Inside the Old Fox's clinic, the pungent scent of disinfectant mingled with the faint, cold fragrance of Su Qingyue's aura. Outside, the sirens of Emerald Street remained sharp and frantic, but the slums where the clinic lay were as silent as stagnant water.
Su Qingyue stood barefoot on the cold alloy floor. Although her face remained pale, a brilliant, iridescent luster flowed within her purple eyes—a byproduct of absorbing Gu Hanzhou's Imperial Gold blood.
"The reason Lin Xiu was so desperate to send you into the abyss—even risking the destruction of the ruins with explosives—wasn't just to scout for the Legion," Su Qingyue said, her voice slow but carrying the weight of a mountain. "He is 'rotting' from the inside out."
Gu Hanzhou's hand traced the hilt of [Black Order], his brow furrowing slightly. "Are you referring to Aberration?"
"No, something far more sinister: Pseudo-Inscription." Su Qingyue stepped toward a worn metal table. Dipping her finger into a bowl of pale-green coolant, she traced a jagged, broken hexagram on the surface. "For three years, he harvested my Primal Blood to forcibly 'carve' Order-tracery into his own veins. It's a shortcut—a way to wield the power of the Inscribed Blood Phase without the necessary spiritual foundation. It makes him a god for minutes at a time, but it also turns him into a volatile powder keg."
The Old Fox gasped, nearly dropping his mechanical eye. "Pseudo-Inscription? That's a forbidden art explicitly banned by the High Inquisition! If he loses control, the resulting energy eruption could shred several city blocks!"
"That is his fatal weakness," Su Qingyue continued, turning her amethyst gaze toward Gu Hanzhou. "To suppress the clashing bloodlines within him, Lin Xiu must consume a high-purity 'Stabilizing Agent' every six hours. The mechanical dispenser for that medicine is embedded directly into the back of his neck, integrated into his Inquisitor's Collar."
Gu Hanzhou's eyes sharpened.
He recalled his first brief clash with Lin Xiu at the waste pits. He remembered the metallic collar that had erupted with a defensive barrier at the exact moment he had launched his killing strike.
"That collar is his shield, but it is also his life-gate," Su Qingyue explained. "Because of the constant pressure of the Pseudo-Inscription, the collar has synchronized with his spinal nerves. If you can interfere with the collar's mechanism during the exact window he attempts to dose himself—specifically with a strike imbued with Dark-Order attributes—his own bloodline will backfire. He won't just fail; he will collapse from the inside. You won't even need a second strike."
"Dark-Order..." Gu Hanzhou looked down at the blade across his knees.
[Black Order] seemed to understand its master's intent. The obsidian steel emitted a faint, eager vibration. This blade was a natural conduit for the Dark-Order; every drop of blood it devoured only strengthened its ability to destabilize and erode the structures of the physical world.
"How long until his next dose?" Gu Hanzhou asked.
Su Qingyue closed her eyes, seemingly tapping into an invisible, ethereal connection. After a moment, she looked up. "Two hours. But he lost critical supplies at Warehouse No. 3 and the Moonlit Bar. His emotional instability will accelerate his energy consumption. He will take the dose early."
"Location."
"The side-hall of the Adjudication Sanctum at the end of Emerald Street. It has the most sophisticated Order-shielding in the district. It's where he feels safest."
Gu Hanzhou stood up, pulling his grey cloak tight around his tactical armor.
The Old Fox was so startled he fumbled a glass vial, watching it shatter on the floor. "Gu Hanzhou! Are you insane? That's the Inquisition's headquarters! Every hound in the city is sniffing for you, and you're walking right into the lion's den? That's suicide!"
"Staying here is just waiting to die," Gu Hanzhou replied, his voice leaking from the shadows of his hood, cold enough to make the Old Fox shiver. "Lin Xiu expects me to flee the city now that I have the goods. He will never expect me to turn back and hunt him in his own temple."
"I'm coming with you," Su Qingyue said, supporting herself against the table as she stood. Her frame was delicate, yet her resolve was absolute.
"You can't even outrun a common mine-slave right now," Gu Hanzhou stated coldly.
"But I can mask your presence from the Eyes of Order." Su Qingyue reached into her tunic and pulled out an inconspicuous, dark-purple pendant. "This is a Stealth-Stone, a relic of my clan. It can only be activated by my Primal Blood. Without it, you won't even make it past the Sanctum's outer gates."
Gu Hanzhou remained silent for three seconds. He hated carrying dead weight, but Su Qingyue's value was undeniable.
"Stay close. If you fall behind, I'm not looking back."
Gu Hanzhou pushed open the clinic's back door, letting in a gust of damp, industrial wind.
Su Qingyue didn't argue. She threw a tattered raincoat over her shoulders and followed the boy into the night.
The two silhouettes vanished into the twisting, lightless alleyways of the slums. Behind them, the Old Fox stared at the empty room, muttering to himself, "Madness... this kid is going to tear the very sky down over the Iron City."
Meanwhile, at the far end of Emerald Street, Lin Xiu sat in the darkened side-hall of the Adjudication Sanctum. His right hand was clamped over the back of his neck, his fingers digging into the metallic collar. His facial muscles were contorted in a grotesque mask of agony as his veins pulsed with an unstable, violet light.
"Hurry! Find those serums!" he roared at the cowering guards below. "Find them, or you will all feed the furnaces!"
He sat there, trembling with rage and pain, entirely unaware that in the shadows of the ventilation shaft high above his head, a pair of dark-gold eyes were watching the rhythmic pulsing of the vein in his neck.
It was the gaze of a god of death.