Chapter 11 · Old Xu's Breathing Trick

Chen couldn't feel his right hand anymore. The black metal had crawled past his wrist and locked up his elbow. He could see it moving under the skin, thin lines branching like roots.

Old Xu grabbed his left arm and dragged him through the crowd. People were still screaming about the hole in the ring floor. Someone shoved a phone in Chen's face. He swatted it away and the screen cracked against the concrete.

"Move." Old Xu's voice was flat. He didn't look back.

Chen stumbled after him. His legs worked but his right arm hung dead at his side. The crowd thinned out past the loading docks. Old Xu pulled him into an alley between two storage containers and let go.

Chen sagged against the rust-streaked metal. His breath came too fast. The black lines were still spreading. He could see them under the streetlight, thin and sharp like cracks in glass.

"You got about ten minutes." Old Xu lit a cigarette. His hands weren't shaking. "Then it hits your shoulder and you're done."

"Done how."

"You turn into something that isn't you." Old Xu blew smoke sideways. "I've seen it twice.