“Yo, Chu Chu, I’m out,” said Derrick as he exited Coleman skatepark. As the desolate Chinatown streets consumed Derrick, Chu Chu sighed. He finally had an opportunity to enjoy the solitude of the park. Oblivious to death that lingered, the luminance of streetlights provided him with celebrity. Here, he was a king.

Imaginary crowds and cameras embraced him. As he thought on glory, the warnings from his grandmother faded. There was something she said about two young black men getting killed in Chinatown recently. Something about them being strangled. Something about them coincidentally having skateboards. Some shit like that.

But Chu Chu was in his head, full of fame, young, black and full of power. Here, he was no longer a failure in high school. Here he was no longer living in the projects, sharing a twin sized bed with his cousin. Here, Chu Chu was king.

As he embraced fame two leather gloves, furiously grasped his neck. Chu Chu fell to his knees and tried to make out the face standing above him. There was long black hair that covered a menacing scowl and teeth that glimmered with hatred.

He tried to resist and pounded furiously on the assassin’s forearms as the grip increased.

The assassin, Mr. Shi, he had been recruited by the Jai family and told to remedy a lingering problem. When he took the assignment, he reasoned that it was simple. His target was black, lived in Chinatown, carried a skateboard and used kung fu. How many people fit that profile? He’d kill and kill some more. The problem would be eliminated or forced to leave Chinatown. Either way, the problem would soon be over.

Chu Chu stopped struggling, and Mr. Shi knew that it would only be a few more seconds. He increased his grip.

Masternever sprung from the darkness and laid into Mr. Shi with a fierce punch that hurled the assassin to the ground.

Chu Chu grasped for air, and Masternever kneeled next to him.

“Hey man, are you okay?”

Chu Chu, tearfully looked into Masternever’s face, weeping heavily. Masternever helped him to his feet.

“You better leave.”

Although he was in great pain, fear guided Chu Chu and led him out of the park. As he exited, he winced and grasped his neck. He looked back on the person who saved him. Did he know him? He didn’t recognize him. His hat, hoodie, and skateboard were foreign. It didn’t matter. He inhaled and took flight.

Masternever turned towards Mr. Shi, who was on his knees, shaking his head, trying to gather his composure. The streets and walls had delivered messages to Masternever. There was something about a bounty, a price on his head. Something about an assassin who had killed two young black men in Chinatown. Something about an assassin with glimmering teeth. Masternever realized that he had to stop this something and as he arrived at the skatepark that evening, he realized he had found the something he’d been after.

He walked towards the assassin, fists clenched, with a taste of blood. Mr. Shi managed to get to his feet, with the assistance of a nearby wall. He saw Masternever’s shadow on the ground. He turned and hurled several poison blades.

Using the Fist of Wind technique, Masternever vanished and averted the blades. He reappeared in front of Mr. Shi grasping the assassin by the throat.

“He’s the devil I’ve been looking for. He’s powerful.” Mr. Shi thought

The assassin who delighted in strangling his victims, now, he found himself receiving the very torture he inflicted on many others. Mr. Shi grimaced and in his eyes, Masternever could see the reflection of his victims.

Masternever squeezed harder and as he did, he was plagued by the visions of men whom he had killed. He saw their bodies slump and fall. He saw their heads turn, their heads snap, their skulls break. He was tired of creating death. Something in him, something told Masternever to release Mr. Shi.

But something reminded him of Mr. Shi’s victims. That something provoked Masternever to embrace the very thing he despised. At that moment, Masternever had to be evil. He had to stop a menace. He killed again to stop evil.

The assassin slumped to the ground and Masternever stepped back, breathing heavily. There was no satisfaction, but relief. As he rode out of the skatepark, he stopped at the entrance. He looked at the body laying on the ground, consumed by the emptiness of the park.

He thought how nice it would be if he could just come to the park to practice. He was in his head and he thought on how wonderful it would be to be a professional skater. He saw himself performing tricks and a crowd that celebrated him. A dusty truck with a broken exhaust passed the park and brought him back to reality.

He skated into the darkness, and as the Chinatown streets consumed him, he realized that he was nothing more than a killer.