Chapter 103
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Chapter 103: Title
For ordinary people, witnessing such a scene would result in nightmares at best, or lifelong psychological trauma at worst.
Among the unrecognizable corpses that had been devoured and the severely decomposed remains, four survivors were rescued.
Interrogations revealed these individuals—homeless persons and scavengers from the city—had been abducted.
This explained their absence from missing persons records: such marginalized groups, lacking Identity Cards or familial ties, often vanish without notice.
“Are you alright?” Qiao Feiyu glanced at the spectral figure trailing him.
“Yes.”
“Return to the jade pendant. I’m heading out.”
Though shadows shielded the alley from direct sunlight, the midday glare beyond posed grave danger to a frail spirit like the boy.
“Understood.” The boy ghost dissolved obediently into the jade pendant dangling from Qiao Feiyu’s red-threaded wrist.
Exiting the alley with visible irritation, Qiao Feiyu wondered if he were fundamentally incompatible with Hanzhou City. His previous mission here had concluded with an unexpected “souvenir”—the ghostly Mingyu.
This boy ghost’s identity, later uncovered through Special Bureau investigations, revealed fragmented memories of his mortal life. During Qiao Feiyu’s last assignment—apprehending an international fugitive curse master responsible for multiple murders—he’d inadvertently formed a bond with Mingyu.
Post-capture interrogations yielded a method to dissolve their unnatural contract. While initially planning to send Mingyu to reincarnate, the Ghost in Red—the Bureau’s foremost spectral authority—intervened.
“This child’s soul is too fragile,” she’d declared. “Attempting rebirth would scatter him before reaching the gates of the dead. His nascent ghost cultivation merits preservation.”
Faced with potential soul dissolution, the Bureau revoked the master-servant pact under the Ghost in Red’s guidance. Following their “problem creator, problem keeper” policy, Qiao Feiyu became Mingyu’s guardian—a role made literal upon discovering the spirit’s earthly age of fourteen, below Zhongxia’s legal adulthood.
Now Qiao Feiyu sustained Mingyu’s unstable spirit with yang and spiritual energy, while the ghost assisted him in return. Their symbiosis would continue until Mingyu achieved autonomy.
Special Bureau Dormitory, Hanzhou City Branch
Hu Mei trudged past Qiao Feiyu, ears flattened. “I’ll shower first,” the exhausted woman mumbled. “Begin the debrief without me—I’ll supplement later.”
Abyssal creature extermination tested even the sturdiest constitutions. Qiao Feiyu’s blood-soaked exit from the alley had required a taxi driver’s mercy—and an extra 200 notes—to bypass his murderous appearance during recent homicide investigations.
“I’ll cover for you,” Qiao Feiyu nodded.
Meeting Room
Zhang Wutong concluded his rodent-purge report: “We’ve contained the infestation, but undetected abyssal worm hosts may remain.”
The room tensed. These parasites could infect spirit cultivators, animals, even humans—a biohazard crisis surpassing fiction. Only abyss-born worms possessed full virulence; successive generations weakened until parasitism faded entirely.
Ao Ming’s voice cut through the silence. “I’ll expose remaining hosts. Execution falls to you.”
The declaration hung heavy. Neutralizing countless infected creatures would demand lethal precision and split-second reflexes—a grim calculus for the team to undertake.
Zhang Wutong contemplated for a moment, wondering if such individuals truly existed within the Special Bureau. Regardless, he knew he must report Ao Ming’s request to higher authorities.
The response came swiftly.
—Affirmative. The guardian of Kunlun Mountain possessed such capabilities, though regrettably, she remained unaffiliated with the Bureau and bound to her sacred post.
That said, the Bureau housed numerous sword cultivators alongside other practitioners skilled in devastating area attacks. To enlist the ancient practitioners’ aid this time, they’d likely need to temporarily unleash portions of their sealed cultivation.
*
Special Bureau Headquarters
"Young Master Leng, what’s that you’re playing?" Yang Xingyu angled his camera toward Leng Xingwen after obtaining permission, the lens briefly panning over the computer screen.
"An online game." The silver-haired cultivator arched an eyebrow, pausing his virtual arena battle that had been underway before the interruption.
"What’s all this for?"
"Documenting daily routines of our esteemed big shots for the live stream audience." Yang Xingyu’s eyes darted to his phone where bullet comments flooded the screen like digital locusts, completely obscuring the feed whenever Leng Xingwen appeared.
"Would Young Master Leng honor us with some answers? Your admirers have questions."
Observing the barrage of gilded comments propelled by virtual rocket gifts, Yang Xingyu cleared his throat. The messages overwhelmingly demanded attention for the Bureau’s most photogenic cultivator.
"Proceed with your inquiries." Leng Xingwen leaned back, his posture impeccably straight.
——God-tier visuals! Even gaming he maintains perfect posture!!!
——Ask what kind of girl he prefers!!
——Why does Young Master never update Weibo?
——Haven’t seen official updates in ages QAQ
——Accept disciples? Gender irrelevant, bed-warming skills appreciated!!
Yang Xingyu filtered through the deluge, discarding inappropriate queries. "Your followers note your Weibo inactivity. Even your venerable grandfather posts sunset photos periodically."
Most ancient practitioners had embraced social media with verified accounts, some becoming alarmingly proficient at internet culture.
The cameraman suppressed a cough when mentioning elders. Their "Young Master", despite his youthful appearance, likely celebrated his bicentennial long ago. Such was the power of immortal aesthetics.
"Weibo updates… What content would be appropriate?" Leng Xingwen tapped his chin. His profile contained only an inaugural post from registration day.
He’d created the account solely to follow Xiao Tianji’s updates, though courtesy demanded he follow various seniors and juniors. The platform itself held little appeal.
Glancing at the still-flooding comments—"SELFIES!", "LIVE STREAM!", "LITERALLY ANYTHING!"—Yang Xingyu nearly choked. "Just share anything. Photos of scenery, perhaps. Doesn’t need to be personal."
"You could even stream your gaming sessions. Viewers would watch you read tax codes with that face."
Yang Xingyu’s gaze lingered on the cultivator’s jade-like features. Mere exposure of that countenance could crash servers with fangirl traffic.
"Noted." Leng Xingwen inclined his head gravely, as though receiving profound wisdom rather than shameless pandering to internet culture.
Their conversation concluded, Yang Xingyu drifted toward other cubicles. The sprawling office complex rarely filled completely, designed to accommodate field agents who needed only internet access to work.
As Leng Xingwen’s hand hovered over his gaming mouse, a melodious ringtone interrupted—an ancient cultivation ballad customized for… particular contacts.
"Grandpa, is something wrong?" He stepped into the unoccupied tea room and answered the call.
"The disturbance in the Jiuzhou barrier days ago has been traced to its source," came his grandfather’s grave voice through the receiver. "Report to Deputy Director Xi’s office immediately."
"Understood." Leng Xingwen terminated the call and strode toward the elevators without hesitation.
Upon arrival, he found the office unexpectedly crowded – besides his grandfather and Deputy Director Xi Ning, numerous other figures occupied the space.
"After consulting Elder Ji Lang, we’ve confirmed the Jiuzhou barrier reacted to an entity it deemed threatening," Xi Ning addressed the assembly, his fingers tracing patterns on the polished mahogany desk. "Data analysis from two days prior suggests Abyssal involvement."
Leng Xingwen settled into his seat just as the deputy director concluded. "But the abyssal invasion occurred before the barrier’s disturbance," he interjected. "What’s the connection?"
"Though incomplete data hinders full analysis, the Abyssal correlation is undeniable," Xi Ning responded. "Our current theory suggests high-level abyssal creatures infiltrated Jiuzhou undetected mere days ago."
The implication hung heavy – any entity capable of bypassing the barrier’s defenses surpassed previous abyssal incursions in potency. Yet no reports of massive creatures had surfaced, indicating sophisticated concealment.
Leng Xingwen’s gaze swept the room. Beyond his accomplished peers, two senior experts sat with folded hands. This gathering suggested more than routine containment.
"The Hanzhou City incident involved an abyssal worm infecting a spirit cultivator," Xi Ning continued. "Subsequent investigations revealed extensive parasitic infestations in subterranean networks. After conferring with His Highness of the dragon race, we’ve devised an operation…"
His tone shifted consultative, though the assembled knew refusal wasn’t an option after their preliminary briefings.
By twilight, the Special Bureau’s chartered aircraft descended toward Hanzhou. The city’s next dawn brought mandated lockdown – shops shuttered, streets empty under emergency protocols.
"Seal all quadrants," Ao Ming commanded, a luminous golden orb materializing above his palm. The Dragon Pearl’s radiance cast long shadows across his impassive features.
Operatives adjusted their bureau-issued commlinks, eyes drawn to the legendary artifact rumored retrieved from Eastern Sea’s dragon vault. This celestial conduit, older than recorded history, pulsed with primordial energy.
As the Pearl resonated with the barrier’s four guardian constellations, daylight fractured. Stellar patterns bloomed across noon skies, celestial pressure cascading earthward. The Dragon Pearl flared, channeling cosmic might through its crystalline structure.
Every living being shuddered under the celestial onslaught. Domestic animals cowered, wildlife froze mid-motion. Even seasoned operatives gasped under the metaphysical weight – a fleeting but profound reminder of heaven’s wrath.
For the targeted abyssal entities, this became existential reckoning. They surged through designated kill-zones like panicked vermin, unaware of awaiting containment grids.
Ao Ming observed dispassionately as the Pearl dimmed. Celestial acknowledgment shimmered through the clearing haze – golden motes settling on executioners and artifact alike. His brow furrowed; divine favor typically followed world-altering acts, not routine purges.
High in the World Tree’s branches, Ye Linlang chuckled through her observation portal. "Slumbering yet omniscient," she mused, tracking Seki’s retreat through Hanzhou’s outskirts.
The Abyssal Priestess’ screen-image sharpened – a pale girl in obsidian-edged gown, stilettos clicking against voidstone. Her contemptuous gaze fell upon the cowering Big-Eared Monster.
"Pathetic," Seki hissed, frost forming where her fingers brushed the viewing crystal. "Even with restrained harvesting, you attracted attention."
The creature groveled, ears flattening. "Forgiveness, Dark Mistress! The Zhongxia watchers-
"Enough." Seki’s gown swirled as she turned westward. "We’ll test neighboring lands – those sharing Zhongxia’s borders yet lacking their…vigilance." Her lips curved. "Let them pride themselves on today’s victory. When next we meet, their precious barrier will shatter like glass."
Behind her, the abandoned infestation site smoldered. Without Seki’s injected abyssal power, those worms would never have breached containment. Let the cultivators believe they’d triumphed – their ignorance would prove fatal when true darkness fell.
