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Chine Calibur Chapter 2Chapter 2
The Search Actually Begins
"So", Lank Master thought to himself, "where to start looking?""Ah I know, I will go and ask JJ".
Meanwhile (thousands of miles away), JJ is on the phone talking to mimic officer.
JJ: I know how I can get out of here.
JJ: I've heard rumours of a soul-devouring blade called chine-edge.
JJ: Apparently the holder becomes possessed by it for a lifetime.
Phone: Sounds like trouble. I'm not sure if you can maintain control for that long.
JJ: Sure I can.
Phone: OK. Retrieve it ASAP.
JJ: Affirmative (Hangs up).
"Well then, those mind control lessons best help, or I'm screwed. I'll search for Chine edge at Paradise," JJ thought to himself.
[As soon as JJ was about to start out, Lank Master dropped down out of a tree].
"Who was that JJ" asked Lank Master.
"No one important" replied JJ evasively .
"Well from the conversation that I overheard, it was someone of higher authority than you," Lank Master replied percep
Chine Calibur Chapter One
In the beginning.
1934. The beginning. Rudolph Steiner created the chine as a prison for special needs children, no matter how mild their disorders were.
He knew that people might realize his intentions, therefore created Paradise, a prison which he could send children to and make the whole world think they left school to go into society.
One of his pupil, however knew his intentions, and created Chine edge, a sword which could possess the holder and grant them endless power (including the power to destroy the school) at the cost of their soul for one lifetime.
Rudolph knew that this could mean danger, therefore creating the special sword that can protect the chine, Chine Calibur.
A fight between the two ensued, eventually costing the two their lives. The two swords disappeared. 74 years later.. And the search begins.
Chapter 1 The Search Begins
(JJ was lead on his bed whilst Lank Master was sat on the floor lent against the wall).
"So," Lank Master began. "Edge and Calibur have decide
SweepAs soon as he stepped into the open field, he slung the minesweeper from his shoulder and pointed its nose to the ground. It was old, worn and heavy, and old and rough, calloused and breaking, and old. The metal between his hands was cold and chilled his fingers. If he was not careful he could step on the very mines he was trying to find. They would have to pick up the pieces of his body and to send the tags home where his wife would cry and hold his son and daughter close with nothing to show them of their father but a piece of metal engraved with "Ajeet Singh".
One sweep, than another.
This war had taught him to never trust open spaces. Open spaces were where the mines were planted, where Prets lay in wait. France was green and damp just like the uniform he wore. It had been days since he was separated from his unit, and now the Allies were breathing on his neck, searching for POW’s, searching for the enemy of which he was one. &
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