Korean? Japanese?

"Bad call." "What is it?" "I thought this Chinese restaurant was pretty authentic." "It wasn't? I thought it tasted great." "No, it feels more like a Chinese restaurant run by Southeast Asians." Walking down the street, Qi Li complained to Kate. What was more, as they walked along, he noticed that Chinatown in New York was far weirder than the one back in Los Angeles. Not only were there many Asians on the street who clearly didn't look Chinese, but there were also those who were indeed of Chinese descent, yet looked straight out of some bizarre specimen display. Take the guy ahead, for instance: sporting an absurd half-shaved head with a long queue trailing behind him. And then there was his face—an extraordinarily grotesque kind of ugly. It was as if every hideous gene from all his ancestors across eras had converged onto his face alone. Yet the man seemed blissfully oblivious. Instead, he carried himself with an air of supreme nobility, deliberately furrowing his brow into a haughty crease, casually strolling down the street while dangling a birdcage in hand. Until he noticed Qi Li and Kate. To be precise, his eyes lingered again and again on Kate, an undeniably blonde, white woman snuggled affectionately against Qi Li's side. At first, he froze, as though doubting his own eyesight. Then sheer disbelief washed over his face, quickly morphing into impotent fury as he muttered under his breath, "How is that possible?" and "What gives him the right?" Qi Li only found it amusing. He tilted his head and—purely out of spite—leaned down to kiss Kate. Kate was even more enthusiastic, immediately rising onto her tiptoes and meeting him with her luscious red lips. The man with the queue stood struck dumb, his long-sheltered worldview utterly shattered. To destroy someone, you had to crush their spirit first. Qi Li had originally intended to thoroughly tear into this clown who claimed to represent authentic Chinese heritage, yet in looks, temperament, stature, and substance had completely disgraced the Chinese people. Suddenly! Terrified screams erupted down the street. "Murder!" "The boss is dead!" "So much blood! Help!" Qi Li pulled back from Kate's lips and immediately looked toward the screams. Almost the instant he turned his head, a barefoot Asian woman with disheveled hair, her clothes soaked in fresh blood, burst into his line of sight. She bolted like mad, clipping right past the dazed man with the queue. With a startled cry, the man tumbled backward onto the ground. And, as luck would have it, his meticulously maintained queue tangled around the woman's ankle. With a violent yank, the woman tore the braid clean off. The man immediately let out an even shriller shriek of agony. Ignoring him, the woman cast a tense, anxious glance at the surrounding crowd before continuing her frantic sprint at a speed far beyond that of an ordinary human. "A superhuman?" Qi Li locked his eyes firmly onto the Asian woman's retreating figure. He shot Kate a look, and in a blur, accelerated forward like a speeding car, rushing in pursuit. "It's Bronze!" "A superhero is here!" "Awesome! He's here, we're safe!" Qi Li's sudden move naturally caught the attention of the surrounding pedestrians, who instantly recognized him and cried out in delighted surprise. Just as a single rat dropping could ruin a pot of porridge, a tiny defect was often far more conspicuous. While there were indeed some cracked individuals among the Chinese community, the majority were sensible people after all. And toward Bronze, they were thoroughly devoted fans. Whoosh— A gust of wind howled. Kimiko scrambled on all fours, sprinting frantically through the alleys while constantly glancing back over her shoulder. Qi Li was closing in at terrifying speed. The distance between them shrank rapidly. Kimiko darted a quick look left and right, gritted her teeth, made a sharp turn, and ducked into hiding. A few moments later, Qi Li arrived at the corner. Seeing nobody ahead and finding none of the usual traces left behind by high-speed running, he stopped immediately, about to examine his surroundings closely. Bang! Suddenly, the pile of discarded cardboard boxes to Qi Li's left burst apart, and Kimiko lunged out with a feral glare. Reaching Qi Li, she drove off her legs and leaped airborne, her ten razor-sharp claws clawing viciously toward his head. Qi Li didn't even bat an eye; he simply thrust out his left hand. The whistling wind died instantly. In a single blink. Qi Li's palm locked onto Kimiko's throat. It was as if she had delivered herself right into his grip. Before Kimiko could even process what had happened, her throat clamped shut violently, and she found herself hoisted into the air. She struggled frantically, her ten claws—sharp enough to pierce through a human skull—clawing wildly at Qi Li's arm, yet unable to break even a sliver of skin. Yet no matter how hard she exerted herself, the hand around her neck remained like a welded iron clamp, unyielding in the slightest. Soon, the whites of Kimiko's eyes rolled up. Qi Li eased his grip slightly, granting her a brief moment to catch her breath. Shifting his gaze, he examined Kimiko's face and asked in a flat tone, "Korean? Japanese?" In any case, she was almost certainly not Chinese; her demeanor didn't fit at all. Kimiko didn't answer—or rather, couldn't. Yet her eyes and expression were enough of an answer. "Oh, Japanese," Qi Li said casually. A flicker of hope surfaced on Kimiko's face, wishing Qi Li would spare her. And then, Crack. Qi Li snapped Kimiko's neck. Afterward, Like tossing out trash, Qi Li casually threw Kimiko onto the ground. He turned toward Kate, who had already caught up and was filming with her phone, and reminded her, "Remember to bleep out my last line." Holding the camera steadily on him with one hand, Kate gave an "OK" sign with the other. Yet in the next instant, Qi Li suddenly realized something was amiss. The feedback of power that came from killing a superhuman hadn't appeared. He abruptly whirled back around. Kate let out a gasp of shock at that very moment. Kimiko, whose neck should have been broken, had suddenly pushed herself upright, completely unharmed. Standing right in front of Qi Li with fierce indignation, she thrust both hands straight toward his chest. Not wanting the shirt he had bought just days ago to be ruined, Qi Li pulled back his right foot to widen the distance, dodging the thrust. Before Kimiko could retract her hands, his hands shot forward like lightning, clamping onto her wrists. Tensing his arms, Qi Li exerted violent force. Riiip! Both of Kimiko's forearms, torn cleanly from the elbows down, were ripped off along with skin, flesh, and bone. In an instant, two high-pressure geysers of blood jetted out. Qi Li stepped back, letting the scalding blood splatter across the ground. "Holy shit!" Kate hastily paused the recording, realizing that releasing footage this intense would be terrible for Qi Li's public image. Reluctant as she was to admit it, Qi Li held the highest approval rating among American women aged sixteen to thirty-five. For them, watching Qi Li thrash Derek was perfectly fine, but with a gruesome bloodbath like this, hardly any of them would have the stomach to watch to the end.