Mummy

The new scroll's paper was thinner than the desert map's, with several spots along the edges worn smooth and shiny, as if it had been handled countless times. That night, Lin Chen spread the scroll beneath the lamp and studied the intersecting arcs several more times. The direction of those arcs overlapped with the faint line on the map at the end—not merely heading the same way, but like a continuation of the same path.

He turned the scroll over, but the back was blank. Running his fingers over the paper, he felt the texture of cloth mixed with pulp, like paper pressed from old fabric. When he held it up to the lamp and looked through it, the fibers were evenly distributed, with no hidden layers or dark patterns.

The next morning, Lin Chen brought the scroll to the tool shed and placed it on the same shelf as the stone slab and pottery shards. He stood there for a while as sunlight streamed through the high window and fell across the scroll's edge. After lingering before the shelf a little longer, he adjusted the direction in which the scroll was curled so that it faced the same way as the stone slab beside it. Krillin leaned halfway through the doorway. "We're taking a new route for today's run—toward the outpost, two round trips."

The running route stretched along the coast to a fork in the road, then turned inland through the woods before doubling back at the outpost entrance and returning the same way. Two laps nearly doubled their usual distance. The ground was more complicated than expected, especially along the old road, where tree roots and loose stones crisscrossed the path, and some spots required detours around puddles. After finishing both laps, Lin Chen stopped at the outpost entrance and caught his breath. The sun had risen above the treetops, casting slanted patches of light across the open ground. The outpost's stone walls looked even older in the morning light, while the moss around their base was drying and curling at the edges, as though its moisture were slowly being drawn away.

Krillin stopped too. "More tiring than running along the coastline."

Lin Chen adjusted his breathing. "The ground is uneven. You have to put more force into every step."

The two did not stay at the outpost long and ran back to Kame House the way they had come. After their morning run, Lin Chen washed his face by the water jar in the courtyard. The water inside had already been warmed by the sun, and he could clearly feel its heat when he splashed it onto his face. He straightened up, wiped away the water, and headed for the tool shed. As he reached the door, he noticed that a patch of soil around the roots of the old coconut tree at the corner of the house was a different color from the surrounding earth—darker, as if it had recently been turned over, with several faint scratch marks on its surface.

He crouched down for a closer look. There were no footprints in the soil, but there was a shallow depression, as though something had been buried there and then removed. He brushed aside the surface layer with his hand. The soil was loose and uncompressed, and the edges of the depression remained damp, showing no signs of drying or curling. He stood and called into the house, "Master Roshi, was anything buried beneath the coconut tree at the corner of the house?"

After a while, Master Roshi poked his head out through the kitchen window. "There used to be an old whetstone buried there. We dug it up later and moved it. What is it?"

"There's a depression in the soil. It looks like it was disturbed recently."

Master Roshi glanced at him through the window. "Could be the wind. The soil over there is loose. When the wind gets strong, it blows away the top layer."

Lin Chen lowered his head and looked at the depression again, but did not touch it further. He entered the tool shed, picked up the new scroll, and unrolled it for another look. One corner of the paper was slightly curled, as though it was a spot frequently gripped by someone. He set the scroll down, turned, and returned to the courtyard.

That afternoon, while Krillin was sorting through a coil of old rope in the courtyard, Master Roshi came out of the house holding a letter. The paper had yellowed, and its creases were deeply pressed, as if it had been folded and unfolded many times. "It came this morning. Someone from Fortuneteller Baba's place left it." He handed the letter to Lin Chen. "They said there are still two opponents left at the arena. You and Krillin should go over when you have time. There's no time limit, but the sooner, the better."

Lin Chen took the letter and unfolded it for a glance. There was only one sentence written on the paper: "Numbers Four and Five are still here. Come over." The signature was the same symbol as last time.

Krillin came over and took a look as well. "This afternoon or tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." Lin Chen folded the letter and slipped it into his pocket. "We've trained enough today."

The next morning, the two headed to the arena once more. In the inner hall, Fortuneteller Baba sat in her usual spot, with a figure wrapped head to toe in bandages standing beside her. The bandages were yellowish, their edges worn from use, as if they had been there for a long time. The figure stood completely still, a pair of eyes visible through the gaps in the wrappings as they stared toward the entrance.

Fortuneteller Baba said, "Number Four, Mummy. His body has undergone a certain kind of treatment. If you strike him with ordinary fists and kicks, he'll reflect part of the damage back at you. Which of you is going first?"

Krillin stepped forward. "I will."

He walked to the center of the open space and took his stance, not rushing to attack as he observed for a moment. Mummy stood opposite him without taking any offensive posture, simply waiting in silence. After a few seconds, Krillin stepped forward and threw a straight right punch at Mummy's chest. The instant his fist touched the bandages, a dull thud rang out—like striking thick, wet cloth rather than bone or muscle. Krillin pulled back his fist. A faint red mark had appeared along the inside of his wrist, as if some force had rebounded into it.

"It really does reflect force." Krillin shook his hand. "It's not strong, but every hit stacks in the same spot."

Mummy did not counterattack. He merely stood there and waited. Krillin threw another punch, this time with more force. A heavier sound rang out as his knuckles hit the bandages, and when he withdrew his hand, the red mark on the back of it was deeper than before. He paused, then adjusted his angle on the third strike—instead of punching Mummy's chest directly, he aimed toward the shoulder at a sharper slant, like a punch cutting in diagonally. This time, the bandages briefly caved in on contact, but the rebounding force was noticeably weaker.

"Hitting at an angle weakens the rebound," Krillin said.

He stepped back half a pace, lowered his guard, and looked at Lin Chen. "You try."

Lin Chen walked to the center of the open space and looked at Mummy. He raised his right hand, brought his fingers together, and slashed diagonally toward Mummy's shoulder with the edge of his palm, using the same angle Krillin had used. A soft sound came as the edge of his hand met the bandages. He felt a faint push from the point of contact, but it was not strong. Rather than withdrawing his hand, he followed through and pushed forward another half inch, spreading the force more evenly over a wider contact surface.

Mummy neither moved nor fought back. Fortuneteller Baba nodded from her chair. "That's enough. Fight Number Five in a couple of days. Number Five isn't here."

[Ding! Endured rebounding force. Obtained Energy Rebound Fragment ×1. Current physical technique rebound resistance: 1%.]

Lin Chen withdrew his hand and felt a faint warmth in his palm, as if it had been briefly heated. He looked down at it. There were no red marks, and his skin color was normal. He lowered his hand, turned around, and returned to Krillin's side.

When they left the arena, the wind was stronger than when they had arrived, stirring the leaves of the roadside shrubs and exposing their grayish-white undersides as they flipped. Lin Chen could still feel that fleeting warmth lingering at his fingertips, gradually fading away.

When they returned to Kame House, Master Roshi was in the courtyard inspecting a wooden stake outside the tool shed. Its base had loosened somewhat, as if it had been repeatedly shaken by the wind, and a ring of fine cracks had appeared in the surrounding soil. He crouched there, pressing a hand against the stake's base to confirm where it had loosened, then looked up at them. "Finished?"

"Number Four is done. Number Five isn't there, so we'll go back in a couple of days," Krillin said.

Master Roshi stood and patted the dirt from his hands. "Then wait for word. Number Five is usually tougher than the first four." He turned toward the tool shed, then added after taking a few steps, "Get some rest too. There's training again tomorrow." Lin Chen stood in the courtyard and looked once more at the old coconut tree in the corner. The depression near its roots was still there, but it was shallower than yesterday, and the soil around its edges was slowly flattening, as though the wind had smoothed it over. He watched it for a while before turning and walking into the house.