Chapter 21: The Chase of Intertwined Fate

The night was as dark as ink, and the neon lights of Kuala Lumpur shimmered in the humid air, reflecting on Lin Han's tense face. Noya's furious shout echoed through the narrow alleyway as her short sword sliced through the air, aiming straight for the black-market dealer's shoulder.

The man reacted swiftly, leaning back just in time to barely avoid the blade, though the tip still left a thin, shallow cut on his skin.

"Cilaka! Are you people insane?" he growled, quickly retreating while pulling out a small pouch of brownish-yellow powder from his pocket. With a swift motion, he scattered it onto the ground.

"Back off!" Noya instantly sensed something was wrong. She grabbed Lin Han's arm and leaped backward.

The moment the powder touched the ground, a strange scent spread through the air—bitter with a faint spicy undertone. Immediately, the temperature in the alleyway dropped drastically, and the neon lights around them seemed to be swallowed by an unnatural darkness.

"Jampi hitam…" Noya cursed under her breath, her brows furrowed. "This guy uses black magic!"

The black-market dealer smirked coldly. Taking advantage of the shadows, he quickly dashed toward the alley exit.

"Trying to run?" Noya scoffed, pulling out a silver bell from her waist and shaking it hard—

A crisp, piercing chime rang through the darkness, shattering the oppressive aura like a blade of light. Lin Han felt his breathing ease instantly, and the eerie pressure weighing on his chest weakened significantly.

"Chase him!" Noya shouted.

Lin Han didn't hesitate—he sprinted forward. His right eye burned faintly, and within the darkness, the karmic threads began to reveal themselves. He saw it—the red thread of fate stretching out from the black-market dealer's feet, leading off into the distance, showing the exact path of his escape.

"Left!" Lin Han shouted, sprinting in pursuit.

Noya didn't question him and immediately changed direction to the left. Sure enough, just as they rounded the corner, they saw the black-market dealer emerging from a side alley, clearly trying to use the terrain to lose them.

"Walau eh, you guys really caught up?" the man gritted his teeth and suddenly reached for his waist, pulling out an aged, yellowed talisman.

"Not good!" Noya's eyes widened in alarm.

Lin Han's vision twisted—the talisman pulsed with intricate Jawi script, and in the next instant, a powerful force surged toward him like an invisible shockwave, forcing him to stagger backward.

But before the magic could fully unleash, a silver light cut through the air—Noya's short sword!

Her blade struck the talisman directly, slicing it in half before it could activate. Flames erupted from the torn talisman, and it disintegrated into ashes.

The black-market dealer's face turned pale—he never expected his protective charm to be broken so easily.

"Who… who the hell are you people?" he growled, eyes filled with unwillingness.

Lin Han panted, stepping forward with a cold gaze. "I'm just a real estate agent… but maybe, not just that anymore."

The dealer's expression flickered between frustration and resignation. Finally, he let out a deep sigh and raised his hands. "Fine, you win."

Noya stepped forward, pressing the tip of her sword against his shoulder. "No more nonsense. Hand over the Jampi scroll."

The man hesitated for a moment before reluctantly reaching into his jacket and pulling out a small wooden box engraved with Jawi script. He tossed it onto the ground.

Lin Han picked it up. The moment his fingers touched the box, a strange burning sensation spread through his right eye. In an instant, he saw a vision—an ancient, towering temple, and… the underground chamber of Kek Lok Si Temple!

"So this is the key…" Lin Han murmured.

Noya glanced at him. "What did you see?"

Lin Han took a deep breath, closing the box. His gaze was firm. "We need to go to Penang."

The Snake Temple in Penang sat at the end of an unremarkable road, its entrance flanked by towering coconut trees that cast long, eerie shadows under the dim streetlights. The air was thick with humidity after the heavy rain, carrying the faint symphony of crickets and unknown insects chirping in the distance.

Lin Han stood before the ancient temple, gazing up at its intricate carvings. Serpents coiled around the eaves, their stone bodies worn smooth by time. The dark red walls, soaked with history, seemed to radiate an unsettling aura. A strange feeling gnawed at him—part unease, part curiosity.

"Walau eh, are you sure we can just barge in like this?" Noya muttered, her fingers instinctively brushing the hilt of her Malay kris. The old wound on her shoulder ached dully in the humid air.

Lin Han didn't reply. Instead, a familiar sharp pain pricked his right eye—the telltale sign of karmic threads revealing themselves. He shut his left eye, and instantly, the world transformed. A web of crimson lines intertwined in the air, pulsating faintly, guiding him deeper inside. One thread, thicker and more vivid than the others, stretched directly into the temple's inner sanctum.

The temple's interior was dimly lit, filled with a peculiar scent—a mix of sandalwood and something faintly rotten, sending a shiver down his spine.

Live venomous snakes coiled lazily around the wooden pillars, their emerald-green scales glinting under the flickering candlelight. Their forked tongues flickered in and out, as if whispering secrets only they could understand.

Lin Han swallowed hard and stepped forward cautiously, mindful not to disturb the slithering guardians. His eyes landed on the altar, where several ancient scrolls lay, their parchment yellowed with age, inscribed with a script that seemed to be a fusion of Sanskrit and Jawi calligraphy.

"You've finally arrived."

A sudden voice shattered the silence.

Lin Han and Noya turned sharply to see a figure emerging from the temple's shadowed depths. An elderly man, clad in a simple brown robe, stood at the entrance to the inner hall. His face was partially obscured by the darkness, but his clouded yet piercing eyes glowed with an eerie intensity.

"Who are you?" Noya's grip on her kris tightened.

The old man did not answer. Instead, he raised a withered hand, and in response, a golden-ringed python slithered down from his shoulder, coiling itself on the altar. The other snakes in the temple stirred restlessly, as though sensing an unspoken command.

"If you seek answers," the old man finally spoke, his voice laced with amusement, "you must first pass the trial."

Lin Han and Noya exchanged glances, understanding that whatever lay ahead was not going to be easy…