A few days after the opening of Tich Tam Clinic...
The afternoon sun of Thuong Lan filtered through the rotting wooden window frames, casting long, amber streaks across the packed-earth floor. The heavy scent of herbal decoctions mingled with a light incense—a blend Lam Tich had crafted from cinnamon bark and dried mint to mask the smell of stagnant mold. The rhythmic thud of Dai Hung's mortar and pestle echoed like the heartbeat of the small shop.
Lam Tich sat behind the counter, his left hand tracing the texture of herb bundles carefully organized by Van Khue. His face was a mask of serenity, but his mind was a whirlwind of calculation: Void Energy has reached 48 points—mostly harvested from the gratitude of the poor. Stable, but too slow. I need a more potent source to fuel the next phase of the plan.
Suddenly, a cacophony from the street shattered the silence.
"Out of the way! Make room for Big Brother Ho!"
A shrill, domineering voice rang out, accompanied by the heavy rhythm of marching boots and the panicked cries of commoners.
Van Khue, standing by the door, turned back with a grim expression. "Great One, trouble. It's Ho the Jackal—the local tyrant of East Street. He's got seven or eight thugs with him, heading straight for us."
Dai Hung set down his pestle and stood up, his fists clenching until his knuckles turned white. The muscles on his bare arms rippled. "Again? Let me go out and break their bones."
"Be still," Lam Tich said, his voice unwavering. "Stand behind me. Van Khue, retreat to the back. Observe, but do not interfere."
No sooner had the words left his lips than the rickety wooden door of Tich Tam was kicked open, nearly flying off its hinges.
The first to enter was a short, wiry middle-aged man with a cunning face and beady eyes. A jagged, X-shaped scar marked his cheek, lending him a ghastly appearance. This was Ho the Jackal. He wore an expensive but worn silk robe of emerald green, leaning on a brass-tipped bamboo cane.
Behind him, his thugs crowded in—muscular youths with cruel eyes, wielding clubs and short knives. They flooded the space, instantly suffocating the small apothecary.
"So, this is the new shop everyone says has a 'miracle doctor'?" Ho the Jackal croaked, his eyes darting around with localized contempt. "Cramped, filthy. No wonder you only treat beggars."
Dai Hung growled deep in his throat, but Lam Tich raised a hand to stay him.
"Greetings, guest," Lam Tich said calmly, his sightless eyes directed toward Ho's voice. "Tich Tam Clinic welcomes all who seek healing. Tell me, what ails you?"
Ho the Jackal let out a piercing, mocking laugh. "What ails me? I'm as healthy as a bull, as strong as a tiger! I'm here to solve your problem, old blind man!"
He stepped forward, planting his cane in front of Lam Tich and leaning in close. "You're new to Van Trach, so you don't know the rules. In this district, if you want to do business in peace, you need 'protection.' Lucky for you, I'm the one who provides that service."
Lam Tich didn't flinch. "Protection? You mean you intend to safeguard my clinic?"
"Exactly!" a burly thug barked. "Pay the fee, and we ensure no one disturbs you."
"And the cost?" Lam Tich asked.
Ho the Jackal held up five fingers. "Five silver taels a month. A bargain."
Van Khue stepped out from the shadows, his voice cold. "Five taels? This tiny shop barely earns one tael a month. You're demanding five times our income?"
"No money?" Ho the Jackal sneered. "Then close the doors. Or..." He eyed Dai Hung greedily. "That big brute looks strong. Selling him to the northern stone quarries would cover your fees for a few months."
A flash of killing intent sparked in Dai Hung's eyes. He took a heavy step forward, his massive frame blotting out the light from the door. "Try me."
The air turned electric. Ho's thugs raised their weapons in unison. Ho himself took half a step back, gripping his cane tighter—despite his bravado, instinct told him the giant before him was no ordinary man.
"Dai Hung," Lam Tich's voice cut through the tension, steady and absolute. "Stand down."
"Great One!" Dai Hung protested.
"Stand down," Lam Tich repeated. The command was soft, yet brooked no defiance.
Dai Hung retreated, fuming, but remained positioned to strike at a moment's notice.
Lam Tich "looked" at Ho the Jackal. "Brother Ho, please understand. We have just opened; there is truly no coin. But I am a physician. If you or your men fall ill, I shall treat you for free. As for the protection fee... grant us time."
Ho the Jackal stared at Lam Tich. He had extorted many merchants; they either cowered or fought back with desperate rage. But this blind man, facing a violent mob, was impossibly calm. It made Ho feel... uneasy.
But greed soon smothered his unease. "No money? Then take your first lesson!"
He swung his bamboo cane, aiming to smash the medicine counter to assert his dominance.
But as the cane swung, Lam Tich spoke: "Does your back ache at night, Brother Ho? Specifically when the frost sets in—a pain like needles driving into your lumbar region, radiating down your right leg?"
The cane froze in mid-air.
Ho the Jackal's eyes bulged, his face turning ashen. He... he was indeed plagued by such a thing. An old injury from years ago that tormented him whenever he was tired or cold. But he had never told a soul, not even his closest confidants.
"What... what did you say?" His voice shook.
"And you are visited by nightmares," Lam Tich continued, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial whisper. "In your dreams, there is the sound of rushing water, the crying of a woman, and... the stench of iron-scented blood. Every time you wake, the back of your robe is soaked in a cold sweat."
Clack!
The bamboo cane fell to the floor.
The thugs looked at each other, bewildered. They had never seen their leader so paralyzed with fear.
"Who... who are you?" Ho the Jackal backed away two steps, his face pale. "Who told you these things?"
Lam Tich smiled—a gentle smile that, in this context, felt utterly ghoulish. "I am a physician. I 'hear' it from your body. Your breath is shallow and jagged when you speak of money, but the moment I mention disease, your heart skips a beat—the sign of a secret fear being exposed. As for the dreams... the scent of dried blood and cold sweat still clings to you, and your complexion is that of one whose soul is being gnawed by 'Mind Demons'."
A deathly silence enveloped the room.
Ho the Jackal stood there, trembling. Lam Tich's words had struck the marrow of his deepest terrors—not just the fear of illness, but the fear of his past sins. Those dreams... they were real. And they always returned to a rainy night years ago, a small river, and a woman...
"Enough... fine!" Ho suddenly shrieked, his voice cracking with panic. "I'll... I'll give you more time! Three days! I'll come back in three days. If you don't have the five taels... you know the consequences!"
He turned and practically fled the shop, leaving his brass-tipped cane on the ground. His thugs exchanged confused glances before scurrying after him.
Tich Tam Clinic was quiet once more.
"Great One," Dai Hung said, his voice brimming with awe. "You chased that bastard away with just a few words!"
Van Khue stepped forward, his eyes complex. "It's not that simple. You struck his psyche. But he will return. Men like Ho the Jackal become more violent when they are afraid, to hide their own weakness."
"Indeed," Lam Tich nodded. "He will return. And he will bring more men, more aggression. But I do not intend to wait for him."
He turned to Van Khue. "What have you gathered on him?"
Van Khue nodded. "Ho the Jackal—born Ho Thiet. From a poor fishing family. Ten years ago, his entire family died in a boat wreck; he was the sole survivor. Since then, he became a henchman for the Tran Clan—a minor family dealing in the town's underworld. He is famously cruel, but also famously... superstitious. Rumor has it a fortune teller told him he has 'Yin energy' clinging to him, so he is deathly afraid of spirits."
Lam Tich smiled. "Good. Very good. A fear of spirits... the perfect crack in the armor."
The Dream Invasion.
That night, as darkness swallowed Van Trach, Lam Tich sat alone in the inner room. Before him was a
small wooden bowl of water and a flickering candle.
[ Void Energy: 48/100 ]
[ Target: Ho the Jackal (Ho Thiet) ]
[ Activate Conceptual Borrowing: "Mind Demon Illusion" — Cost: 30 points ]
[ Condition: Target is asleep and mentally unstable (MET) ]
Lam Tich closed his eyes, focusing his entire willpower. He didn't need to know where Ho was sleeping—having established a "link" through their dialogue and the fears he had touched, the System found the path.
In his mind, the image of a dark room materialized. Ho the Jackal lay on a wooden bed, his body curled, his face contorted even in sleep.
In the dream of Ho the Jackal...
He stood on the bank of a small river with water as black as ink. A blood-red moon hung in the sky, casting crimson streaks across the surface. A cold wind blew, carrying the smell of algae and... blood.
"This... this river..." Ho Thiet trembled. He recognized this place. This was the stretch of river south of town where the wreck had happened.
From the depths of the river, a dark shape slowly rose. First came pale, bloated fingers, then long black hair matted over a face, and finally a drenched figure in a faded blue dress.
"Have you... forgotten me?" The voice was wet and cold, like water trickling over stone.
Ho backed away, his limbs turning to jelly. "No... it wasn't me! I didn't mean it! It was the boat! The wood was rotten!"
"The boat you intentionally bored holes into..." The voice drew closer. The woman stepped onto the bank, water streaming from her body in black ribbons. "To steal the family's fish money... so only you would survive..."
"No! No!" Ho screamed, turning to run.
But the scenery warped. Now he stood in a dark room before a middle-aged man bound and gagged, eyes wide with hateful recognition.
"Brother... you sold me out for ten taels..." the man's voice echoed in Ho's mind.
The scenes shifted faster. A young girl pressed against a wall, clothes torn, eyes streaming... An old man with broken legs, wailing in the dirt...
The sins he had buried now surged back like a tide.
"Enough! Enough!" Ho knelt, clutching his head. "I repent! Spare me!"
Then, from the deepest shadow, a new figure appeared.
Unlike the ghosts, this was a towering silhouette clad in a floor-length black cloak. His face was a featureless white mask—no eyes, no mouth, only abstract lines that evoked a sense of profound, frigid emptiness. Around him, the air seemed to choke; even the light of the blood moon dared not touch him.
"Ho Thiet."
The voice didn't come from a mouth; it resonated within his soul—distorted, layered, and devoid of heat.
Ho looked up at the black figure, his body freezing.
"I am The Night Emperor," the voice boomed. "Lord of the Shadows, Collector of wretched souls like yours."
"Night... Night Emperor?" Ho stammered.
"Your transgressions have piled into a mountain. The spirits you created are wailing in the abyss," the Night Emperor said, each word like a hammer to the heart. "I have watched you. And I have decided: you are not even worthy of my personal collection."
A spark of hope lit in Ho's eyes. "Then... then you will spare me?"
"No," the voice cut him off coldly. "I am giving you one final chance. Leave Van Trach before dawn. Never return. If you ever set foot in this town again..."
The Night Emperor raised a hand. In his pitch-black palm, a sickly blue flame erupted.
"Your soul shall burn in this flame for eternity. And your secrets... I shall lay them bare for the world to see."
Ho nodded frantically. "I'll go! I'll go right now!"
"And one more thing," the Night Emperor's voice turned dangerously soft. "Tich Tam Clinic... that place is under my protection. If you or any you know dare touch it... the consequences will be ten thousand times worse."
"Yes! Yes! I wouldn't dare! Never again!"
"Begone. And never return."
The dream shattered. Ho the Jackal sat bolt upright in bed, drenched in cold sweat, his heart hammering against his ribs.
He looked around the dark room. In the corner, a faint blue spark flickered and died—the exact color of the flame from the dream.
Ho didn't hesitate. He scrambled out of bed, grabbed his most portable valuables, and fled into the night. He mounted his horse and galloped out of Van Trach under the fading moon.
The Seed of a Legend
The next morning, news ripped through East Street: Ho the Jackal, the district's most vicious tyrant, had vanished. He had abandoned his property and his men, fleeing town in the dead of night. The last person to see him said his face was as white as a sheet, his eyes bulging with a terror that looked like he was being hunted by ghosts.
The Tran Clan was furious, sending men to search, but found no trace.
In Tich Tam Clinic, Dai Hung laughed heartily as he heard the news. "Ha! That bastard actually ran! Great One, you are truly divine!"
Van Khue remained pensive. "But the Tran Clan won't let this go easily. They've lost face, and they will surely suspect us."
Lam Tich, sitting behind the counter with a slightly pale complexion from the night's energy expenditure, nodded. "True. But they have no proof. And more importantly... they will be afraid."
He raised his head toward the door, where the daylight streamed in.
"A seed of legend has been planted," Lam Tich whispered to himself. "Now, we wait for it to sprout. Every time something strange happens, every time a villain is punished... they will whisper the name of the 'Night Emperor'."
[ Void Energy: 18/100 (Consumed 30) ]
[ Harvested from Ho Thiet's Terror: +12 points ]
Van Khue looked at Lam Tich, feeling a complex mix of reverence and a creeping, vague fear. The blind man before him was not just a physician; he was an architect of stories, a manipulator of collective perception.
"Great One," Van Khue said, "this will draw more attention. Both good and bad."
Lam Tich smiled—a gentle, benevolent smile that stood in jarring contrast to his deeds of the night.
"Then let them look. A good play needs an audience. And I... I shall show them exactly what they want to see, and exactly what they fear to find."
Outside, the wind carried the whispers:
"I heard the Night Emperor scared Ho the Jackal away...""Who is the Night Emperor?""The Lord of Shadows! They say he punishes the wicked...""But why Ho? Was it because he harassed Tich Tam Clinic?""Definitely! I hear Physician Lam is under the Emperor's protection..."
The seed had been sown. And in the darkness of rumor and fear, it began to grow.