Chapter Fifty-Four: Taking Down Apopo

A harsh sizzling sound of electricity burning through flesh echoed in the air. Ah Kou’s head twitched under the surge of current. The stun baton was a high-voltage pulse device—nonlethal, but when both electrodes completed a circuit through the body, it could pierce human flesh with a stabbing agony. Normally, with Ah Kou’s robust physique, a blow from the baton would have been nothing. But this time, the baton was pressed against his head.

Beneath the skull lay the vulnerable brain. No matter how formidable or resilient Ah Kou was, his brain could not boast much defense. The pulsed current’s penetrating nature sent it straight through bone and into the delicate neural tissue. When a stun baton struck the body, it could make most people faint from pain. Passing through the head, the current brought an unimaginable spiritual torment.

Wracked with pain, Ah Kou couldn’t finish off Wang Ling in time. The hand gripping his hair jerked, flinging him a dozen meters away to crash violently onto the ground.

Freed from the electric grip, Ah Kou clutched his head, swaying a few times before regaining clarity. He glanced down at the spreading stain of blood on his lower body, thick, dark muscles twitching in rage and pain; his hatred for Wang Ling now surpassed even that for Cheng Fu, the man who had shattered his throat.

Striding over, Ah Kou saw Wang Ling still clutching the stun baton. He seized it, pressed the switch, crouched, and gripped Wang Ling’s jaw with his left hand, dislocating it with a single twist.

With Wang Ling’s mouth forced open, Ah Kou’s face contorted into a cruel, bloodthirsty grin. The baton, crackling with blue-white arcs, thrust violently into Wang Ling’s mouth. The head at least had a skull for some protection, but the mouth—soft tongue and bare palate—offered none. Unspeakable pain exploded from his tongue, the current scorching tender flesh, the taste of burnt tissue and blood filling his senses with hellish suffering. Wang Ling felt death clawing at him; even his temples pounded furiously. An ordinary body might have lapsed into neurogenic shock from such agony.

Wang Ling’s head reeled, his consciousness blurred by the spreading current. Then a voice rang in his mind:

“Your summoned character Wang Long has leveled up, from level 1 to level 2. Strength +3, Agility +2, Stamina +4, Intelligence +1. Upon leveling up, if health and spirit are below 50% of their maximum, they are restored to 50%.”

At the edge of his vision, Wang Ling saw Wang Long, previously pinned down, now sitting up. Gripping the coiling dragon staff lodged in his gut, Wang Long yanked it free. The black dragon motif along the staff had turned blood-red; as he pulled the weapon out, jets of blood spurted, a brutal and savage sight.

Wang Long’s face was taut, his jaw clenched and brows furrowed with a bandit’s ferocity. He had drawn the weapon from his body, leaving only a short length exposed above the cement. Now, of the five and a half foot staff, nearly five feet were stained a dark, bloody red.

The entire dragon staff was now a rod of blood.

Staff in hand, Wang Long stood. Though still wounded, the fierce battle and recent level-up had restored half his health and spirit, so most of his strength had returned. His attributes had improved, especially stamina, which had risen from thirty-five to thirty-nine; with a maximum health of 195, he now had 98 remaining—almost equal to Wang Ling’s full vitality.

After rising, Wang Long saw Ah Kou torturing Wang Ling with the stun baton. His eyes instantly turned blood-red. He broke into a silent run, toes barely touching the ground—a covert step, nearly soundless, perfect for ambush. As he moved, the black-and-red dragon staff lifted, his eyes fixed on the back of Ah Kou’s head.

It was the ideal spot for a sneak attack.

In a flash, Wang Long leaped behind Ah Kou, caring nothing for the blood pouring from his wound. With all his strength, he unleashed the most savage downward strike from his twenty-four-stroke staff technique.

Fifty-five pounds of solid weapon, wielded by a master, came crashing down with the force of a mountain collapsing. The staff fell like thunder, the gale roaring, a sound like a hurricane, surging with destructive power toward the back of Ah Kou’s skull.

Sensing danger, Ah Kou tried to turn, but the speed of the staff was lightning. Before he could react, the black-red staff, trailing afterimages through the air, smashed into his occiput.

A sickening thud. Blood poured immediately from Ah Kou’s head. The blow carried over a thousand pounds of force—enough to shatter granite—yet it did not burst his skull but cracked bone and spilled blood, driving his kneeling body into the ground.

Though not killed instantly, the brutal blow left his brain severely concussed, blood gushing from his head like a fountain. His life bar hovered at barely a fifth.

The dragon staff had struck squarely, a perfect hit. Ordinarily, Ah Kou would never have been so easily ambushed, but his fury over his injuries made him reckless, and the electrical crackle of the baton masked the sound of Wang Long’s stealthy approach.

Even as he sensed something behind him, there was no time to defend or dodge.

The recoil split open Wang Long’s already wounded palm, but he ignored the pain, swinging the staff horizontally with both hands. This sweeping blow was no less fierce than the previous strike; as it swept, it drew a fan-shaped blur through the air.

Such a blow, if it struck an ordinary person, would not merely send them flying—it would cleave them in two.

This time, the staff smashed into the side of Ah Kou’s face, the force exploding his eye. Cloudy vitreous fluid flew under the staff’s wind, splattering the cement with a soft pop before Ah Kou’s body was hurled away.

The agony of his ruptured eye seemed to snap him out of the concussion from the previous blow. This dark warrior, boss of the Double Dragon 2 fifth stage, was formidable indeed. Even as he was flung away, his right hand shot out and caught the head of the dragon staff.

Dragged by Ah Kou’s grip, Wang Long was carried with him, both men crashing to the ground and tumbling together.

Ah Kou’s eye was ruined, blood covering his entire face, even his nose crushed. His health bar was just a sliver—this giant black fighter was hanging by a thread.

Yet he had not lost all fighting ability. Locked in a grapple with Wang Long, he kept his right hand gripping the dragon staff and raised his left arm to clamp around Wang Long’s neck. Though his strength was greatly diminished, he still far exceeded an ordinary man. His grip would not snap Wang Long’s neck, but it would strangle him soon enough. In no time, he could kill this staff master; the other enemies—Cheng Fu, exhausted and collapsing, and Wang Ling, weak—would be easy prey. Not to mention, there was still a professional boxer piloting the armed helicopter above, and a Hellfire missile in the rocket pod.

Wang Long’s eyes rolled back as he was trapped, tongue lolling from his mouth, his face turning purple. Even after leveling up, with base strength now at twenty-one, he couldn’t break free from the monster’s grip; Ah Kou, though weakened, was still stronger.

Just then, as the two wrestled, Wang Ling staggered to his feet. Though his mouth burned with pain and his head throbbed, the high-voltage current hadn’t killed him, and his enhanced attributes gave him the strength to move again.

His mouth still seared, his vision blurred, Wang Ling panted for breath, the taste of blood overwhelming. With a grimace, he pushed his dislocated jaw back into place, gritted his teeth, and rushed toward the two tangled men. In his hand appeared a sharp object, tinged green and flecked with red.

It was the head of the dragon spear.

Clutching the spearhead in both hands, Wang Ling gathered all his strength and drove it toward Ah Kou’s remaining eye. Both his final eye and his ears were already obscured by the blood streaming down his head—he never saw the attack coming.

With a nauseating squelch, the meteoric iron spearhead, sharp as a razor, pierced through the eyeball and deep into the brain. Wang Ling let out a hoarse, guttural scream, planting his feet and pouring every ounce of power into his arms, driving almost the entire foot-long blade into the skull.

The last sliver of Ah Kou’s life vanished instantly.

The highest-ranking dark warrior, boss of the fifth stage in Double Dragon 2, and future champion of mutated musclemen—Ah Kou—was dead.