to think that he was remotely a troublemaker. That troubled him a little though. With someone living a long time, Bushimi should have at least a car ticket.
Instead, Duvan had to ponder on whether Bushimi had made all of his crimes all erased by corrupted cops and other Government officials. Now, Duvan had gathered information that Bushimi would be located in Central Park. He had got an anonymous tip, and Duvan had taken it. He only hoped that what he received was right, and that he had chosen the right lead. Hopefully, he would run into Bushimi in broad daylight, and then they could have a 'fair fight.'
It was nearing; Duvan knew the battle would begin. Anyone remotely close would be punished by death, and ultimately Bushimi would be dead too. Everyone but Duvan would die. This, because Duvan was Quality, not Quantity, he was Quality. Better than others, when he was set on something he got finished with it. Like he was about to now.
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