MARD Chapter 4 Remastered Bandits (Patreon)

Deep within the dark forest, the faint glow of moonlight struggled to pierce through the tangled canopy. The still air carried the distant croaks of frogs and the rustle of unseen creatures. Amid that silence, two small figures darted between the trees, their ragged breaths echoing against the bark.

“Boss! We found one, we found one!” One of them shouted, his high-pitched voice breaking through the night as both sprinted toward a looming cave mouth hidden behind a curtain of vines.

Inside, the air was thick with the smell of damp stone and smoke. Shadows danced on the walls where a small fire crackled. Around it lounged a group of eight rough-looking men, each with weapons strewn at their sides, swords, axes, and crude spears, all marked with the wear of countless battles.

The tallest of them looked up from sharpening his axe, his single eye glinting in the firelight. “What did you two find?” His deep voice rumbled like thunder in the cave’s narrow chamber.

The two midgets, barely taller than dwarves and clad in tattered green cloaks, skidded to a halt before him, panting. One of them grinned widely, revealing sharp, yellowed teeth. “A small village, Boss. Just a little ways east from here. No guards, no cultivators, just farmers and women! Easy pickings for us!”

A low murmur rippled through the cave. The other men looked up from their tasks—counting coins, patching armor, or cleaning blades. For the first time in weeks, hope flickered in their weary eyes.

“That’s good news,” Growled the man with the axe, his voice gravelly. He dragged a whetstone slowly down the edge of the blade, sparks briefly flaring. “We’ve been running out of supplies since that last raid.”

“Yeah,” Muttered another, a scarred man sitting near the entrance, flipping through a blood-stained book. “If it weren’t for those Blue Sky Empire soldiers hiding in that last village, we wouldn’t have lost forty of our men. Fifty strong, reduced to ten.” He spat on the ground, his tone bitter.

The red-haired man sitting beside him snorted. “Those bastards weren’t normal soldiers either. Each one had the strength of a First Stage Fighter, and their captain… damn, he was at least a Fifth Stage Fighter. We were lucky to escape with our skins intact.”

A murmur of agreement followed. Some of the men rubbed their still-healing wounds, the memory of that disastrous battle still fresh.

Another voice, rough but reverent, spoke up from near the fire. “At least the Boss survived. As long as we’ve got him, we’re still the Black Bears.”

That name carried weight among the group. Even in defeat, it was a badge of pride.

The tallest man, their leader, smirked, the movement stretching the jagged scar that crossed his bare chest. His muscles rippled beneath skin covered in old burn marks and tattoos. “Damn right,” He said, standing to his full height. The flickering firelight painted his bald head in gold and red. “I’m still standing, aren’t I? A Fourth Stage Fighter doesn’t die that easily.”

The others grinned, emboldened by his confidence.

“Don’t forget,” One of the younger bandits added eagerly, “Big Brother Yong’s a Third Stage Fighter, and Brother Hai’s Second Stage. Between the three of you, that little village won’t stand a chance.”

Laughter broke out—low, cruel, and hungry.

“Alright, enough talk!” The Boss’s voice boomed through the cave, instantly silencing the group. He hefted his axe onto his shoulder, its metal head gleaming wickedly in the firelight. “Pack your things, sharpen your blades. If what these two rats say is true, then we feast by dawn.”

The green-cloaked scouts exchanged triumphant grins. “Right, Boss! We’ll lead the way!”

The scarred man with the book snapped it shut, tucking it into his belt. “Finally, something worth killing for again.”

Another man laughed hoarsely, slinging a bow over his shoulder. “It's been too long since I’ve seen a woman up close that didn’t have fangs or fleas.”

The red-haired one kicked dirt into the fire, causing the flames to flare briefly. “Then what are we waiting for?”

The Boss strode toward the cave mouth, his heavy boots thudding against the ground. “We move now,” he said, his tone sharp and commanding. “Before the sun rises and they even have time to blink.”

The night wind rushed in as he stepped outside, the faint moonlight glinting off the blade of his axe. Behind him, nine silhouettes followed, shadows of men hardened by loss and hunger, yet still burning with savage purpose.

—---------------------------

Little Village, Afternoon

The sun hung lazily over the hills, its golden light spilling across the fields like melted honey. The rhythmic sound of wooden plows cutting through the soil mixed with the chatter of sparrows and the occasional grunt of tired men. Sweat, dirt, and laughter carried on the warm breeze, the simple music of rural life.

For Issei Hyoudou, however, this “simple life” still felt like a bad joke from the universe. It had been a week since he’d woken up in this strange world, no phones, no internet, no TV, no gaming, and worst of all… no porn.

He sighed, leaning on his wooden hoe, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. His shirt clung to his back, the once-bright red now faded from endless sunlight and dirt stains.

‘Man… this world really doesn’t have mercy,’ He thought bitterly. ‘No electricity, no running water, and I have to share a small house with three beautiful girls who think I’m either suspicious or a pervert. Which, okay, fine, maybe I deserved that one time. But seriously, I only tripped! It’s not my fault Wu Ying wears robes that could start a wardrobe malfunction just by sneezing too hard.’

He groaned and gave the field another swing, slicing through the soil with almost unnatural ease. His body had changed drastically since coming here, stronger, lighter, faster. Work that should’ve been exhausting for a normal guy felt almost relaxing.

“I guess that’s one upside to being a ‘First Stage Fighter,’” he muttered, remembering Wu Ying’s earlier lectures. “Still, could’ve come with my collection of porn magazines.”

“Hyoudou Issei!” A gruff voice snapped him from his daydream. He turned to see one of the older farmers, a broad-shouldered man with a straw hat and a stern face, glaring at him from the next plot.

“You done with your share yet, boy? The sun won’t wait for your daydreams!”

Issei straightened immediately. “Ah—! S-sorry, sir! I’ll get it done!”

The man grunted, satisfied, before returning to his work.

As Issei bent back to plowing, he muttered under his breath, “Man, even the uncles here are scarier than my teachers…”

He pushed the hoe forward again, the blade cutting deep into the earth. Surprisingly, the rhythm of it all had grown on him. The warm dirt beneath his feet, the scent of freshly turned soil, the sun on his skin, it was hard work, yeah, but it was nice.

‘Guess farming’s in my blood,’ He thought, smiling faintly. ‘Grandpa used to drag me to help in the yard back home… he’d probably laugh if he saw me doing this again.’

He looked up toward the distant slope where the Wu family’s home stood nestled against the treeline. Even from here, he could almost picture Wu Lan hanging laundry in the breeze, Wu Ying practicing her punches on a wooden post, and little Wu Xiao running around chasing chickens. The thought brought a small grin to his face. 

“Big bro! Are you done yet?” The cheerful voice broke through the hum of work like a bell. Issei turned, spotting Wu Xiao at the edge of the field. The twelve-year-old waved enthusiastically, her twin pigtails bouncing in the wind. She was dressed in a faded green robe several sizes too big for her, the sleeves flapping like flags as she ran.

He straightened, resting the hoe against his shoulder and smiling. “Hey, Xiao-chan! You came all the way out here?”

She beamed, skidding to a stop beside him, her sandals kicking up dust. “Yup! Sis Lan said I could bring you some water!”

She held up a small clay jar with both hands, its sides dripping with condensation.

Issei’s grin widened. “You’re a lifesaver.”

He crouched down as she offered it, taking a long, refreshing gulp. The water was cool, drawn from the nearby stream, and tasted cleaner than anything from a faucet. “Ahhh— that hits the spot!” He sighed, wiping his mouth. “You’re gonna make some lucky guy really happy one day, Xiao-chan.”

Her cheeks puffed, her expression turning mock serious. “Big bro, don’t say weird things like that!”

“Huh? Why not?”

“Because!” she said firmly, crossing her arms. “Wu Ying says boys who talk like that are dangerous!”

Issei froze mid-laugh, a nervous bead of sweat running down his temple. “Ah… yeah, that sounds like something she’d say.”

Wu Xiao giggled at his guilty look. “You’re not dangerous, though. You’re funny. And kinda weird.”

“Gee, thanks,” He said with mock offense. “Weird’s a compliment around here, right?”

The girl tilted her head thoughtfully. “Hmm… maybe?”

He chuckled, standing back up and glancing at the rows of freshly tilled soil. The work was done. The faint scent of grass and damp earth filled the air as a warm wind swept across the field.

“Looks like I’m done for the day,” He said, stretching his back. “Man, my arms are killing me.”

“Then let’s go home!” Wu Xiao said cheerfully, tugging at his sleeve. “Big Sis Ying’s probably still training, and Sis Lan is preparing food!”

“Food, huh?” Issei’s stomach growled in agreement. “That sounds amazing. Alright, lead the way, Xiao-chan.”

The girl laughed and started down the narrow dirt path that wound through the fields, skipping with light steps. Issei followed close behind, glancing back at the other farmers still at work. A few of them gave him approving nods, a rare sign of respect in a village that still eyed him like an outsider.

The two walked side by side while Wu Xiao hummed a small tune, one she often sang when they fetched water together. Her voice was soft, pure, carrying a childlike innocence that made the quiet countryside feel alive.

As they crested the last hill, the outline of the Wu household came into view, smoke lazily curling from the chimney. The faint crackle of firewood and the scent of herbs reached them on the breeze.

Issei looked at Wu Xiao, who was smiling up at him with her usual bright eyes.

“Race you there?” he said with a grin.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “You’re on!” She dashed ahead before he could finish stretching.

“H-Hey! No fair!” Issei shouted, laughing as he chased after her. Their laughter echoed down the dirt path, mingling with the golden light of the afternoon.

—--------------------------------

Wu Xiao’s POV

It’s been such a happy week, maybe the happiest I’ve had in a long time. And all because of the strange boy we found sleeping in the woods.

When I think back to that day, I still can’t believe how weird he looked. Who just lies down in the forest, half-dressed, like they’re napping in their backyard? At first, I thought he was a lost drunk or maybe one of those weird travelers Sister Ying always warns me about. You know, the kind that tries to lure kids away with candy or trinkets.

He kept mumbling about some place called “Japan.” I’d never heard of it. He said it was a country but I don’t think he realized that the word meant nothing to us. He really was weird… and kind of stupid too. Who forgets where they live?

Sister Ying didn’t like him from the start. She kept glaring at him like she wanted to punch him right back to wherever he came from. She told me to keep my distance, that strange men can’t be trusted. I was going to listen… really, I was.

But then I saw his face when he realized he didn’t know where home was. He looked so lost, not like the bad men Sister Ying warned me about, but like a puppy that got left behind in the rain.

I don’t know why, but I wanted to cheer him up.

And then… Everything happened so fast.

Those wolves came out of nowhere, snarling and snapping their teeth. I thought we were going to die. Sister Ying tried to fight them, but there were too many. One of them almost got her — I still remember that horrible sound when it lunged for her throat.

But Big Bro, back then, he wasn’t my Big Bro yet, he didn’t run. He looked terrified, shaking all over, but he still jumped in front of her. He punched one of the wolves so hard its neck snapped.

I didn’t even understand how he moved that fast. His face was pale, his body trembling, but he didn’t stop until the last wolf was down.

That’s when I decided I could trust him. Anyone that brave, even if they’re dumb and clumsy, deserves a chance. So I started calling him “Big Bro.” It just… felt right.

After that, everything changed.

When we finally got home, Sister Lan prepared the wolves for dinner. The smell wasn’t great, but it was better than starving. I called it “doggy stew.” The meat was tough and chewy, but I didn’t care, I was still angry those wolves had hurt my sister.

While we ate, my sisters talked to him about cultivation and fighters and all that stuff that usually makes my head hurt. Big Sis said he was a “First Stage Fighter,” but he didn’t even know what that meant. I thought he was pretending at first, but when I looked at his face, so confused and honest, I could tell he really had no clue.

He’s strange like that. Sometimes he says things I don’t understand, but he always says them like he believes every word.

The next morning was scary, though.

When I woke up, Sister Ying was lying on the floor, breathing hard like she’d run all the way to the mountain and back. But what really scared me was Big Bro. He was lying outside, covered in dirt and bruises, his clothes torn.

I thought he was dead. I really did.

Big Sis and I rushed to heal him, we used everything we had, even the little bottle of healing salve Father left behind. Sister Ying just turned away when we asked what happened, her face all red. I thought she was angry, but looking back now… maybe she was embarrassed.

Luckily, Big Bro’s wounds healed fast. Faster than they should have. By afternoon, he was already smiling again like nothing happened, even though he could barely stand when we found him.

Now, after a week, things feel so different.

I have fewer chores since Big Bro always helps when I ask, carrying water, chopping firewood, even patching the roof when it leaks. He complains a lot, but he always does it in the end. When I get bored, he listens to my stories. Even the silly ones.

Sometimes he believes me too easily, which makes teasing him really fun. Like yesterday, when I told him frogs bring good luck if you kiss them, he actually tried to catch one! He’s so gullible.

He reminds me of Father. Not the same, of course, Father was calm and serious, but he always smiled when I did something dumb. Big Bro smiles the same way. The kind that makes you feel safe.

Right now, I’m walking down the long dirt path that leads to the farmlands. The sun’s still high, the air thick with the smell of soil and grass. My sandals keep kicking up little puffs of dust as I walk.

It’s such a pain living so far from the village. Father built our house on the edge of the forest because he liked the quiet, but it means we have to walk forever just to get anywhere. Big Sis says it’s better this way, fewer nosy villagers. She doesn’t trust most of the men here. After Father died, they started acting strange around us. I didn’t really understand it back then, but I saw how uncomfortable it made her and Sister Lan.

When Big Bro showed up, a lot of the men didn’t like him either. I heard them whisper things — calling him “outsider,” “freeloader,” or worse. But when they saw him lift a full sack of grain with one arm, they stopped talking.

I think they’re scared of him now. It makes me a little proud.

Finally, I reached the fields. The smell of freshly tilled soil hits me first, then I spot the men bent over their work, swinging hoes and dragging plows. And there he is, the strange boy from the woods, the one who’s now part of our family.

Big Bro was smaller but still stands taller than most of them, his shirt sticking to his back with sweat. The sunlight glints off his brown hair, and even from here I can see the faint smile on his face. He looks happy.

I can’t help smiling too.

“Big Bro!” I call, waving as I run across the edge of the field. “Are you done? Let’s go home!”

He looks up, blinking at me in surprise, then grins that same goofy grin that somehow makes everything feel better.

And for a moment, under the golden light of the afternoon sun, I think that maybe things will stay peaceful like this forever.

—---------------------------------

Wu Household, Little Village Outskirts

Issei’s POV

The dirt road back to the Wu household was warm beneath our feet, the afternoon sun dipping lazily. The air smelled faintly of herbs and wood smoke, the kind of scent that clung to everything in this village. Wu Xiao skipped ahead, humming cheerfully, her twin pigtails bouncing with every step. I followed behind at a slower pace, dragging my feet like a man returning from war.

We finally reached the small house perched on the edge of the woods, a humble structure of timber and thatch, patched in places with fur and rope. It was small, quiet, and rustic… a far cry from the noisy streets of Kuoh.

‘No TV. No phone. No internet. No snacks.’ I sighed inwardly. ‘Civilization, I hardly knew you.’ But even as I thought that, I couldn’t deny that something about this place felt… peaceful. It wasn’t much, but it was home now.

“Big Bro, hurry up!” Wu Xiao called, already racing ahead to the front yard where her sister was, as usual, practicing martial arts.

There stood Wu Ying, her body glistening with sweat under the sunlight as she threw punch after punch at a thick wooden post. Her movements were sharp and precise, each strike echoing like thunder in the quiet clearing. The wood was already dented and cracked from her relentless training.

I couldn’t help but admire her, just a little. Her focus, her discipline, her toned arms… and okay, maybe also the way her robe clung to her when she moved.

‘Truly, a deadly beauty,’ I thought before immediately shaking my head. ‘No, no, stop it, Issei! You already got punched once for that kind of thinking!’

I still remembered the first day or rather, the incident. I hadn’t even done anything that bad, not his fault that she wasn't fully covered. Totally an accident! Well, mostly.

She didn’t buy it. Since then, Wu Ying had labeled me “Pervert” and treated me like her personal punching bag whenever she got the chance.

Still, life here wasn’t all bad.

If Wu Ying was the scary one, Wu Lan was the kind one, calm, warm, and always smiling no matter how many times I messed up. And Wu Xiao… well, she was the little sister I never had. Cute, bright, and way too good at convincing me to do extra chores with her puppy eyes.

And speaking of chores—

“Ah, Issei,” Wu Lan’s soft voice called from the doorway, her long green hair tied up loosely as she stepped outside. “Can you please get some firewood? We’re running low again.”

I froze mid-step. “Firewood? Again? Can’t I do that later? My arms are killing me.”

Wu Lan’s smile didn’t waver, that gentle, motherly expression that made saying no feel like kicking a puppy. “Of course you can,” she said sweetly. “But if I don’t have firewood, I can’t cook dinner.”

She had me cornered.

Before I could even think of a clever excuse, another voice chimed in.

“Pervert!” Wu Ying barked without even glancing over, her fists still hammering the wooden post. “Quit whining and get the firewood! I’m starving!”

I sighed dramatically, shoulders slumping in defeat. “Yes, yes, your royal highness of martial arts, I hear you…”

“Good! And make it quick before I decide to train on you instead of the post.”

‘And there it is,’ I thought. ‘The daily death threat. Like clockwork.’

Wu Xiao giggled from the steps, swinging her legs. “Don’t worry, Big Bro! I’ll save you some food if you come back fast!”

I gave her a tired smile. “Thanks, Xiao-chan. I’ll need the motivation.”

Grabbing the rusty bronze axe leaning against the wall, I examined the blade with a sigh. The once-proud weapon was now pitted and dull, the handle worn smooth from years of use. The sisters said it used to belong to their father, but without maintenance or tools, it had started to rust.

“Man… poor thing,” I muttered. “Guess we’re both past our prime.”

“Talking to tools now?” Wu Ying said without turning around. “Fits you, pervert.”

I grumbled under my breath, “Someone remind me why I’m still living here…”

“Because you’d starve without us,” she shot back immediately.

“Touché.”

Wu Lan chuckled softly at our banter, her serene voice breaking through the tension. “Don’t mind her, Issei. You’re helping a lot around here. I really appreciate it.”

Her words caught me off guard for a second. I turned to see her smiling, genuinely, not teasing or scolding, just… kind. I scratched the back of my neck awkwardly. “Heh, it’s nothing. Just trying to pull my weight, that’s all.”

“Still, thank you.” That smile of hers could melt the snow on the northern peaks.

Feeling my face heat up, I quickly turned away and waved my hand. “A-anyway, I’ll get that firewood now!”

I trudged off toward the forest, axe slung over my shoulder. Behind me, I could still hear Wu Xiao calling out something about not getting lost and Wu Ying yelling that if I took too long, I’d be eating cold stew.

As I stepped beneath the shadow of the trees, the familiar sound of Wu Ying’s punches echoed faintly behind me.

“Alright.” I muttered, gripping the axe tighter. “Let’s get this over with before the scary sister gets hungry.”

He had no idea that by the time he returned, the world around that quiet little house would never be the same again.

—-----------------------------

Wu Ying’s POV

As I see the pervert with that downcast expression leaving, I can’t help the smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. There’s something deeply satisfying about watching him get pushed around by me. Serves him right for being such an idiot. That pervert.

“Don’t be mean to Big Bro!” Wu Xiao shouts, her tiny face scrunching into a pout that would almost be cute if she weren’t defending him. She crosses her arms and stamps her foot like a stubborn child—well, she is a child, but still.

I scoff and look away. “Tch.” Why she keeps defending him is beyond me. Ever since that day we found him lying half-naked in the forest, she’s been attached to him like a puppy. And for what? Because he smiles and acts nice? Idiot.

“That is true. Wu Ying, try to be nicer to Hyoudou Issei. He’s a guest at our house.” Wu Lan’s calm yet disappointed tone cuts deeper than any blade. I feel her eyes on me, steady, patient, but firm. She doesn’t raise her voice, she never does, and that somehow makes it worse. I clench my fists and look away.

I don’t even know why she’s mad. I helped her out. I’m the one keeping things under control, keeping that strange boy from doing something stupid. But no matter how I try to justify it, Wu Lan’s words stick to me like burrs.

And even though I could ignore Xiao’s childish whining… I can’t ignore my older sister. Still, I won’t say sorry. Not yet.

If only she knew what happened that first day. Maybe she wouldn’t be so quick to take his side. Maybe then she’d understand why I don’t trust him. Why every time I see that idiotic grin, my blood just… boils.

But I didn’t tell her. Not when she convinced me to let him stay.

—-------------------------------

Flashback 

The house was quiet that night. The forest outside whispered through the cracks in the old wooden walls, and the single candle flickered between us. Wu Xiao was already asleep, curled up under her thin blanket, breathing softly. The air smelled faintly of herbs and smoke.

I sat cross-legged beside the curtain of animal furs that now separated us from our new guest. My arms were folded, my eyes fixed on the faint shadow moving behind the divider. Every soft rustle made me tense.

“...Sister, why did you let that guy live with us?” I asked in a low voice. I could still picture his face from earlier—confused, lost, but that stupid grin when he called us Bishoujos. I could practically hear his perverted thoughts.

Wu Lan didn’t answer right away. She kept her voice calm, like always. “You know why. He has nowhere to go.”

I frowned. “But how can you trust him?”

Her hands paused in mid-stitch as she mended one of Xiao’s old robes. “Listen, Wu Ying,” she said softly, but there was steel behind her tone. “Aren’t you tired of living with this constant fear of men?”

Her words hit me like a punch. I looked away.

She continued, “When Father died, the men in the village thought we’d be helpless without a man to protect us. You remember what they tried, don’t you? If not for your strength, they would’ve taken everything from us.” Her voice trembled slightly, though she tried to hide it. “But even after that, they stopped talking to us. They call us cursed sisters. They whisper behind our backs.”

I stayed silent, my fists tightening against my knees. She wasn’t wrong.

Wu Lan sighed, setting the needle down. “This life… it’s becoming harder, Ying. Without a man in this house, the villagers treat us like we don’t belong. I realized something tonight—we can’t survive like this forever. We need help. Someone who’ll make them back off. Someone who can carry the burdens we can’t. Plus we've lived long enough in fear of everything beyond our walls. If we close our hearts to everyone who looks strange or lost… what will be left of us?”

Wu Ying frowned, lowering her gaze. “You make it sound so simple. But this isn’t some fairy tale, Sister. The world doesn’t work like that.”

Wu Lan smiled gently, her voice almost teasing. “You’d be surprised how many strange things this world hides. Perhaps he’s here for a reason.”

Wu Ying turned away, staring into the shadows. “You sound like Mother,” She murmured bitterly. “Always believing there’s some reason for the bad things that happen.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Wu Lan didn’t respond right away, only watching her sister’s reflection in the faint glow of the embers. “I miss her and father too,” She said softly.

Wu Ying’s shoulders stiffened. “…I wasn’t talking about them.”

“But you were thinking about it,” Wu Lan replied gently.

Wu Ying closed her eyes, exhaling through her nose. “Tch… you always see through me.”

“That’s my job as your older sister.”

For a while, only the soft crackle of the fire filled the room. Then Wu Ying sighed and leaned back, tilting her head toward the ceiling. “You really trust that boy?”

Wu Lan hesitated, then nodded. “I do.”

“Even after everything we’ve seen and been through?”

“Yes,” Wu Lan said simply.

Wu Ying turned her head, brow furrowed. “Why?”

Wu Lan’s eyes softened. “Because when he looked at us, there wasn’t a single ounce of malice. Just confusion… and fear.” She smiled faintly, the candlelight flickering against her gentle face. “Not to mention, he didn’t abandon us when you were in trouble today. I saw it, Ying—he stood between you and that wolf without hesitation. Maybe he’s foolish… but that kind of foolishness can be noble too.”

I bit my lip, unable to argue. He did protect me, in his own clumsy way. Still…

“I just don’t like him,” I muttered.

Wu Lan’s smile didn’t fade. “You don’t have to like him right away. Just… try to see what I see. If we help him, maybe he’ll help us. So please, get along.”

Wu Ying scoffed lightly. “You and your bleeding heart…”

“And you with your sharp tongue.” Wu Lan chuckled softly.

—--------------------------------------------------------------

Present

It was only for Wu Lan’s sake that I didn’t say anything. That’s the only reason he’s still here.

If I’d known he’d be a slacker, I’d have kicked him out already. But… I can’t deny that he helps around. The house is cleaner, the chores finish faster, and we haven’t had to go into the woods as much since he started working the fields. His stamina’s insane.

And the villagers… they’ve started leaving us alone. A man’s presence, even one as hopeless as him, changes everything. No more pitying looks. No more whispers. For that, I guess I can’t complain.

And yet…

Every time I catch him staring at my chest, I feel that same flare of irritation burning up my spine. He always looks away too late, as if he thinks we don’t notice. Pervert. Every single one of them are.

Still, if I’m being honest with myself, something I rarely am, it’s not all bad having him here.

His clumsy jokes sometimes make Wu Xiao laugh so hard she can’t breathe. He carries heavy baskets without being asked. He doesn’t flinch when I scold him. Sometimes, when he thinks no one’s looking, he just… smiles to himself while he works.

It’s stupid. But that stupid smile makes the air in this house feel a little less heavy.

I shake my head, pushing the thought away. “Tch. Whatever.”

Even if he isn’t all bad… that doesn’t mean I’ll make it easy for him. After all, someone has to keep that pervert in line.

—----------------------------------------

The sun had already started to dip behind the trees, painting the sky in streaks of orange and crimson. Sweat trickled down my neck as I exhaled sharply, my fists driving into the wooden post again and again. Each strike echoed through the clearing — solid, rhythmic, controlled.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

My knuckles stung, but the pain was familiar, comforting, even. Training was the only thing that cleared my mind, the only thing that made this world feel predictable. Every punch, every motion was something I could control.

But even I knew when to stop.

“It’s been hours,” I muttered, lowering my fists and stretching my arms. “Some food would do me good right about now.”

My stomach growled in agreement, and I frowned toward the path leading into the forest. “Tch. What’s taking that pervert so long? Did he get lost again?”

The thought made me smirk, but it faded as quickly as it came. I picked up my water gourd and took a sip, the cool liquid soothing my dry throat. Then, just as I was about to head inside, a flicker of movement in the distance caught my attention.

Smoke.

Not the thin, white wisps from cooking fires, but thick, black smoke rising from the direction of the village.

My brows furrowed. “That’s… a lot.”

At first, I thought maybe someone was burning brush or a large pile of wood — but the longer I watched, the darker and heavier the smoke grew, rolling into the sky like a storm cloud. My chest tightened. Something was wrong.

“Wu Ying, what’s going on?”

I turned sharply. Wu Lan stood behind me, her soft features drawn tight with concern. Her green hair, usually so neat, fluttered in the wind as she glanced toward the horizon.

“Don’t know,” I said, trying to sound calm even as a cold shiver ran down my spine. “Maybe… a fire.”

But even as I said it, the words felt hollow. The pit in my stomach deepened.

Then — the scream. “HELP! BANDITS!”

The cry tore through the air, raw and desperate. My head snapped toward the sound just in time to see a man, one of the villagers, stumbling up the dirt path toward our house, his clothes torn, blood splattered across his shoulder.

And behind him, two figures in tattered green cloaks, their faces half-covered with cloth, daggers glinting in their hands.

The villager’s terrified eyes met mine. “P-please! Run! They’re—”

A whistle cut through the air. Thunk.

The dagger buried itself in his back before he could finish. He fell face-first into the dirt, lifeless before he even hit the ground. My breath caught. For a heartbeat, the world went silent.

Then the sound of footsteps, slow and deliberate, broke the stillness. The two men stepped into view, laughing to each other as they kicked the corpse aside.

I froze. Bandits. Here. In this small, worthless village that barely had enough to feed itself.

Why? We had nothing. No treasure, no crops worth stealing, no soldiers to challenge them. So why—

“Wu Ying!” Wu Lan’s voice trembled behind me. “What—what do we do?”

My instincts snapped into focus. “Take Wu Xiao and go into the woods. Now. Find Issei.”

Her eyes widened. “What about you?”

“I’ll fight them off.”

“You can’t take them alone!”

“I’m not planning to.” My tone was sharp, but my heart was pounding. “But if I run with you, they’ll follow. If I fight, I can buy you time.”

Wu Lan hesitated, torn between reason and fear. “Ying—”

I turned to her, meeting her gaze. “Listen, Sister. We don’t know how many there are or what weapons they have. But if we all run together, we’ll simply be chased like dogs. If I stay, I can stop them before they regroup and you'll have a chance to escape.”

Her lips trembled. For a moment, I saw the same look she had the day Father died, that quiet, helpless fear she tried so hard to hide.

“Alright,” she said finally, her voice soft but steady. “But I’m bringing Issei back with me. Don’t do anything reckless until we return.”

I forced a small smile. “When am I not reckless?”

“Ying!”

“Fine! I promise,” I said quickly, waving her off even though we both knew it was a lie. “Now go!”

Wu Lan hesitated a heartbeat longer, then turned and dashed into the house. I heard her calling for Wu Xiao, her tone urgent but calm enough not to scare the girl.

That left me standing alone in the yard.

I turned my gaze back to the two bandits, now slowly making their way up the slope toward our home. Their laughter was low and cruel, their daggers stained with fresh blood.

Anger bubbled in my chest. “You picked the wrong village,” I muttered, tightening the wrappings around my fists.

—------------------------------

The two cloaked figures emerged from the smoke-choked path, their daggers catching the light of the dying sun. Their laughter was low and vile, the kind that made Wu Ying’s stomach twist in disgust. They were bandits, she could tell by the ragged armor, the greedy gleam in their eyes, and the way they looked at her like predators sizing up prey.

For a heartbeat, they froze, startled by the sight before them — two young women, one standing tall with a fighter’s stance, the other retreating toward the house.

Then the shock turned into hunger.

“Well, look what we’ve got here,” one sneered, his voice thick with excitement. “Didn’t think we’d find anything this pretty in a backwater like this.”

The other chuckled, licking his cracked lips. “Guess we don’t have to share with the others, eh?”

Wu Ying’s body tensed, her pulse steadying. She saw the way their eyes raked over her and a cold anger began to simmer in her chest.

“You picked the wrong house,” She muttered under her breath.

Before the two men could take another step, she lunged.

The sudden movement caught them completely off guard, villagers usually screamed and ran, not charged forward like wild tigers. The younger one barely had time to react before panic flared in his eyes.

“Shit! She’s coming at us!”

“Don’t just stand there! Throw it!”

One of the bandits jerked his arm and hurled a dagger with a practiced flick of his wrist. The blade cut through the air, fast and deadly but Wu Ying saw it coming. With a sharp step and a twist of her torso, she let it whistle past her ear, close enough for her hair to flutter from its wake.

Before the thrower could register that he missed, her fist was already in motion.

CRACK!

The punch landed square on his jaw with bone-shattering force. The man spun midair and hit the ground like a sack of grain, unconscious before his head even touched dirt.

The other bandit staggered back, stunned by the sheer violence of what he’d just seen. “W-what the hell—?!”

He raised his dagger instinctively, trying to put distance between them, but Wu Ying didn’t let up. She darted forward again, her bare feet kicking up dust.

In a panic, he thrust his weapon toward her chest. To anyone else, it might’ve been a lethal move but to Wu Ying, it was slow and predictable.

She caught his wrist mid-thrust, pivoted on her heel, and flipped him over her shoulder with a clean judo throw that sent him crashing hard into the ground.

“Guh—!” He groaned, the air knocked clean out of his lungs.

Wu Ying didn’t give him the chance to recover. She dropped to one knee and drove her fist into his face with enough force to rattle his teeth. The thud of impact echoed through the yard, followed by stillness.

Both men were down.

Wu Ying stood, breathing hard but steady, her gaze darting between their unmoving bodies. The wind rustled the grass around her, carrying the faint scent of blood and smoke. She kept her stance low, waiting.

No movement.

“They’re not getting up,” she murmured.

Her fists unclenched slightly, but the tension in her shoulders didn’t fade. Should she chase the others? No, the smart move was to regroup with her sisters and Issei. She turned her head toward the forest, mind racing through her next steps—

A voice cut through the silence.

“I was wondering what took so long for the midget scouts to come back.”

Wu Ying froze.

She turned toward the path leading down from the burning village and saw him, a tall, broad-shouldered man in ragged armor, a sword strapped across his back. His tone was casual, but his eyes were sharp and cruel.

A First Stage Fighter.

His presence alone made the air feel heavier. The aura of someone who’d killed before and didn’t lose sleep over it.

Wu Ying didn’t hesitate. She charged, launching herself forward with a burst of speed, aiming straight for his face.

Her fist met his, a clean, solid block. The collision sent a shock through her arm, and for the first time, she realized what she was dealing with. His counterpunch came instantly, fluid and precise — a strike that would’ve taken her head off if she hadn’t ducked at the last second.

Steel flashed.

He drew his sword in one smooth motion, slashing horizontally. She barely leapt back in time, the blade slicing through the front of her robe and grazing her shoulder. Pain flared, hot and sharp, but she ignored it.

“Fast reflexes,” He said with a smirk. “Not bad for a village girl.”

Wu Ying exhaled, steadying herself. This one was no simple thug, he had training. Maybe not refined but well practiced. She circled him warily, keeping her breathing even.

‘A sword against my bare hands. This won’t end well if I don’t find something.’

Her eyes darted around — and there, near the fallen bandits, two daggers glinted in the dirt. One had been thrown earlier, the other still lodged in the villager’s corpse.

It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

“Just stand still and this’ll be easier for both of us,” The man said, stepping forward, sword raised.

Wu Ying’s lips curled into a thin smirk. “Come make me.”

Before he could react, she kicked dirt into his eyes and bolted sideways, sliding across the ground to snatch up the nearest dagger. The blade was small and rough, but its weight was familiar enough in her hand.

“Ahh, feisty,” he laughed, wiping his eyes. “I like that.”

“Too bad you won’t live long enough to enjoy it.”

She rushed him, dagger flashing, and their blades met in a quick, violent exchange, iron ringing against bronze. Sparks flew as they clashed again and again, her movements fast and precise, his heavy and deliberate.

He was stronger, but she was faster.

Until another voice broke in. “What are you wasting time for?”

Both fighters stopped as a second man approached, his crimson hair catching the light of the burning village behind him. Unlike the others, he carried no weapon — only confidence.

The first man stepped aside immediately, lowering his blade. “Brother Hai! I didn’t know you were here.”

The red-haired man, tall, broad, with eyes that burned like embers, smirked. “I heard there was some trouble. Didn’t expect to find a pretty little cultivator out here.”

“She’s a First Stage Fighter,” The swordsman explained quickly, gesturing to Wu Ying.

“Oh really?” Brother Hai’s grin widened. “Now that’s interesting. The boss will be very pleased to meet her.”

Wu Ying straightened, dagger in hand, glare sharp enough to cut glass. “If you think I’ll let you take me, you’re mistaken.”

“Sorry,” Hai said, cracking his neck. “I wasn’t asking.”

And before she could blink, he moved.

The world blurred, one second he was standing still, the next he was right in front of her.

“—!”

A sharp, crushing pain exploded in her stomach as his palm struck her abdomen, the force driving the air from her lungs. The dagger slipped from her fingers as her knees buckled, the ground rising to meet her.

Brother Hai looked down at her with mild amusement. “You’ve got spirit, girl. But spirit doesn’t mean much when you’re weak.”

Wu Ying coughed, clutching her abdomen, struggling to breathe. Her vision swam, the edges darkening as the red-haired man knelt beside her.

“The boss is going to be very interested in you.”

Her hand twitched toward the fallen dagger, but before she could reach it, darkness claimed her.

The last thing she heard was Brother Hai’s voice — low, mocking, and far too calm.

“Don’t worry. You’ll get to meet him soon.”

—--------------------------------------

Little Village Center

The small village was now quiet. The air was thick with smoke and despair. Dust hung in the sunlight, drifting through the gaps between the broken thatched roofs.

Men were on their knees, beaten and bloodied, their faces pale with defeat and helpless rage. Women clutched their crying children, shielding them with trembling arms as if their embrace could hold off the cruelty of the world.

Around them, eight bandits stood with weapons drawn, axes, swords, and rusty spears, their eyes filled with the hunger of men who’d long abandoned their humanity. There had once been ten of them, but two lay dead near the village well, their bodies covered with old burlap. The price of defiance had been twelve villagers, twelve fathers, sons, and brothers who would never come home.

And the message was clear: resistance was suicide.

Two of the bandits, both First Stage Fighters, leaned lazily on their weapons as they watched the villagers with mocking sneers. Their postures were relaxed, but their presence carried a dangerous weight. Power, the kind these villagers could never hope to match.

“Pathetic,” One of them muttered, spitting on the dirt near an old man’s hand. “They’re lucky the boss wants them alive.”

The other chuckled, kicking over a clay pot filled with water just to hear it shatter. “Alive for now,” he said, grinning. “Once we’re done, we’ll see if that changes.”

The mood shifted when they noticed movement, a figure approaching from the dirt path that led from a home in an elevated position.

Brother Hai. The red-haired man strode forward with a confident swagger, his tattered cloak fluttering behind him. Over his shoulder hung an unconscious girl, limp as a doll, her pale face framed by short green hair that brushed against his arm. Behind him came another man, tall, gaunt, and grim, dragging two small figures by the arms. 

“Call the boss,” Hai ordered, his tone sharp and commanding.

The two bandits stiffened immediately. Cultivation meant authority, and Hai’s aura, faintly visible around his frame and was far stronger than theirs. They nodded quickly and ran toward the larger house at the far end of the village square.

A moment later, a bald man emerged, his thick arms glistening with sweat. A jagged scar ran from his shoulder down his chest like a lightning strike. His lips twisted in annoyance.

“Hai, what do you want?” The bald man growled, hefting the enormous battle axe on his shoulder. “I was about to have some fun with the village girls. You better have a good reason for interrupting me.”

“Scum!” one of the villagers spat, his voice shaking with fury. He was a father, his eyes wild, his grief barely contained. “You—!”

The word never finished.

The bald man moved faster than thought. The axe flashed in a single gleaming arc and then silence. The villager’s head fell to the dirt with a soft, almost peaceful thud before his body collapsed beside it, blood soaking into the cracked earth.

A mother screamed. Children cried harder. The bald man didn’t even glance at the corpse.

“Boss,” Brother Hai said, his grin sharp as he dropped the unconscious girl at the man’s feet. “I brought you good news.”

The bald man tilted his head, eyes scanning the girl’s delicate face. “She’s a pretty one,” he admitted, rubbing his chin with a calloused hand. “But you could’ve waited until after I was done enjoying myself.”

Hai’s grin didn’t falter. “What if I told you,” he said slowly, letting the words hang in the air, “that she’s a First Stage Fighter?”

That made the boss pause. His grin widened, showing yellowed teeth. “Now that’s interesting,” he said, crouching down to inspect her more closely. “A cultivator hiding in this backwater dump? That’s a rare catch.” He straightened, turning to Hai. “You know anything about her? Anything that might convince her to join us willingly?”

Hai shrugged. “No clue. But I’m sure one of these villagers might.”

The boss chuckled darkly. “You’ve got a point.”

He turned to face the kneeling crowd, his presence oppressive, the faint killing intent radiating from him making the air itself seem heavier.

“All right, listen up!” he barked, slamming the butt of his axe into the ground. “Someone here knows who this girl is. Speak up, and maybe you live to see tomorrow.”

No one moved. The villagers kept their eyes down, trembling. Some wept quietly. None dared speak.

The boss sighed dramatically. “Fine,” he muttered. “Let’s make this simple.”

He walked up to a man near the front — a middle-aged farmer with sunburned skin and a shaking lip. The edge of the axe came to rest against the man’s neck. The steel gleamed, a mirror to the man’s terrified face.

“Talk,” the boss said softly. “Or die.”

The man’s resolve shattered like glass. “Her name is Wu Ying!” he blurted out, tears spilling down his cheeks. “She has two sisters, they live together with a brown-haired boy! Up in the woods, at the edge of the village! Please, that’s all I know!”

The boss grinned and lifted his axe, patting the man on the head mockingly. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He turned to his men. “You three—” he pointed to a group of Fighters “—go get her sisters. And bring that boy too. I want all of them here before sundown.”

The three bandits bowed slightly and took off in the direction of the forest, laughter echoing behind them.

“As for you,” the boss said, glancing at Hai, “keep an eye on her. And on them.” He gestured to the trembling villagers. “If anyone tries to play the hero, kill one at random. That’ll remind them what obedience looks like.”

Hai sighed and stretched, scratching the back of his neck. “Sure thing, boss. Sounds easy enough.”

The boss grunted and turned away, dragging his axe behind him like a child’s toy as he headed back toward the tents and the terrified screams that awaited him there.

Done with Chapter 4 remastered. Tell me what you think and if I made any mistakes.