VESSEL - Extinction Countdown 952: Brash Dominance

Ye Shisan spun at the taunt, sensing trouble.

A gaudy pack of Shamate youths surrounded them at the counter, led by a twenty-something punk, Master Hao.

This notorious wastrel, propped up by his father’s official power, swaggered through town. He’d founded the Youth Art Association, or YAA—a front for his freakish Shamate crew, mocked locally as the “Youth Abomination Alliance”.

To Master Hao, most women fell to his cash; the rest to his family’s power. Humbling Ye Shisan was a step toward claiming Yi Qing and You Long’er. The room grab? Pure chance.

The 666 Chain Hotel was his uncle’s chain, spanning the province. His mom insisted he stay there to keep him from trouble or shady hookups.

Tonight, Master Hao and his Youth Abomination Alliance, back from a joyride, crashed at the 666. Their large group “took” Ye Shisan’s two booked rooms.

It was a minor issue—the hotel planned to refund Ye Shisan. But Master Hao spilling the truth in his face? No one could stomach it.

You Long’er’s temper flared, fists itching, but Ye Shisan stopped her. He eyed Master Hao: “That’s it? How you settling this?”

Master Hao sneered, jabbing Ye Shisan’s chest: “Settle? Simple. Two choices: I take these women, you crash in my room. Or I take them and send you to the hospital, all-inclusive, for a month!”

His crew roared:“Crash in Master Hao’s room? You’ll boast for life!”“I’m for option two—my fists are hungry!”“This guy’s just tall. We’d make him cry with one piss each!”

Even Yi Qing’s face darkened. She touched her badge, debating flashing it, when Ye Shisan spoke:“I’ll offer you two choices too: You and your freaks scram, or I toss you all out.”

Master Hao’s grin turned vicious: “Damn! Been a while since I met such a tough guy. Last one who mouthed off—where’s he end up?”

His crew closed in, one growling: “Master Hao, that guy’s tendons got cut. Begging at the market now!”“This punk’s too loud. Say the word, we’ll feed his tongue to the dogs!”

Master Hao smirked: “You’ll learn you crossed the wrong guy!”

A commotion broke out at the door. A Shamate rushed in, shouting: “Master Hao! Wang… Brother Wang got beat!”

A group dragged in a man—Three-Ring Shamate, the punk You Long’er floored. Same crew, small world!

Still dazed, Three-Ring Shamate pointed at You Long’er’s group, sobbing: “Master Hao… they jumped me… back me up!”

The Shamates went berserk, yanking metal belts, grabbing chairs, charging in!

“Stop!”

Master Hao’s shout halted them.

“You hit my crew?” he asked Ye Shisan.

Ye Shisan gave a faint smile: “Bad dogs get disciplined.”

“Big talk!”

Master Hao swung a sudden fist. Ye Shisan didn’t dodge, taking the blow on his cheek.

But when Master Hao pulled back, his wrist was locked in Ye Shisan’s grip.

Master Hao froze in shock. A Trained Fighter!

He’d trained in combat for a decade, top dog in his posse, but he’d met his match.

Ye Shisan grinned: “You struck first.”

“What? You dare hit back—argh!”

A sharp crack rang out. Pain seared in Master Hao’s wrist. He jumped, seeing it limp—bone crushed!

“Argh! My hand! Slaughter that wretch! Slaughter him!”

Master Hao’s scream stopped. as Ye Shisan’s kick sent him and his crew sprawling.

More Shamates rushed in. Ye Shisan stepped up, slapping left and right. Slap! The lobby sparkled with stars.

Despite his lean frame, Ye Shisan’s strength was unreal. One slap spun heads thirty degrees—human necks don’t twist like that!

Several punks crumpled, clutching heads, wailing, “Onlookers froze.”

One slap, that power? Was he human?

Strictly, Ye Shisan wasn’t normal. He’d been released from an asylum by Old Pi.

When manic, patients—frail or not—lose neural brakes, unleashing raw power.

Violent ones, chained thickly, could bend pipes or snap irons in fits. One raging patient could overpower several men.

Battle-hardened soldiers, or those like Ye Shisan, tap adrenaline for bursts of force—slapping someone dead wasn’t rare.

Master Hao’s young crew, barely twenty, stood no chance against a thirty-something.

Sensing trouble, the Shamates scrambled to Hao Shao’s side:“Master Hao! You good?”“Let’s go—this guy’s trouble!”

Master Hao’s bloodshot eyes glared: “Call backup! I’ll end him! My hand!”

They dragged Master Hao and the twisted-neck punks out, piled into cars, and peeled off.

The happiest were two-and-a-half women. You Long’er, rage vented, hugged Ye Shisan, planting a kiss. Vanilla sighed, relieved—she’d nearly rushed in when he took that punch, only stopped by Yi Qing.

Only Yi Qing’s brow eased. She whispered: “Don’t stay. Head into the mountains tonight—they can’t follow. Keep tangling with these punks, and we’ll land in deeper trouble.”