Bizarre Fate: An Urban Crime Xianxia
Chapter 20: Dreams Where Ur Murdered

There was a buzz deep in my gut as we cut across the dance floor. Eve with something to prove, Bruno simply thrilled with himself for goading us out. Think the guy got off on our anger, but he was growing on me. Most of the crowd made way, and we carved out our own private spot on the smooth tiled floor.

My legs were a bit wobbly., and my face grew only more numb. It’d been a long time since I’d last got myself screwed up on booze. Rumor was that the higher your cultivation the less it’d hit. It was a shame. You’d get a longer life, and yeah that was good and all, but an inconvenience was still inconvenient.

Time blurred and I made a dumb ass of myself on the floor. Bruno didn’t surprise me, the big guy had two left feet like me but the enthusiasm of an overgrown child, which made him redeemable, at least. His body jerking around like an over excited ape, and he goaded me into joining him. Eve watched and frowned, before making us stop to show us what she was capable of.

Eve buried us both in a minute, effortless with how she wove through space. As if she owned the floor. After handing both me and Bruno our asses, we conceded our loss to her. Not without a bit of self-shame. To my surprise, she didn’t gloat, or anything like that. But drifted back into an easy dance, even going so far as to share a couple of moves and take delight in giving me pointers in how I'd fucked up a step or two.

The tension slipped away. The DJ swapped between euro-rock and some southern swing; Eve stole a guy’s watch after he got handsy with an unwilling partner. Sei-Shin beats took the floor, and the club thickened with the pop music.

There’s an honesty to dancing. You’re forced to let go of your reservations and discard embarrassment, booze helped the transition, that and the catchy tunes. I fell into a trance dancing with Eve. When she dropped the constant snide remarks, I was shocked to admit I actually had fun in her company, and maybe she wasn't all bad.

Too long passed before I noticed Bruno was just gone. I yelled out to Eve, straining to get my voice heard over the music. “Where’s the big guy?!”

She shrugged. “Let’s get more drinks! He probably did!” We flowed away from the dance floor.

Kayson and Suzaki were holding down the spot near the bar, as promised. Our lieutenant flagged down a bartender for more drinks, predicting our intention. “Finally noticed he vanished?” Kayson asked.

“He didn’t come by?” I sat on a stool, my tongue felt awful heavy. Another bright neon green drink appeared near me. Kayson smiled and shook his head.

“So it begins,” Kayson said. Ominous

“What do ya mean by that?” I asked as Eve gave out a small curse. Then it hit me. If I were Bruno, why would I have snuck off from everyone else? To replace an immortals-damned fight.

“You did this on purpose!” She accused, jabbing a finger against Kayson’s chest.

“Shouldn't be sitting here wasting time—finish your drinks then go replace him. No telling what he’s gotten into.” He offered his hands up in mock apology. Me and Eve exchanged a look before the girl returned her attention to Kayson.

“You already know! Don’t you!?” she snapped up her beer and downed it in an impressive single gulp. Then slammed the bottle damn near hard enough to shatter. I jolted. My head was foggy, and I made the good decision not to down the extra drink Kayson got for me. My body refused to cooperate well—and I nearly fell over as I stood. “Where is he!?”

“S’all right, Eve. We’ll get’em.” I sauntered off to begin the search, sure that the big guy wouldn’t get too far away. Bruno was the only one I’d feel awful if he got hurt, maybe he’d gotten into a fight or—hell, maybe my gut was wrong. Maybe he was taking a leak.

Eve stormed off in a different direction. I sloppily shoved my way through the crowded club, slinking past shirtless guys and gorgeous women. Everything blended with the music, an awful blur that made my head spin and stomach churn. By the time I reached the bathroom, I knew I’d drank too much. The bathroom door swung open, and I got the strange sight of a priest of the Divine. The old man leaned over the counter, washing his hands with that odd wide-brimmed black hat and white collar they all wore. He raised an eyebrow at me, and I gave him an equally confused look.

I didn’t have time to question the nature of the uncommon priest. Didn’t get many of them in the Rising Sun, we preferred prayer to the tangible mortals. My stomach did a somersault and I forced out a quick, “Ya see a big guy?” hoping that the booze would settle

“I’ve seen much, son. Why don’t you come here; your face looks a bit green.”

“Uh…” I squinted. Then it hit me, my stomach bubbled as the burning liquor crawled up my throat. I gagged and rushed over to a stall. A moment later I was hunched over the toilet. Trying to suppress the debt of my bad decisions and prevent myself from losing my stomach in front of an immortals-damned priest.

The priest shuffled around behind me; turning all of the faucets on. Weird, but I was too distracted to care. Maybe he was trying to do me a small courtesy.

My thoughts were sluggish and a couple second before I felt certain I’d vomit up all the liquor, a bony hand grabbed me by the back of my hair. Twisting to get get a better grip. “What—“ He shoved my face into the very toilet I’d been about to puke my guts into.

With whiplash, the priest yanked my head out of the horrible water. I gasped, hands fumbling around trying to replace purchase on the slick porcelain. “Eat shit Brass King!” the priest cackled, before shoving my head back in the nasty water. I kicked out my legs, desperate to avoid drowning. But I kept slipping, splashing water all around as I struggled to break free. I heard a flush—as more water flooded in, before that psycho ripped my head out, letting me take a single gulp of air.

There was a single chance. Sobering quickly from the attempted drowning, I managed to touch the side of my face before he forced my face back into the toilet bowl. I rolled the dice—sparking my Soul Seed as a wild crack of blue lightning crashed into me.

I lashed out my leg in a spurt of luck-fueled desperation, slipping once more on the slick tiled floor. Only this time, my foot cracked into the priest’s heel, the sudden blow threw the squatting man off balance. He tried to adjust but the wet ground proved just as unstable for him as it was for me. The priest slid, and his grip on my hair loosened as he fell. With the strength of a man who didn’t wanna fucking drown in a toilet, I burst free. I scrambled away from the bowl and threw myself onto the priest.

We tussled on the ground, throwing half-powered punches. Neither of us gained any advantage but got absolutely drenched in toilet water. Eventually, we broke apart.

Whoever got their feet first would have the advantage. I managed to beat the bastard by a half-second. Without hesitation, I threw myself on him. I was far too drunk for the precise movements of Romeo’s style. No. I had to rely on tried and true brawling. I grabbed his head, and smashed it against the tiled floor, barely able to see in the scuffle as wet hair flopped into my eyes.

I smashed his head into the ground once more, I took a fist to the jaw, and returned the fuckers blow with a knee to his groin. He managed to elbow me in the gut. Bile rose up my throat as vomit threatened to come up.

I puked all over the fucker, drenching him in brightly colored gut-rot, the priest squirmed out from under me—stumbling away and reaching one of the sinks. Trying to use the support to climb to his feet. The muted sound of euro-rock and running water was the only sound other than our shaky breaths.

He was going to rush me again, I saw it in his eyes. I called upon Fickle Fate; blue sparks showered from the hand on my stomach. He gave an angry yell, his shoes squeaking across the ground as he ran at me. I ducked my head down, dodging a knee to my face. He’d overstepped and the weight of his body carried him as he tried to stop moving—but the ground was too wet—I let him fly over my back. There was a loud bang as he tripped. His head smashed into the toilet, shattering the piss-stained porcelain. Then, nothing.

I looked at him, his mouth open and eyes closed with his head resting on a mixture of blood, vomit, and toilet water rapidly spreading on the bathroom floor. His skin seemed to… boil away, transforming from the wrinkled guise of a priest to a kid a couple of years older than me. Wearing an ugly red Crimson Eagles jacket. Immortals-damned cultivators. I used the back of my hand to wipe my own puke from my lip.

What the fuck? Sure, he’d hurt me. But worse than that he’d wounded my fucking pride. He ruined my fucking hair. In a goddamn club of all places. I clambered to my feet, feeling far more sober now than five minutes ago.

Bruno!? Did this fucker get him too?

The bathroom door slammed open, and I turned ready for another fight. It was Eve, her face a pissed-off shade of red. “Come quick dumbass, I found him—“ she paused, looking me up and down, her eyes lingered on the unconscious Crimson Eagle. “—Fuck, Luca. What the hell happened here? Never mind, no time. C’mon, Bruno’s outside and needs help.” At least she didn’t make a stupid joke. She turned and ran out the door. I took one more look at the bastard who’d attacked me before following her.