Here is the preview and make no mistake I'm doing this in the hopes that my story will be liked. The story is called the Bamboo Road.
In a simple bank a brown haired teller looked up from his business and was facing a gun barrel.
The bandit and his six accomplices had black ski masks on and guns aimed at his colleagues. Hastily the brown haired teller and his fellows obeyed and took money out from their drawers. But before a single note could be taken one of the bandits fell to the floor.
Their companion’s cry roused the attention of his fellow bandits. All six standing criminals saw a man in a cloak wearing a Conical Asian Hat that covered his eyes. In the man’s right hand was a sword still in its scabbard that was most likely responsible for defeating one of the robbers. All six fired on him but, they felt a gust of wind and saw on the floor that their bullets were cleanly sliced in half yet the sword was not unsheathed! Half-terrified, half-angry they pulled the triggers on their guns furiously only for the guns to slide off their handles.
With the speed and unpredictability of a hurricane the swordsman swung his blade. Each move that would have been fatal had the blade been drawn struck the remaining bandits unconscious. One of the still conscious bandits tried to flee, only for the cloaked man to appear in front of him like a ghost. The swordsman raised his blade; the bandit looked away expecting to die but saw on the ground his mask was shredded to pieces.
The stranger bended down towards the frightened bandit and whispered into his ear, “Where are your masters?”
Before he could say a word the door burst open swarms of police constables with their weapons drawn flooded the scene.
“In the name of the law you are under arrest!” declared the inspector in charge. “And this time there’s no way you can simply…”
Suddenly winds with the strength of a storm exploded through the bank and when the winds died down everyone in the bank was on the floor had their hair blown apart and the constable’s guns were sliced in half. The auburn haired inspector looked up and saw…
“He’s gone! Secure the building! Search outside he can’t have gotten too far! Find him! We can’t let that murderer escape again!”
“But Inspector Smith what about the bank robbers?” asked a thin constable.
At those words Inspector Smith felt his anger puncture “Oh, then you and you will take them away the rest will secure the building and find that man!”
“Sir how do we know it was him?” asked a blond female constable.
“We’ve seen the proof what more do we need Constable Rains!” shouted the inspector. “Now find him! Search everywhere from the toilets to the broom closets! Find witnesses! Leave no stone unturned!”
As they carried out the order, the constables searched the place up and down, questioned people outside the street but all results were zero.
“He’s not here? I should have expected this since he’s the one who’s made me and the whole of Scotland Yard into a laughing stock,” griped Inspector Smith as he exited the bank.
While everyone cleared out of the scene, Rains remained behind, gazing at the spot the swordsman disappeared from. As her thoughts flowed she could not help but wonder even though he was reported to have killed the business man Edmund Zhao why would he even save people? Was it to repent for his sin? If that was not the reason what is the truth about this man Kongcheng? Did he kill Zhao because he knew something about him? Or maybe Kongcheng did not even do it at all? Who knows the truth behind this possible lie?
As Kongcheng stood on top of the mighty Big Ben gazing into the distance, he was pondering deep questions, “Fengzi, I have searched this world. It is a unique one where chariots have become horseless, ships need no wind to move, Qinggong is not needed for flight, the chance to gain prosperity and wealth is not sorely for born-rich merchants, and messages do not require one to walk nor use birds to deliver them. It is not very impressive and corruption is rampant but there is peace here. Where is this uprising I must fight? Should I just leave?” wondered Kongcheng, “No, forgive me. I know must press on and why you told me nothing.”
With that, Kongcheng leaped off the tower and landed on top of another roof. As he began jumping from one building to the next building, there was all but one thought in his mind. No matter how many corrupt men he must fight and how much society calls him a bandit – a criminal, he will hold his head up high and be proud, Proud of what he is an outlaw, a hero.