A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5496

"Intruder!" Scarface bellowed, his shout cracking through the alley like shattered glass.

He whipped a black chain from beneath his cloak and snapped it toward Flaxseed's hiding place with the violence of a man strangling a serpent.

The links bristled with backward barbs, each joint bleeding a greasy, ink-black mist. This chain was made to drink spirit itself, a punishment far crueler than death.

Flaxseed knew better than to stand his ground. He pivoted and ran, loose robes flapping behind him.

The white-robed swordsman was faster. Golden arcs peeled from his blade and streaked after Flaxseed like falling meteors, driving the trickster into a desperate zigzag retreat.

Each sidestep shaved moments from his life. Sword light slashed new seams across his coat, smoke curling from the fresh cuts.

"Take him alive—do not let that rat slip away!" Scarface barked as he charged.

The black chain whirled above his head, weaving a net that dropped with the certainty of nightfall. A rancid stench rolled off the iron as though it had been quenched in the bile of hell.

Flaxseed slammed a golden charm onto the stones. A column of flame howled upward, bending the alley itself beneath its heat.

The blaze roared like an uncaged beast, forcing Scarface and the swordsman to reel back, arms raised against the searing tongues.

Seizing the heartbeat he'd bought, Flaxseed slipped into a side passage scarcely wider than his shoulders. Rough bricks scraped his sleeves as he wriggled deeper into the shadow.

He had covered barely ten paces when his chest slammed into someone standing silent in the dark.

"Easy there, friend. What's the hurry?" the stranger asked, voice smooth as warm wine.

The man wore homespun robes and an easy smile, the very picture of a harmless passerby caught after dusk.

Yet when their sleeves brushed, Flaxseed tasted the metallic tang of Celestial Palace authority. It clung to the stranger's aura like hidden steel beneath velvet.

Alarm bells screamed inside him. He spun, ready to bolt once more.

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