Qianyuan City. The County Magistrate's Courtyard.
It was a picture of serenity—birds chirping, flowers blooming in the afternoon sun. But the tension among the men gathered there was thick enough to choke on.
"So, Jiang Dao is back?" The young man at the head of the table spoke without looking up. He was a scion of the Tuoba clan.
"Yes, my lord. He returned just moments ago," Magistrate Zhao replied, bowing low enough to strain his back.
Another youth frowned. "He's back, but Seventh Brother isn't. Third Brother, do you think something happened?"
The leader, the Third Young Master of the Tuoba family, tapped his finger against the table. "It's been five days. No messages. No signs. Seventh Brother is dead."
"Dead?" The gaunt general standing nearby gasped. "Does this Jiang Dao actually have the guts to move against the Tuoba family?"
The Third Young Master shot him a look so cold it could freeze water. "If he killed Seventh Brother, it's not about guts. It means he's not human. Go. Invite Jiang Dao to the Yamen for a chat. I want to see what this man is made of."
"At once, Third Young Master." The gaunt general didn't hesitate. He scrambled backward and fled the garden.
The Flame Gang Headquarters.
The gaunt general stood before Jiang Dao, his spine bent in a permanent curve of subservience. His smile was plastered on, a mix of terror and ingratiating.
"Gang Leader Jiang," he simpered. "That is the purpose of my visit. The Magistrate and the Tuoba lords would be honored if you graced them with your presence at the Yamen tonight."
Jiang Dao's expression was unreadable. He glanced at the gilded invitation in his hand.
"Since Young Master Tuoba asks, I will attend," Jiang Dao said calmly. "Thank you for the delivery, General."
"The honor is mine! I'll take my leave now."
The general backed away, bowing repeatedly. Rumor had it that Jiang Dao had slaughtered a Tuoba expert. The general felt like he was standing inside a tiger's cage; he expected Jiang Dao to sprout fangs and tear his throat out at any second. To him, the only things capable of killing Spirit Removers were other Spirit Removers—or monsters.
He didn't know which category Jiang Dao fell into, and he didn't want to stick around to find out.
As he hurried out of the compound, the general glanced toward a side courtyard. He froze. A little girl, perhaps seven or eight years old, was playing there. His eyes went wide with recognition and horror.
He shuddered violently and bolted.
"Boss," Xiang An whispered, stepping out of the shadows. "That old rat saw Qin Qingqing."
Jiang Dao narrowed his eyes, watching the general's retreating figure. "I know."
He stood up, his massive frame casting a long shadow.
"Let him run. They're all dead men walking anyway. Seeing her won't save them."
Deep in the Mountains.
The fog here was a living thing, heavy and cold. The hooting of owls echoed like mournful laughter.
Inside a cave choked with black mist, a voice rasped—a sound like grinding stones.
"I go into seclusion, and this is what happens? My Spirit Child Palace... decimated. My children, my commanders... dead or broken."
The voice sent shockwaves of fear through the forest. Birds took flight; animals cowered in their burrows.
From the swirling gloom, a silhouette emerged. He was tall, thin, and pale as a corpse, with lips stained a violent crimson. Five figures knelt before him, trembling, their foreheads pressed to the dirt.
"Tell me," the Palace Master whispered. "How did they die?"
"Master," the Left Guardian stammered, "The Tuoba family and the Corpse Dao Sect have been hunting us. They breached our headquarters... they slaughtered us like cattle!"
"And there is another," the Right Guardian added, his voice dripping with hate. "A mortal faction. The Flame Gang. Their leader killed White Bone and Young Master Shi. We have been humiliated on all sides!"
"A mortal faction?" The Palace Master's eyes narrowed, a strange smile twisting his red lips. "Since when do mortals bully us? Or are you simply incompetent?"
"Master, their leader... he isn't human. He's strange."
"Strength?"
"Unclear. Likely peak Destruction Level."
"Peak Destruction Level?" The Palace Master laughed, a dry, rattling sound. "And that scares you? You disappoint me."
A murderous aura exploded from him, suffocating his subordinates. "But patience. No one steals lives from the Spirit Child Palace without paying interest. Tenfold. Hundredfold."
"Who do we strike first?" the Left Guardian asked.
"The Tuoba family," the Palace Master grinned, revealing teeth that looked too sharp. "I have fused with the Sacred Artifact. I need a hundred of their souls to celebrate."
Evening. The Yamen.
A carriage rolled to a halt. Jiang Dao stepped out, his black robes billowing. He looked less like a guest and more like a storm cloud taking human form.
"Gang Leader Jiang! You came!" Magistrate Zhao and the gaunt general rushed forward, their smiles brittle and strained.
"Were you waiting for me?" Jiang Dao smirked.
"The safety of Qianyuan City rests on your shoulders," Zhao said, sweating. "Come, the Tuoba lords are waiting."
They led him into a private chamber filled with the sound of flutes and the scent of expensive incense. Dancers twirled in the center of the room. Two young men from the Tuoba family sat at the main table, looking bored.
"Gang Leader Jiang," the Third Young Master said, gesturing to a seat. "You're a hard man to find."
"I like to wander," Jiang Dao said, sitting down heavily.
"Let's drink," the Third Young Master said, pouring a cup.
"Skip the pleasantries," Jiang Dao said, ignoring the wine. "Tell me what you want. I'm not thirsty."
The atmosphere in the room plummeted. The music stopped. The dancers froze.
The youth sitting next to the Third Young Master sneered. "We invite you for a drink, and you refuse? That's not very polite."
"I said I'm not thirsty. State your business."
"And if I insist?" The youth's eyes turned cold.
The Magistrate and his officials quietly began to back away, sensing the violence in the air.
Jiang Dao smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. He turned to the arrogant youth. "So, you're looking for a fight?"
"Jiang Dao, don't be an idiot. Drink the wine."
"Or what?"
"Or you die."
"Interesting." Jiang Dao twisted the ring on his pinky finger. "I've walked a long road to get here. Not many people talk to me like that and live. I think... You should die first."
BOOM.
It happened in a blur. A massive shadow—a claw condensed from pure, dark force—slammed down.
The youth looked up, his arrogance replaced instantly by sheer terror. He didn't even have time to scream.
CRACK.
The floor shook. The youth exploded into a mist of blood, bone shards, and meat.
Jiang Dao reached into the crater he had just created, grabbed a handful of hair, and yanked. He tossed a mangled, bleeding head onto the dinner table.
"If you wanted a fight, you should have just said so," Jiang Dao said, wiping his hand on the tablecloth. "I hate people who beat around the bush."
The severed head hit the mahogany table with a wet thud.
Its face was caved in, eyes bulging in a permanent stare of disbelief, aimed directly at the Third Young Master.
The Third Young Master shot to his feet, eyes wide. "Fifth Brother!"
He couldn't process it. His brother was a Spirit Remover. He had a divine bloodline. And this... this thug just squashed him like a bug?
Magistrate Zhao and the officials collapsed to the floor, their legs turning to jelly. This was beyond murder. This was butchery.
"You called me here for a reason," Jiang Dao said, his voice terrifyingly casual. He inspected his hand; the massive claw had vanished, leaving his skin unblemished. "Talk."
The Third Young Master was shaking. Rage and terror warred in his chest. "You... you killed a Tuoba..."
"I'm giving you five seconds," Jiang Dao interrupted. "If you don't get to the point, you join your brother. One."
"Wait!" The Young Master screamed. All his bravado evaporated. Standing before Jiang Dao felt like standing before a natural disaster. "We wanted to investigate the Sacred Artifact!"
"Sacred Artifact? Where?"
"I don't know! The location isn't confirmed!"
"Unconfirmed? Then you're wasting my time." Jiang Dao frowned. "Three seconds."
"I... let me think!" The youth's mind raced, but fear had paralyzed him.
"Too slow."
BOOM.
Jiang Dao's hand, wreathed in the terrifying heat of Fire Poison, clamped onto the Third Young Master's skull.
"Ahhhh!"
"I promised a little girl I'd wipe out your family," Jiang Dao whispered, leaning in close. "Consider this a down payment."
He squeezed.
Fire and force converged. The Third Young Master's head popped like a ripe melon. His body was incinerated instantly, leaving nothing but ash.
Jiang Dao dusted off his hands. He turned to the trembling pile of government officials in the corner.
"Magistrate Zhao," Jiang Dao sighed. "This is tricky. If I kill you, it looks suspicious. If I let you live, you might tattle to the Imperial Court."
"Mercy!" The Magistrate banged his forehead against the floor until it bled. "I saw nothing! It was evil spirits! I swear!"
"Me too!" The gaunt general cried. "I won't say a word!"
"I believe you, Zhao," Jiang Dao said thoughtfully. Then he looked at the others. "But too many mouths create problems."
WHOOSH.
A wave of Fire Poison swept through the room.
In an instant, the general and the other officials were decapitated, their bodies blasted backward by the thermal force.
"Clean," Jiang Dao noted. He walked over to the shivering Magistrate, bent down, and patted him on the shoulder. "If you want to report me, go ahead. I'm not afraid. But I think we understand each other."
"Yes! Yes!" Zhao sobbed. "Tomorrow I will unfreeze all your assets! I am your servant!"
Jiang Dao laughed and walked out into the night.
The Jiang Residence.
Jiang Dao arrived home, the smell of blood still faint on his skin. Before he could enter the gate, he paused.
Laughter drifted from a nearby alley.
Four figures stumbled out, arms draped over each other, reeking of cheap wine and perfume. It was his younger brothers, Jiang Wen and Jiang Wu, along with two cousins. They were grinning like idiots, high on life and liquor.
They froze when they saw the dark silhouette blocking their path.
"Big Brother..." Jiang Wen stammered, straightening up.
"Flower wine again?" Jiang Dao's voice was low.
"No! Just... relaxing," Jiang Wen lied poorly.
"Relaxing?" Jiang Dao stepped into the light. "Did you forget how our other brothers died?"
The four playboys sobered up instantly. "We're sorry, Big Brother."
"Get inside. You're grounded for a month. If I catch you stepping one foot out of this house, I will break your legs myself."
Terrified, they scurried toward the gate.
As Jiang Wen passed him, Jiang Dao felt it. A cold prickle on his skin.
"Stop."
The command was absolute. Jiang Wen froze.
Jiang Dao reached out, his hand glowing faintly. He grabbed at the air around Jiang Wen's shoulder and pulled.
A wisp of grey Yin Qi—invisible to the normal eye—writhed in his grip.
"Where did you go?" Jiang Dao demanded, staring at the sinister energy.
"Osmanthus House!" Jiang Wen squeaked. "But we didn't do anything! They just sing there!"
"They sell art, not bodies," Jiang Dao sneered. "You're going to get sucked dry and die without knowing why."
Just then, their father, Jiang Dalong, came rushing out, looking frantic.
"Dao! What's wrong? Why aren't you coming in?"
"Nothing, Father."
Jiang Dao closed his fist.
SCREECH.
A high-pitched, inhuman wail erupted from his palm as he crushed the Yin Qi. Black smoke hissed and vanished.
The family turned pale.
"Dao... was that an Evil Spirit?" his father whispered.
"I'll handle it," Jiang Dao said, his face hardening. "Lock the doors. No one leaves."
He looked back at the darkness of the city. He had killed the Tuoba heirs. He had silenced the officials. But the shadows were still moving.
Even here, in a new city, the monsters were watching his family.
"Jiang Wen," Jiang Dao said, his voice deadly calm. "What was the name of the girl you were with?"