Chapter 26: The Mysterious Long-Haired Stranger

No sooner had Kalasrenggi left the ruined hut than the youth who had been struck and kicked suddenly leapt to his feet. He strode back beneath the leaky roof, wiping rainwater and mud from his face. His clothes were smeared and filthy. He patted his left hip, still sore from Kalasrenggi’s kick.

“Damn it! That monkey’s kick really hurt!” he cursed aloud. “One of these days I’ll repay his… hospitality!”

The truth was, when Werku Alit had struck him with that deadly finger jab, the youth had already sensed the intent. Just before the blow landed, he had swiftly redirected his inner energy to his left side. Thus, when the attack struck, he deliberately collapsed and feigned unconsciousness.

The same trick saved him from Kalasrenggi’s brutal kick. Though lying face down and pretending to be senseless, he had anticipated the strike, tensed his body, and let the force pass through him—leaving only a dull ache instead of broken bones.

And so he had heard everything the two conspirators plotted. Hugging his knees, the youth sat and thought deeply.

Who were those two men? One addressed as “Raden,” the other as his subordinate. Why meet in such a desolate place, on a stormy night like this? And what of their plan—kidnapping a girl named Rara Murni? Who was she? Could they be no more than a band of rogues plotting ransom?

The youth rubbed his chin. So many questions. He resolved that when daylight came, he would seek answers in the royal capital.

By morning he had already roamed the city for hours, searching every street and corner. Yet he found no trace of the two men he had seen the night before. Finally, thirsty and hungry, he stepped into a crowded tavern. His throat burned with dryness, his belly groaned with hunger. He ordered food and ate, all the while lost in thought.

It seemed unlikely the two conspirators were common bandits. A bandit would never be addressed as Raden. No, that one must be a wealthy noble. But why would a noble seek to abduct a girl? Perhaps he had once sought her hand and been refused?

He finished his meal. Looking around, he saw the tavern was now full of lunchtime guests. With his belly satisfied, he walked to the counter, asked the price, and handed over a coin.

“Here’s your change, lad,” said the tavern keeper, an old man with a head of white hair.

“Keep it,” the youth said with a wave.

The old man blinked, astonished. So too did several nearby diners. The long-haired youth, in shabby clothes yet with a handsome face, acted like a rich man too proud to accept small change!

But curiosity soon passed and the guests returned to their meals. The youth leaned closer to the tavern keeper and lowered his voice.

“That extra coin is payment for some information, elder.”

“Information?” The old man frowned. “What kind?”

“You’ve lived in this city for how long?”

“Since I was a baby in arms until now, a great-grandfather,” the old man replied, still puzzled. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason… Perhaps you know a woman named Rara Murni?”

The question made the old man stare harder. “Everyone in Pakuan knows who Rara Murni is!”

“Ah, no wonder…”

“She is none other than the younger sister of His Majesty, Prabu Kamandaka!”

The youth was stunned. Who would have guessed that the girl those men sought to kidnap was the king’s own sister?! Yet he hid his surprise with practiced ease.

The old man narrowed his eyes. “Young man, why do you ask after the king’s sister?”

“Oh, no reason, none at all…”

“If your intentions are foul, beware. This city is filled with the king’s guards, sharp-eared and watchful!”

The youth smiled faintly. “You’re too suspicious, elder. I’m just a village boy, curious because I heard whispers that Rara Murni is a beauty beyond compare. Surely it’s not strange for a man to ask about a woman?” He chuckled, but his laughter was abruptly cut short by a harsh shout from the doorway.

“Who dares speak so lightly of the king’s sister? Turn around! Let me see your face!”

The tavern keeper trembled with fear. “I warned you… I warned you…” he muttered.

Slowly, the youth turned. At the door stood a palace guard, tall and stern, a spear in hand.

“Hah! Just as I thought. A monkey-faced brat. You’ll make a fine occupant for the royal dungeon!”

He raised his hand. Two more guards entered, spears gleaming. “Seize that long-haired youth! He has insulted the king’s sister!”

The two guards advanced.

“Wait, wait, brothers,” said the youth, raising his palms. A faint stream of energy shot forth, striking their meridian points. To the watching diners, it looked as though the guards merely halted at his polite request. In truth, both men were frozen where they stood, unable to move or speak!

“I only wish to speak,” the youth said to the guard at the door.

“Speak then! Quickly!”

At that moment, a fly landed on his arm. “Ah, this fly! Disturbing me as I try to talk!” With a flick of his finger, he sent the insect tumbling dead to the floor—but the force of that flick carried onward, striking the guard’s meridian.

The man stood stiff as a statue, though to the others he looked unchanged. The youth walked up to him, pretended to whisper something, then clapped his shoulder and walked out.

The tavern fell into puzzled silence. Only moments after the long-haired youth vanished, there came a series of heavy thuds.

Bluk! Bluk! Bluk!

All three guards collapsed to the floor, one after another. And as they struck the ground, their paralysis lifted, leaving them dazed and humiliated.

The tavern erupted in uproar. Red-faced with shame and fury, the three guards rushed outside—but the long-haired youth was already gone.

These guards, in truth, were none other than Kalasrenggi’s men. For while the youth had roamed the capital in search of clues, a pair of eyes had been watching him from the shadows—Kalasrenggi himself, biding his time before carrying out Werku Alit’s orders.

When the youth entered the tavern, Kalasrenggi dispatched three of his soldiers to arrest him under false charges, planning to interrogate him later once his own mission was complete. The men had eavesdropped on the youth’s questions to the tavern keeper and used it as their excuse.

But against the strange young man’s inner power, their crude strength was laughable. In the end, they were nothing more than playthings for the long-haired stranger’s tricks.