Chapter 51: Stirring Up Waves

The thread kept growing, the posts piling higher and higher. It wasn’t until it had reached two thousand replies that the forum administrator finally noticed: “What’s going on? How did this thread appear, and how did it shoot straight to the front page?”

On a major forum like Cape Corner, every thread on the homepage was carefully curated. Other companies had to pay if they wanted their threads featured. The administrator immediately went to read the post. It was gripping, thrilling even, but something was off. Although the Chopstick Hero was doing the right thing, the government would never tolerate such a vigilante, and the thread contained graphic images—clear violations. He rushed to delete the post, only to discover it was impossible.

He reported the problem at once. Those with administrative privileges at Cape Corner tried to intervene, but even they couldn’t remove the thread. It was obvious to anyone with sense: a formidable hacker was at work.

The situation only grew more chaotic. More and more people viewed the post, the buzz swelling. Eventually, the impact became too great, too damaging. The authorities acted, shutting down the entire forum.

But almost immediately, the thread appeared again and again, popping up on other forums big and small. Deleting them became an endless, futile task. The authorities were exasperated. They tried to trace the poster, but the trail zigzagged through countless compromised computers, making any real investigation impossible.

A wave of support for the Chopstick Hero swept across the internet. Previously, Shen Ye’s acts of vengeance against evil had largely gone unnoticed, quickly suppressed before word could spread. But this time, with the help of top-tier hacker Du Li, Shen Ye’s deeds were broadcast far and wide.

Of course, this publicity brought consequences. Some people were furious, and the pressure mounted on the N County Public Security Bureau. The message was clear: “What’s going on with the N County criminal investigation team? It’s been so long, and you still haven’t caught the Chopstick Fiend. You have one month—catch him, or else.”

Captain Meng and his colleagues were already at their wits’ end. This wasn’t their first encounter with the Chopstick Fiend. He was exceedingly cautious, always wearing bizarre masks during his crimes, never letting a camera catch his face. He always wore gloves, leaving no fingerprints. Whenever there was blood, he meticulously cleaned up, leaving not a trace for DNA analysis.

Catching such a near-superhuman criminal was almost impossible.

* * *

The underworld of N County used to be split: Horse in the south, Deer in the north, Bear in the east, Wolf in the west. But both Horse and Deer had been taken down.

* * *

Even Bear in the east and Wolf in the west had been operating quietly, keeping their men in check, all of them trembling with fear. As some thugs grumbled in private, “Damn it, what’s the point of being a gangster if you can’t be arrogant, can’t walk with swagger, can’t have face? Now we’re all cowering because of some Chopstick Fiend. Pathetic.”

Some of the less contented ones had already decided to leave N County altogether, heading for the bustling metropolis of Ram City rather than living in constant fear.

Bear—whose real name was Xiong Xinxing—was one of the four big bosses. Yet he looked nothing like a gangster. He was in his late forties, almost fifty, plump, always smiling, resembling the Laughing Buddha. Most people, on seeing him, would be taken aback—could such a genial man really be a crime boss? It seemed a joke.

But only those who had truly dealt with Xiong Xinxing knew he was, in fact, the genuine article. Outwardly affable, he was, in truth, ruthless and merciless.

Xiong Xinxing hailed from Chaozhou, and he loved his kung fu tea. Kung fu tea, as the name suggests, required both time and skill. With a long history—said to have evolved from the “small cup tea” of Fujian—tea competitions were all the rage among the upper classes during the Song Dynasty. Whoever had the best tea would invite guests to sample it, and sometimes guests would bring even better tea to challenge the host. This custom gradually spread to tea farmers and merchants, who would taste and compare teas daily. Drinking so much, they switched from large cups to small ones, developing the strong, rich small-cup tea that became the prototype of kung fu tea.

Tasting kung fu tea was a famous custom in the Chaoshan region. Every household had a tea set, and no day was complete without several rounds. Even those who moved away or emigrated overseas kept up the tradition—wherever there were people from Chaoshan, there was kung fu tea.

At that moment, Xiong Xinxing was brewing his tea. Usually, he was calm and composed during this ritual, but lately, he’d been sipping tea with a slight frown. The Chopstick Fiend weighed heavily on his mind.

Horse and Deer had been his equals; their deaths gave him reason to worry. He had sent his men out, frantically searching, but to no avail—the Chopstick Fiend was nowhere to be found.

* * *

Just then, a subordinate in a black suit entered. “Boss, the Chopstick Fiend has struck again. This time, he killed a child trafficker. The fiend really does it all—one job after another.”

“The Chopstick Fiend has appeared?” Xiong Xinxing was momentarily stunned. His hand trembled almost imperceptibly before he steadied himself and took a sip of tea. Slowly, he said, “The Chopstick Fiend probably fancies himself a hero. Doesn’t he realize what age we live in? This is a society of law and money. Heroes belong in the trash heap of history.”

“He killed a trafficker? He must be awfully bored. Which gang was the trafficker from?”

“It was Li Jinguo’s gang,” the subordinate replied.

“What? Li Jinguo’s gang? Li Jinguo, Li Jinguo… the name sounds familiar.” Xiong Xinxing paused, then broke into wild laughter. “Ha! The Chopstick Fiend, we’ve never been able to handle you, but now you’ve killed Li Jinguo—you’re asking for trouble. You’re a dead man, nothing to worry about now.”

The subordinate was taken aback. “Boss, you’ve always said the Chopstick Fiend was the most difficult opponent. We’ve tried everything, but nothing worked. Why are you so sure he’s doomed now?”

“He killed the wrong person,” Xiong Xinxing said with a cold laugh. “He’s provoked the most wicked man in all of N County!”

“The most wicked man?” the subordinate gasped, his pupils contracting. “Isn’t that just a legend? Is there really such a person?”

Xiong Xinxing sneered. “The last crime boss who doubted the existence of the most wicked man was Ji Jinglu. At the time, he ruled over half of N County. What happened? His head ended up hanging from the glass facade of the Jianye Building he developed. But that was back in the late ’90s—you probably wouldn’t know.”

“Long, long ago—I don’t even know when it started, probably before the founding of the country—there was a most wicked man in N County.”

“This man would kill anyone who displeased him.”

“Since the founding, more than sixty years have passed. How many bosses in China refused to believe the stories? Every one of their graves is overgrown by now.”

“Who is the most wicked man?” the subordinate asked, curiosity in his voice.

“The most wicked man is an old beggar named Lu. Rumor has it he came from the Beggar Clan and has lived in seclusion here in N County for ages. Whoever crossed him died—legend has it that even during wartime, some men tried to take him out with guns, but he killed them instead. Compared to the Chopstick Fiend, his record was far more impressive.” Xiong Xinxing slammed the table. “And Li Jinguo was his disciple. The Chopstick Fiend killed Li Jinguo—he’s courting death.”

“He’s done for!”

(Normally updates after midnight, but posting early today. The new book is already fifth in the rankings—thanks for your support, and please keep voting!)