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Qinghe Sect.
Located in the Impure Realm, Qinghe was known as the land of warriors. Their disciples valued strength, discipline, and straightforwardness above all else. They preferred action over words, battle over debate, and many believed the quickest path to solving a problem was to hit it hard enough.
And Grimmjow Jaegerjaques was getting tired and annoyed at the muscle heads around him.
Grimmjow was resting atop one of the tallest trees near the training grounds, completely ignoring the commotion below. With how naturally loud they were, he knew they were looking for him, but he had no intention of humoring them. He mindlessly watched a nest of newly hatched birds overhead while chewing on a piece of licorice, giving his mouth something to do lest he bite someone's head off.
He should have never left Yunmeng.
At least Yunmeng had lakes to swim in and spear fishing. Here there was nothing but endless stretches of trees.
For a sect that supposedly valued military strategy, it sure seemed as though they all shared a single brain cell, and the one controlling it was, of course, the loud gorilla leader of the Nie Clan. He still couldn’t believe the gorilla had a tiny little brother. Though he had a creepy feeling about him. Nobody was trustworthy if they insisted on hiding half their face.
Grimmjow had instructed Shawlong a few days ago to prepare a roundabout route back to Yunmeng based on the missions assigned to him. If he had to travel anyway, he might as well enjoy himself and look for people to fight.
Just as Grimmjow swallowed his last licorice, Shawlong appeared near his foot.
“Took you long enough. I was about to murder someone.”
“Thank you for your patience, Grimmjow.”
Grimmjow sat up and held out a hand. Shawlong immediately passed him the map with several locations already circled. Shawlong then proceeded to explain the route. Since the missions already involved bandits, smugglers, mercenaries, or other criminals that Grimmjow could entertain himself with along the way, most of the locations Shawlong circled were for basic resting with a sprinkle of out of the ordinary. Grimmjow approved three stops and rejected the remaining with the only fancy stops being the village near a waterfall. Shawlong, very much unsurprised by his choices, made a few adjustments before pointing at the final destination.
“I believe the final stop is the Burial Mounds.”
“What’s in there?”
“It is a well known place for thieves and scavengers to gather. I think you will enjoy some looting before riding the river current near the edge of the hill straight to Yunmeng.”
Grimmjow thought for a moment before shrugging.
“Sounds like a plan, but what else? I’m sure looting isn’t the only thing you chose in this place.”
“I heard rumors - from multiple sources - that a Ghost lived there.”
Grimmjow snorted.
“Ghosts aren’t real.”
“Precisely. Which is why I suspect a martial artist is living there. The Ghost only targets criminals, and every report claims their stolen goods are seized afterward.”
Grimmjow stared at Shawlong with a look that said ‘so?’.
“It is my theory that the Ghost earned that name because no one has managed to capture him. And based on the rumors, the fate of those who encountered him was a humiliating defeat, that in order to save their pride, they blamed it on a myth.”
“Still not getting your point.”
Shawlong sighed.
“No one has ever won against the Ghost.”
Silence followed as Shawlong waited for Grimmjow’s expected reaction to the sentence.
Grimmjow grinned wildly.
“Let’s hunt a ghost.”
It took a whole month to finally reach the Burial Mounds, but instead of feeling tired, Grimmjow was restless. Before leaving for Yunmeng and bidding Grimmjow a safe journey,Shawlong had shared a few credible pieces of information to help Grimmjow to help Grimmjow find the Ghost.
Grimmjow followed information he had obtained from an inn where he stayed near the Gathering. The Ghost was either a vigilante or a kleptomaniac. Either way, a gathering of other kleptomaniacs would attract another one.
Despite enrolling in Qinghe, Grimmjow was very agile and sneaky, so it was very easy to infiltrate the gathering. Looking down at the gathering from his hiding spot above, he noticed that the goods were not some second-rate shit you could find at a flea market. Those looked like the kind of things you either inherited through generations of wealth or obtained by gambling away your livelihood for a moment of prosperity
Grimmjow made himself comfy as he waited for the Ghost.
He expected it might take the whole day, but the Ghost seemed eager to meet him.
A commotion erupted below; people yelled and screamed as they ran back and forth in panic.
“THE GHOST! THE GHOST IS HERE!”
“SAVE THE GOODS!!!”
“RUUNNN!!!”
Grimmjow kept himself still. It was not yet the right time to jump the Ghost, so he had to satisfy himself with simply watching until he could properly identify him. It was a struggle to concentrate with so many people running about. To make matters worse, the mist that had conveniently rolled in made it harder to locate the Ghost.
A flash of white crossed his field of vision, and Grimmjow immediately locked in. He slowed his breath to concentrate on keeping him in his field of vision. It was fascinating how the Ghost moved around the camp without so much as disturbing the mist around him.
Ah. He couldn’t wait.
Grimmjow balled his fists to keep himself in check, but he couldn’t keep the grin from stretching wide across his face and his mind from racing through things he wanted to do to the Ghost.
Their fight would be deliciously entertaining.
When he noticed only a few criminals remained, Grimmjow started to make his move. Slowly and carefully, he moved closer to what remained of the gathering. After finding a hiding spot close to the Ghost, Grimmjow almost lost his composure when he finally got a good look at him.
A beauty dressed in white.
He truly fit the moniker of a Ghost.
And he shall be mine to conquer.
Grimmjow found the split second opening in the Ghost's defenses. He poured all that pent-up energy into ambushing the Ghost. The shocked expression when he finally noticed him; emerald eyes widening and a petite mouth parting slightly. It was truly stunning.
Grimmjow then threw a right hook straight to the face.
The Ghost seemed to compose himself in a split second and dodged. He put some distance between them. Grimmjow expected the Ghost to run, but he was pleasantly surprised when the Ghost simply stared him down from where he stood.
Grimmjow could not stop grinning.
Rising from his crouch, Grimmjow finally spoke to the Ghost.
“Let’s dance, beautiful.”
The voice of the graveyard came from the Ghost.
“Prepare for defeat, trash.”
Grimmjow cackled as he leapt towards the Ghost.