Zhang Shen

○ Name: Arata(False) ○ True Name: Zhang Shen ○ Alias: Rising Dragon ○ Age:23 ○ Birthday:September 30, 2391 ○ Gender: Male ○ Race: Human ○ Affiliation: N/A ○ Marital Status: Single ○ Nationality: Chinese ○ Religious Standing: N/A ○ Sexual Orientation: Bisexual ○ Height: 5'9 ○ Hair Colour: Black ○ Eye Colour: Blue

Wave The Flag of Rebellion: Zhang, or as he prefers to be called - Arata - is a rebellious spirit affiliated with no one but himself. A man who would rather die than be a slave to the chains of fate or what others call destiny. Jaded by his past and the man who raised him, Zhang always challenges the status quo and rarely ever follows anyone’s rules if it doesn’t serve any benefit to him.

Aware that such a rebellious streak is why he is where he is now - with no direction - Zhang seemingly comes off as a stubborn fool who doesn’t deserve guidance. He is no saint, and by his own admission, he is a born sinner with a past that reeks of sin and indulgence.

Zhang doesn’t particularly make any excuses for that and would never admit that rebelling against his past is often the obstacle between moving forward and remaining where he is right now. He covets a world where he can embrace his future but his past has always been his main opponent, an enemy he has not yet overcome.

This is often unfortunate, for, at his best, he is quite a prodigy in battlefield tactics, and more often than not, given his training and his upbringing as a martial artist, he can exploit the enemy with immense skill and deductive reasoning. When his mind is not clouded with anger or foolish rebellion, Zhang is capable of achieving great things. He knows this. He knows of his potential, of something great but until then, he remains as a renegade with no direction in life and no purpose to speak of.


Kind-Hearted: Though one would expect him to be the opposite of a social butterfly, given his rebellious spirit, Zhang is, in fact, quite sociable. He may appear to be incredibly selfish but in reality, he is a very generous man who would give his shirt and pants to the homeless if asked to.

He welcomes interacting with others, especially those who wish to befriend him. In his mind, he believes he is undeserving of friendship, of romance, of almost most of the things others revere in their own lives. He doesn’t believe that out of some misguided idea that he’s cursed but more so, he tends to feel this way due to his own past. He has a long list of actions he’s committed he’s not proud of but tries to move past them in his own way.

Even though he may not be the type who would openly throw his life away, he has no qualms of throwing his body and soul on the line for those he cares for. He will never allow those he cares for to be hurt by anybody. Every single person he feels affection or love towards will always be an inseparable friend. From a young age, Zhang was taught that he should use his skills to save the lives of others, to leave an impact on the next great warrior.

He is well aware of the fact that he was not born as some vicious soul who was cursed by humanity nor was he abused during his childhood. He has no vendetta against the world and actually welcomes the idea of living a life he can be proud of. With the little money that he does earn, he will buy food for orphanages or treat those who no longer possess a home to a feast. Friendship means a lot to Zhang and though he may rarely show it, he has a heart of gold beneath his tough exterior.


Prideful: Zhang is prideful to a fault. He is a very competitive man and the idea of losing to someone else he views as a rival can be seen as a stain on his pride.

His willpower is something to be amazed by, as he always remains stalwart no matter how many times he’s been beaten or defeated in battle. If he lost today, he would come back tomorrow and face that same opponent until he defeated them and take pride in that one victory.

Childish though it may be, that’s the way Zhang operates. If someone smashes his face in the ground a thousand times or breaks his bones in multiple directions, he might shed a tear. He might even fucking cry a little bit... but god be damned, he won’t back down. He’ll keep coming back until he has improved on his own skills enough to take that person down. He’s simply not wired to give up and there is a relentless dog in him that won’t take defeat without getting a good punch in to sate his own foolish pride as a man.


Flirtatiously noncommittal: Even though he has made some form of one effort or another to exercise this facet from his personality, Zhang is an incorrigible flirt. Some would even go as far as to say he’s a pervert. Quite simply, without shame, he adores the female form, and by extension, those who parade in the female form.

He hides nothing about who he is and when someone catches his eye, he may pursue them with the sole purpose of physical gratification. He doesn’t enjoy the idea of being emotionally attached which may sound terrible - but if one were to delve further - they would discover that Zhang feels as if he doesn’t deserve true love or a loving relationship.

This makes his aim of pursuing or flirting with others hypocritical, selfish even. To aim for the promise of physical satisfaction without accepting romantic affection. He does believe he is a bastard for this but given his track record and the list of people he’s hurt already, Zhang doesn’t particularly think he’s wrong. If they both enjoyed what happened, then there shouldn’t be any complaints, right? He has convinced himself that he does not deserve true love but when it comes to their body? Well, boys will be boys tends to be his primary excuse.






Arata’s origins - or better yet - Zhang Shen’s origins can be traced back to his homeland of China. Born to a human mother of Japanese origin and a Tao Chi father who reigned over one of the many branch families of the Tsu Clan, one could say that Zhang was destined for greatness.

His father(Gen) was the patriarch of a special line of martial artists while his mother(Chie) was, as with most wives married to men of high rank or mystic lineage, submissive and respectful of her husband’s views and the way their son would be raised. Of course, Gen always knew he'd have to train Zhang harder given the fact he wasn't born from two cultivators. Some could say such a fact would lead to the man's eventual fallout with his son... but let us continue our tale.

Greatness always came at a price, however, and his tale was no different. Naturally, Zhang had gravitated towards his father, viewing his martial prowess as something that only existed in the tales of Chinese mythology he would read out of sheer curiosity.

It was a fine gift, then, to be blessed with a daughter - Xiaoli. She rarely interfered with Zhang’s training and spent most of her days with her mother.

His admiration for his father was something his mother welcomed with open arms, though she hardly possessed a place to voice displeasure even if she disagreed with her husband. That had never been a particular source of discomfort, however.

Zhang was destined to be legendary, meant to inherit his father’s martial prowess and lead their clan towards far greater heights. Gen was, by his own admission, always very warm with his son and daughter during their years of infancy.

He was the genuine article of a well-meaning father. Even in his childhood, when Zhang reached an age where he could participate in minor training regimens, Gen eased him into everything to ensure his development was as natural as the young boy desired.

Still, belonging to a branch family of the Tsu Clan was like having a cloud that always hung over the father’s head, and in time, it eventually turned him into a zealous spirit of a man whose heart lost sight of the compassion it took to raise a young man, even if that young man possessed all the potential in the world to succeed him.

Zhang possessed all the attributes of a fine warrior and signs of those attributes would eventually reveal themselves with the increased difficulty of his training. Tao Chi was very demanding, but to Zhang, it was something he came to take pride in, eager to surpass his father, inherit a piece of his power, and show him that he was a man he could be proud of.

Their training was taxing, however, and there were many times where he was not allowed to rest in his mother’s arms or enjoy home-cooked meals. In fact, from the day his training began, he had grown distant from his mother. He truly loved his mother but as his training increased, the time spent with her decreased.

As a result, he became somewhat hardened and hardly knew what it meant to feel a “mother’s touch.” Did he lament such a fact? Of course not. To him, this was the path he chose from the moment he was born. To be legendary, sacrifices were a necessary stepping stone to a divine path.

As such, it came as no surprise that when Zhang reached the age of fourteen - viewed as a prodigy by most of the members of the family - he hardly batted an eye when he caught wind of his mother falling ill.

The cause of her illness was cancer. Lacking any of the supernatural talents possessed by other warriors - let alone humans who practice the art of Tao Chi - her time was not long for this world. Zealous man or not, this tormented Gen’s heart.

His beloved wife was dying and he could not properly cope with a way of managing his duties as a patriarch and a supportive husband. He should have spent more time with her, to give her a sense of peace in her final days, but the pressure of impressing the renowned Queen of Wulin robbed him of some of his empathy as a man and that seemed to unintentionally rub off on Zhang as well. Still, someone had to spend their days with her and Xiaoli was a willing candidate, even though it pained her as a child to see how distant her father and brother had grown from her and her mother. His mother managed to live two more years before she passed away.

Her death came as a surprise to no one, but Zhang still shed tears at her deathbed and her funeral. His sister was a mess emotionally and he could not properly console her as well as he wished he could. He did not possess the ability to console anyone. He wanted to. He wanted nothing else but to shower his sister in affection and tell her everything would be okay but such a function seemed lost on him.

His father’s training and all that it demanded had turned him into a young man whose sense of empathy was almost nonexistent. He struggled with wanting to lament as any young man should at the death of his mother but the true tragedy - in his eyes - would be missteps or a lack of concentration in his training.

Gen took her death the hardest and shamelessly cried in secret, away from the eyes of his children. He wanted to remain strong in the eyes of the family but no man, unless he was truly heartless, could escape the pain of a loved one. Chie was his wife and supported him even though she found his actions disagreeable at times. To honor her memory, he had turned the day of her death into a day of tribute and celebration. She would have done the same for him.


In time, the weight of sadness was no longer as heavy as it once seemed. Even so, the cloud of raising Zhang into a warrior worthy of inheriting his position as patriarch - his martial prowess, his technique, and all that defined Lao Gen - was akin to an anchor over the man’s shoulders. He was not allowed to lament for long and neither was Zhang. Xiaoli would spend her time away from the two men, electing to train with the female members of the clan. She was not a particularly fine warrior at first but anything to distract her from the pain of her mother’s death was very much welcomed.


The next four years would see tremendous growth in Zhang’s development as he rose through the ranks. He could fight and defeat most of the male members of their respective branch family and in time, he became his father’s equal, defeating him a few times along the way. By this point, he was considered ready in the eyes of his father. Even though he was eighteen, he was confident in Zhang’s ability to carry this family into the next generation. He would have his sister’s support, his family’s support, and the support of his father.

His best-laid plans, of course, did not go as well as he had hoped. Zhang, though he was still very much respectful to his father, grew somewhat jaded by the years of training and the toll it took on his mind. Whereas he once earned the praise and awe of his father, he would be ridiculed or even insulted if he performed poorly or suffered a misstep.

His father became harsh, as a madman’s zeal overtook him, and he increased his son’s workload and training. It grew to a point where he couldn’t even spend a proper day of time with his sister and that… created a divide between the two men.


A divide that neither noticed until it was too late. In time, due to his talent and the universal belief within the family that Zhang was the unequivocal heir - to say nothing of his prodigal skill and burgeoning martial prowess - Zhang grew to be something of a jaded spirit who was often rebellious and even arrogant at times.

He didn’t let that slow him down, however. Arrogant though he was now, his aim was to succeed his father and step into his greatness. He would fight with anyone who challenged him and challenged others on a whim to test his skill.

Eventually, this would lead to a dispute between him and his father and for a month, as a way of disciplining him, he banned the young man from being able to train in any capacity until he humbled himself. If he could not be respectful to the lineage of the Tsu Clan, he would live life as a meager civilian.

Initially, the one month spent being unable to train or hone his technique was something akin to hell for the young man but in his time away, he would meet and fall in love with a woman in his hometown - Hao Li. Their first meeting was a disaster, truth be told.

He bumped into her during a day where his mood was really poor, and ignored her without giving the young lady a proper “excuse me.” She held him accountable for it and absolutely leveled him. A practitioner of Tao Chi herself, Li was well aware of who Zhang was but that didn’t give him any right to act like an asshole. She adamantly pointed that out to him and walked off.


Surprisingly, Zhang developed an infatuation with the aspiring martial artist and though he hardly knew how romance worked, he made it his goal to earn her favor and start over on a good note. His first ten attempts at doing so failed miserably. He was terrible at courting a woman and Li humorously took note of each of his failures. One day he simply gave in to his pride and genuinely confessed that he felt something for her. He was not a man who could truly understand how many people felt - a result of the way he was raised - but he knew that his feelings for her were genuine.

Li accepted his confession, and for the rest of that month away from his father, Zhang had finally experienced what it felt like to love and to be loved. He finally knew what it felt like to be handled with care, to be emotional, to experience an adventure. He had even experienced what it felt like to make love. He savored every moment of these magical emotions that captured his heart. The month they spent together was something akin to a fairytale and he knew he would not be returning to his father the same man as he was before.

In fact, when he returned, he had shocked his father and sister with an immediate request to marry Hao Li as soon as possible. Both of them were of age and his father had already had plans on allowing Zhang to eventually inherit all that he owned. Why waste time? Xiaoli was highly supportive of the engagement, excited to see her brother engaging in something other than the training and inheritance their father put so much emphasis on. Gen, on the other hand, had his doubts.

Zhang was eighteen and he was still very much young, with signs of immaturity that were readily apparent. Was he truly ready to be a husband? A father? Was this a suitable path? What would Chie have said? He struggled between his son’s happiness and the pride of their clan and… he cruelly chose the latter. He had rejected his son’s request without hesitation. More than that, he forbade Zhang even engage in a relationship with her at this time. Hao Li was not the type of woman he found suitable, even though Zhang could’ve clearly improved with another fellow martial artist at his side. He was destined for a path and his father would not, could not allow her to be a distraction.

Truth be told…

If their current relationship could be called a divide, it was a malignant abyss now. Gen had removed any form of communication Zhang could manage with his lover and eventually, Hao li, disheartened, stopped contacting him altogether. In the days that followed, Zhang had grown antagonistic towards both his sister and his father. He rarely ever approached Xiaoli and on his final night living within the clan’s corridors, he fought his own father until he had severely injured the man, stopping only when Xiaoli screamed for him to stop, with tears in her eyes. He looked around, gazing at the eyes of the other clan members who witnessed his moment of carnage.

He looked like a monster.

And the best exit for a monster was to step down from all that he was destined to be, of the godforsaken path and pedestal his father had propped him up on so many times--even at the cost of their relationship. When Xiaoli had fallen asleep at the side of her father’s hospital bed, Zhang wrote her a letter of apology, leaving the letter beside her. He returned to his home that night, packing a few articles of clothing, his allowance, and a few of the meals Xiaoli always enjoyed cooking for him in his moments of respite. He took one last glance at the home he grew up in, as a small tear fell from his eye.

“Bastard. Couldn’t even give me one moment of happiness for the hell I endured in this shithole.”


Those were the last words he had uttered in his homeland of China. Through his own ingenuity, he had found a boat with enough resources to allow him to travel the seas. He wondered where he’d go. North America? Africa? Japan? What place would he call his new home? He was his own man now, after all.

The only things left to his name was a moderate set of cash, that unfortunately, depending on where he went, might not be suitable for his location of choice - and a few meals to hold him over during his journey. He had decided he would go to his mother’s homeland of Japan. Of course, he’d need a name to fit in in order to avoid the watchful eye of his father if he sent men after him to find him. His mother always said that had her husband let her choose the name, she would’ve warmly named him Arata. He liked the sound of that. Zhang had too much bad blood centered around it.


It would be a long journey, certainly, but anything was better than enduring the hell he endured under his father, even for a second more. The path to Japan was an arduous one but he had made it. The only issue, now, however, is that he had run out of food due to his demanding appetite and he had lost his money during a bad storm. What would he do now? He wondered. Well, he learned that in his first day in Japan, he was a ravishingly handsome young man with a strong, athletic build.

The right woman might feel sorry for him and let him live with them for a time or maybe he’d use a sympathetic tale to convince an older woman to take him in. During his first year in Japan, that was how Arata managed to live somewhat successfully. He’d engage in relationships with women he viewed as lonely and in need of a man’s affections. It kept him fed for some time but it was not a sustainable way of life. He had developed a reputation within the city he was in and eventually had to move to a different one. He was homeless again. He felt terrible that he could never commit to the women he deceived but he had not properly learned how to live in this country. Maybe, he felt, he’d deserved this. Would he die? He’d wondered. To go from such lofty heights to living like a stray dog felt like a morbidly humorous joke - except for the fact that everyone was laughing but him.

However, a blessing would come in the form of something he would’ve never expected to find himself a member of. The city he had entered this time was one watched over by a yakuza family. An older man had seen him sleeping on the bags and simply asked him one question; “Do you want a warm bed to sleep in and a good meal to eat without anyone having eaten half of it before they threw it away?” It was asked in such a casual manner but the man was genuinely serious from the look in his eyes. Arata nodded fervently and grabbed the man’s hand as he rose up from the ground.


From that moment forward, his life had finally changed for the better. He enjoyed warm meals and a warm bed, without worrying about the next place he’d sleep. Masamune - the man who took him in - was a man in his early forties who had experienced the highs and lows of life and saw a lot of himself in the young man. He heard of his salacious reputation in the last city but allowed Arata to explain everything.


The young man explained how his real name was Zhang Shen, how he got here, and how he did his best to survive in a new country. Masamune chuckled and reminded him that though certain people were cautious in Japan, if he went about it in the right way, he would find people who would welcome him in without having to resort to deception. In return for promising to never play with another woman’s feelings during his time in Japan, he would let Arata experience a life that was more proactive.


Arata did not hesitate even for a second and promised the man he’d turn over a new leaf - he defied the man’s expectations. He protected his wife and his daughters, serving as a makeshift bodyguard while he watched Masamune conduct his daily activities as a member of the Yakuza. Arata admired Masamune’s line of work and the way he carried himself. Even without officially joining Masamune’s clan, Arata had proclaimed that he was a member of his clan due to his admiration of the older man. This would prove troublesome, however, as, during his time on duty being a bodyguard to the family, he ended up in a quarrel with a member of the neighboring clan in the city.

His martial prowess had allowed him to handle the man rather easily but he didn’t expect his actions to lead him to something slightly more dangerous than he intended. Due to the way he embarrassed the man in question, he had left Masamune with some unnecessary heat on his shoulders. The Patriarch from the neighboring family had approached him and Masamune.


Expecting that Masamune would be punished for it, Arata stood between the patriarch and his men, kneeling before him. He admitted that he was the one who was in the wrong and Masamune was innocent. He explained that Masamune had taken him in, that he had rescued him away from a life of suffering on the streets, and if anyone should be punished, it should be him.

The Patriarch had accepted his apology but noted that the pride of his men was still bruised and beating him up would likely be the only way to keep them at bay. And so, Arata took his lumps, withstanding a full beatdown by the group of men.

Still, the patriarch of the neighboring family took note of the potential Arata possessed and the fact that he was a Tao Chi human. He also admired how he was willing to let himself be punished or even possibly killed for his mistake. He coveted that selflessness among his men and the very next week, he had called Masamune in to request that Arata became an official member of their family. By now, Masamune had viewed Arata as his son and he needed time to think about his decision.

He presented the offer to Arata and without so much as an ounce of hesitation, Arata accepted the offer he’d been given. He saw it as an opportunity to make Masamune proud and to repay him for everything he gave him. Arata had moved out within a week, arriving at the new base of operations. It is here where he would cross paths with a man known as Vanyel Xiaoyang. To tell the truth, their first few times spent together were a disaster.


Neither of them particularly liked the other. Vanyel thought Arata was a boneheaded idiot and Arata felt like Vanyel was the emperor of all assholes. It was only when one of them - Arata - decided to be vulnerable and explain his reason for joining their clan that Vanyel decided to ease up and eventually befriend the young man.

The two had, over time, developed such a strong friendship that either one would gladly takedown or strike anyone that tried to harm the other or speak ill of them. If someone disrespected Vanyel in Arata’s presence, even if he ended up suffering a humiliating defeat, he’d always make damn sure that individual would never do it again.

The next four years were truly wonderful, dreamlike even. Arata had never overstepped his boundaries since his initial run-in with the patriarch and he followed the rules. Of course, as a result of his desire for acceptance - something he likely picked up from the first city he lived in - he never wasted time indulging in alcohol whenever the patriarch treated them to a few rounds of drinks.

He would always be the one who consumed the most and then boldly proclaim how many women he would sleep with that night. It was often a source of humor as it annoyed Vanyel and made the other members laugh. Arata was that type of man. He wasn’t Zhang - not a man who had to be cold-hearted and emotionless - but Arata, a man who enjoyed the flavors of life and did well by his fellow men.


Like the romance he shared with Hao Li, he once again experienced happiness that words could not describe. It was a paradise. He had a sworn brother, a group of men who believed in him, and a patriarch who valued him as a man. He felt as if this would be his happily ever after; He would marry a woman, settle down, have children, and be someone Masamune could be proud of. And yet, he would end up losing everything, just as he did a few years ago. It was almost comical - how the tragic chain of events followed.

The first tragic event happened when he caught wind of Masamune’s death. The man he viewed as a father had died in a car accident. Arata could not believe it. He didn’t want to. When Masamune’s wife notified him on the phone, he was practically disillusioned with reality.

After the dire reality had finally set in, Arata grew distant from everyone - Vanyel included. Worse yet, he developed an addiction to alcohol. It developed to such a point that he would often come in late, be entirely unresponsive to the other members, and even keep his distance from Vanyel. It was hard to reach him. Truth be told, nothing in life felt good anymore.

Even when he returned, the downward spiral would continue with his discovery that some of the clan members were selling drugs as a way of earning extra profit. Vanyel had always warned Arata that this practice was not particularly favored by the patriarch.

He valued the patriarch’s opinion more than anyone else, viewing the man as a third father he could go to whenever he needed advice - and yet, he welcomed the opportunity to make money, yet this time the desire to do so was rooted in selfish gain and the desire to submerge himself within a pool of debauchery.

And submerge he did. He was able to borrow drug inventory from one of the members and wasted no time in selling it and indulging in it. The drugs and alcohol felt good. Burying his pain felt good. Why be proactive with life when all it gave him was bullshit?

He would frequent strip clubs, sleep with multiple women and even a few effeminate men, and anything else he could think of. He would even sell drugs to the people he slept with. His clients were his favorites. His spirit was filled with a lofty arrogance as he felt godlike. He reveled in his sin.

When news of his exploits reached Vanyel’s ears, the man found Arata at a house he had rented for himself and admonished the young man, demanding that he put an end to the distribution of drugs and anyone else he was connected with. He warned him that due to the standing their clan held, anyone could be aiming to take them down and that he was an easy target.

Arata seemingly ignored him and that angered Vanyel to the point that the two men engaged in a brutal fight. It had escalated to such a point that Vanyel had left Arata on the verge of death, the raven-haired young man nearly choking on his own blood. The fight only ended when one of their fellow members pulled them away from the other. Arata felt that familiar feeling again.

Monster.

He didn’t even register the pain he felt from the loss of a few teeth, bruised eyes, a bloodied nose, and a throat filled with blood. The member had taken Vanyel away and simply told Arata he was not allowed to come back until he got himself together.

Most men would have taken that as a sign to change but Arata foolishly continued to indulge in drugs, liquor, and the touch of anyone looking for a good time. He had tunnel-vision. He couldn’t see how Vanyel or everyone else was trying to help him and by the time he realized everything, it was too late.

The very next month, the clan had fallen apart. The patriarch and his men were being carried off by police officers. Arata could not believe his eyes. The men who had raised him(in a sense) were being arrested. They had been set up by a rival clan who cooperated with the police.


“No. No. No. No. No. They didn’t do anything wrong. Take me. Take me. TAKE M-” Before he could yell that out towards the officers, Vanyel had covered Arata’s mouth, forcing him to remain silent.

Arata tried to struggle, to break free and turn himself in but to no avail. He watched as the man he viewed as a father figure was placed into the vehicle along with other men who had helped him.

He turned to Vanyel with tears in his eyes as he cursed so loud that his throat nearly broke. Vanyel said nothing. His expression was one of shocked silence as he held Arata’s gaze. Taking it as a sign that he was ashamed of him, Arata ran off never to be seen in that city again.


He caught the fastest train to another part of Japan and fell into a deeper depression than the one he had before. He continued to indulge in the remaining drugs he did have and wasted his money away on anything from prostitutes to recklessly giving his money away to those he pretended to call friends. By the end of it all, he was homeless… once again.

Arata had wasted all his money. The women who sung his praises no longer graced him with their presence, the drugs he indulged in as a way of escaping reality were no longer available, and he was out of cash. As a result, he went back to his habits of seducing any suspecting individual naive to fall for it and this led him to reunite with Masamuna’s wife - now a widowed woman.

She was not proud of the man Arata had become, disappointed by how low he had fallen and the revelation that he ran away from a good friend in Vanyel. Even so, she could not find it in herself to let him wander around aimlessly yet again.

Her deceased husband wouldn’t have wanted Arata to suffer the fate of living on the streets again. She would honor his memory by giving Zhang one more chance to make things right. To start, she allowed him to stay at her house for a year, but there was a catch. She directed her daughters to spy on him and make sure he didn’t engage in any drug use or even the consumption of alcohol. Sexual encounters with anyone were completely forbidden.

Challenged but not deterred, Arata wanted to honor Masamune’s memory by turning his life around even though he had lost so much yet again, he couldn’t dishonor the memory of a man who felt he was worth taking a chance on. During the year, he received a letter from his beloved sister Xiaoli.

She wished to see him again, to make amends, and if he was willing, hopefully, work towards fixing the relationship between him and his father. He had written a letter back to her that he would gladly visit her but he was not sure how he felt about his father. Even so, this was enough to suffice for Xiaoli as she paid for his ticket. Simply seeing him again would suffice.

As he reached the plane and gazed at the door, he sighed.

Well, here goes nothing.

Third time's a charm, right?





Superhuman Strength: A natural byproduct of both his lineage and his nature as a well-trained Tao-Chi human, Zhang stands at the summit of superhuman physiology. Possessing a well-defined musculature with corded muscle located in the essential areas, Zhang is physically gifted in many ways than your average superhuman never could be.

His superhuman strength allows him to complete tasks and exert strength that allows him to punch through walls, steel constructs, rock, and the potential to punch through even more as he continues to develop into the warrior he was meant to be.

Beyond his striking force, Zhang’s superhuman strength allows him to lift heavy objects - from large cars to boulders and other objects the average human could never dream of lifting. He is described as a diamond in the rough, and his potential is boundless but in order to realize it, he must continue to train and develop his technique.


Superhuman Endurance: Zhang can take a punch. That sounds incredibly generic but it is true. His endurance, coupled with a body in peak physical condition, allows him to take a barrage of punches or kicks and still go on if there isn’t significant strength behind it. His skin has almost been described as feeling like steel due to his good shape and bruising him is no simple task. Due to the training under his father’s tutelage, he learned to hone his body into a weapon that could endure punishment - a shield that would not easily fall when under duress.

As a true martial artist, he is capable of focusing his energy around different parts of his body, entering a state where he can endure damage that would normally kill your average superhuman foe. As with every other physical attribute he has been blessed with, Zhang has the potential for yet greater heights - only if he is willing to pursue them.


Stamina: Although it might not be the make or break aspect of most warriors, in Zhang’s case, his superhuman stamina allows him to maintain himself in battle without tiring out. He’s never exactly tested himself against spiritual beings so it remains to be seen how long he could truly last against one with supernatural skill, but when it comes to hand-to-hand combat? Zhang can go on for hours if given the opportunity. He won’t rest until his enemy lets up and even then, he’ll keep going just to prove he can hang with anyone he goes against.

World-Class Athlete: Due to his upbringing and training, Zhang has developed his body into a work of art that any athlete in the world would admire. He is at peak condition in almost every physical attribute there is and even his speed - though hardly within the realm of legend - is equivalent to the world’s finest runner in track and field. He can leap long distances, run at top-notch speed befitting a superhuman, and climb in fierce terrain if challenged to do so. The most frightening thing is - his body is like a diamond yet to be polished - and there is no telling how far he can go from an already flourishing canvas.


Elite Martial Prowess: Zhang’s physical attributes are truly something to be admired but they would be meaningless without the foundation of martial art skill. Though he practically despises his father, the man blessed him with a worldly knowledge of martial arts and the strategy a battle may entail when engaged in a duel.

As much as he may deny it, martial arts are the very lifeblood of Zhang’s techniques and though he may seem like the type to indulge in a typical round of fisticuffs or a brawl, his pride would never allow him to enter a battle without relying on his greatest gift - his skill as a martial artist.

He relies heavily on reading his opponent's movements - at least in hand-to-hand combat - and prefers to strike first or wait until his opponent reveals a weakness in their defense, soaring in for the counterstrike like a fierce tiger. He was raised studying Wing Chun and Hung Gar, simultaneously borrowing many of the elements and techniques that compromise these venerated styles. He favors Hung Gar but can seamlessly shift into Wing Chun as well. The shift is akin to how a fighting game character switches between two modes of fighting. This fluid transition between the two styles is breathtaking.





Rank 1: The Hundred-Man Armed Fists: With the basis of Reiki control, the user can focus their Jing to their fists. Being a technique entirely based on its strength and resistance this allows them to throw a punch as if it were from a hundred men with gauntleted fists. The style itself focuses on basic but solid fist strikes that are easy to throw, and lack any level of straining nature on the body or the energy supply, making it a good opening technique, or a technique best used against someone you are trying to exhaust. It does not stand well against those highly skilled in Martial Arts, however, as the basic nature of the technique makes it easy to see through. Basic does not mean it is a lacking technique, and those without considerable Martial Prowess will still be overwhelmed by it, it is simply in comparison to the other techniques of Dantian.

Rank 2: Circling Nine Cranes: Focusing one's Qi to their feet, the user's maneuverability increases, allowing them to slip around a target many times with ease, throwing them off with a constantly moving target and striking out with their nails, clawing skin and drawing blood to debilitate and eventually defeat their enemy. A technique suited to the slow crippling of the enemy, it bleeds them over time until they can no longer stand, and as such, can be passed over by some who wish more immediate results, or against targets with strong defensive abilities or explosive offensive abilities.



Rank 3: Illusionary Palm: Focusing their Qi to their arms, the power allows them to make movements that are not entirely truthful to the naked eye, causing a scattered delay in the ability to see the strike coming, and making the enemy perceive several palms for every one that is thrown. This rank is focused on palm strikes, the stunning and disrupting of the target's stance and flow, or in more dramatic cases, their organs and bodily functions. The degree of Qi put into the palm dictates how many are seen alongside the real one, and so a true fighter will judge their opponent, and adjust accordingly.

Rank 4: Three Thunder Fists: A master of Hundred-man Armoured Gauntlet decided that he needed something greater, something more powerful if he was going to continue in Wulin. And so, he cultivated, trained, and partook in elixirs until one day he broke through into Three Thunder Fists. An advanced form of Hundred-man Armoured Gauntlet, the user focuses their Qi to their fists, and then strikes with such might, their impact creates a thunderclap. It retains its basic roots, but enhances the use of Qi and the technique of the strike, allowing it to be superior in strength, but also more draining.

Rank 5: Shrieking Mountain Wind: A technique designed for those who would rather avoid being in close quarters, Shrieking Mountain Wind focuses Qi to the arms and then allows the user to strike out, with palms similar to Illusionary Palm. However, the culmination of the technique is radically different, as the Qi and the focused palm strike allow the user to fire compressed balls of air at the enemy, striking them without stepping into range. This is not something that is best used on a person more comfortable at range, nor does it hit as heavily as the other techniques, and so it is more a technique to fill in a gap or keep a target at bay


Rank 6: Dantian Exploding Penetration Strike: The apex Qi technique, Dantian Exploding Penetration Strike gathers all the Qi the user has cultivated to their fist, and then makes a swift and strong forward-thrusting punch, resulting in an explosive attack of incredible destructive power. It is here that the Qi is put under such pressure it is compressed into Shen, and so this technique is the gateway to the profound lands of Shen manipulation.

Rank 7: Soul-Crushing Strike: Drawing their Shen to their fists, or feet, the user then strikes a targeted location with such delicacy it could be considered the caress of a lover. However, with the enhancement of Shen, even such a caress holds dark connotations, as the power of Shen passes through the obstacles of skin to splinter bone and impact organs, sometimes rupturing them entirely, based on the degree of Shen in opposition to the sturdiness of the target.

Rank 8: Wulin Splitting Legs: Channelling their Shen to their legs, the user becomes empowered by the raging energy, that they may split Wulin asunder with their power. The technique revolves around a lot of leg work, with immense power and precision, granting superior range to the fist, and allowing the user to smash through any obstacle they are confronted with in their goal to bring about their target's defeat.

Rank 9: Breaching Heavens Gates: The epitome of Shen Manipulation, this technique is highly draining to use, and so only Great Ocean Beast masters can use it for more than a short burst. It channels the power of Shen to the entire body, and fills it with unparalleled strength, striking with a vicious, but focused power from every point of their body, and overwhelming their target until it lays defeated before them, and they have triumphed.

Thousand Mortal Thrusts(Silver Grade):

A formidable technique brimming with potential - Thousand Mortal Thrusts is Zhang's cultivation technique, borne from his relentless zeal as a martial artist and his noteworthy endurance.

It is not particularly as mystical or divine as other cultivation techniques - and requires the mind of one who is fully committed to the realm of true martial prowess.

When utilized, his martial cultivation improves with every strike he makes against a physical object. The effect varies based on two crucial factors - the level of strength he exerts and if he fights without the use of gloves or wraps around his hand.

In truth, the technique was cultivated from years of Zhang spending his entire life striking at surfaces and objects with his bare hands. Admittedly, he knows it is not the most lofty technique compared to other cultivators, but the potential is boundless.




None. He broke.



General Skills

• Durability:Advanced
  
• General Speed:adept
  
• Strength:Advanced
  
• Martial Skill: Advanced
  

Tao Chi Human Sheet

• Comprehension:Adept
  
• Physique:Elite
  
• Talent:Advanced
  
• Support Skill:Beginner
  

Will Skills

• Willpower/Determination: Advanced
  
• Mental Deduction: Adept
  
• Focus: Adept