Chapter 94
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Chapter 94: Title
Several familiar figures disembarked from the plane connecting Capital City to Hanzhou City. Among them stood Qiao Feiyu, while another individual swaggering with illusionary magic could be none other than Hu Mei.
Ao Yuan soared through the skies as a black dragon, departing Eastern Sea City for Hanzhou City at a velocity surpassing all mortal conveyances.
The Hanzhou branch of the Special Bureau dispatched a driver to receive them. No sooner had they exited the airport than a new directive arrived, rerouting them to collect another passenger.
"Who’s this additional pickup?" The assigned driver frowned, having only recognized the two passengers upon sight. He now grasped the identities of these reinforcements.
Hu Mei immediately commandeered the front seat upon entering the vehicle, adamantly avoiding proximity to Qiao Feiyu. Even as a spirit cultivator, she harbored no desire for close encounters with restless spirits.
Her gaze drifted enviously toward the driver. The boy ghost accompanying them remained invisible to ordinary perception—only those with Yin-Yang eyes or advanced cultivation could discern his spectral presence.
Since Qiao Feiyu’s ascension to Tier One cultivation, his companion spirit had gained newfound abilities. What once posed difficulty—concealing their auras—now came effortlessly through Qiao Feiyu’s refined energy control.
"My apologies," the young driver announced. "Team Leader insists we collect another passenger."
"Perfectly fine," Hu Mei replied, curiosity piqued. "But who might this be?" She wondered if headquarters had deployed additional agents beyond their duo.
The car soon halted.
Three pairs of eyes widened at the roadside figure. Though anticipating reinforcements, none had expected the Bureau to summon this particular presence.
When Ao Ming, Your Highness, opened the rear door, the boy ghost—previously seated—flashed into Qiao Feiyu’s shadow, trembling violently enough to merge with his protector’s form.
Understanding the dragon’s innate lethality toward spirits, Qiao Feiyu raised a shielding arm behind which the spectral youth cowered.
"Ao Ming, Your Highness," Hu Mei ventured, detecting no hostility, "have you come regarding Hanzhou’s crisis?" Her pulse steadied slightly despite the instinctive awe any spirit cultivator felt before draconic royalty.
A curt nod.
"Even the Spirit Management Division mobilizes…" Hu Mei mused, recalling Ao Ming’s legendary reclusiveness. The dragon prince supposedly remained ashore solely to assist his brother Ao Yuan.
Of the three dragon sovereigns, only the youngest—Ao Lan the White Dragon, enamored with mortal affairs—deigned to interact regularly with humans.
"Can those tainted by abyssal forces be saved?" pressed Hu Mei.
"Uncertain." Ao Ming’s tone brooked no argument. "My mandate ends with resolving spirit cultivators’ disruptions here. His Majesty, the Dragon Lord, will decree further actions post-report."
The white-knuckled driver ferried his three illustrious passengers to the Special Bureau’s local headquarters. Captain Zhang Wutong awaited them in the meeting room alongside his team.
"Honored guests, welcome."
"Captain Zhang." Hu Mei stepped forward for a handshake, her pre-mission briefing having familiarized her with local personnel.
"Respects, Captain." Qiao Feiyu inclined his head.
"Expound swiftly," Ao Ming interjected, frost coating his words. "Time dwindles."
From the moment they’d entered Hanzhou, something had prickled at Ao Ming’s senses. Now he identified it—the Spiritual Energy thrumming through the city vibrated with unnatural agitation. Prolonged exposure risked cultivation deviation, madness creeping into unfocused minds.
This atmospheric corruption suggested widespread infestation by abyssal creatures and parasitic entities. Ao Ming’s golden gaze slid to Zhang Wutong. If human cultivators had succumbed…mercy would not stay his hand.
"—current situation outlined." Zhang Wutong’s brisk summary concluded. "Our underground networks teem with these aberrations."
Those beings parasitized by abyssal worms would rapidly lose control of their bodies, transforming under the worms’ influence into grotesque creatures—abyssal beings capable of evolving into combat forms that plague human cultivators.
Zhang Wutong announced, "This operation’s codename is ‘Rodent Extermination.’"
Qiao Feiyu remarked, "An apt designation indeed."
Hu Mei interjected, "What of the rat demon? Having come this far, we must inspect it."
Zhang Wutong glanced at Ao Ming. Receiving no objection, he nodded. "Certainly, though its condition has deteriorated further."
"It’s currently confined in the little black room," he added, addressing Ao Ming. "Your Highness should comprehend our precautions?"
Ao Ming, newly appointed mediator between spirit and human cultivators, responded impassively. He deemed humanity’s approach excessively soft-handed.
Yet… no matter. Their accords stipulated even lawbreaking spirit cultivators must face retribution from their own kind. This case involved a spirit cultivator’s life—understandable they opted for containment to avoid diplomatic complications.
Within the Special Bureau’s containment chamber,
A half-human-height red-furred mole huddled motionless in the corner. Patches of its once-vibrant pelt now displayed advancing gray pallor from abyssal corruption.
Complete discoloration would signal its final metamorphosis into an abyssal thrall, mirroring its former companions’ fate.
Submission had never been an option. The mole’s desperate flight and subsequent plea to Special Bureau agents proved its resistance.
Yet infection prevailed. Though currently benign, human custodians dared not release it—thus the monitored confinement.
Awaiting judgment.
Clutching its tail, the creature wallowed in despair. Survival seemed improbable, death’s certainty looming large.
Low-tier spirit cultivators like itself possessed scant knowledge of the abyss. Its understanding stemmed from human educational outreach and spirit cultivator news programs broadcasted in human territories.
Ironically, encountering high-level spirit cultivators—once an impossible dream—proved easier in human domains than their native realms.
Memories of subterranean life with uninfected companions surfaced, drawing mournful sighs.
The chamber door creaked open.
Ao Ming’s silhouette filled the threshold, his gaze immediately finding the despondent rat demon.
"This is the subject? Elaborate its condition." His frosty tone preceded three measured strides inward, entourage trailing.
The mole startled at the intrusion. When illumination revealed the dark-robed dragon prince, it scrambled forward gracelessly.
"Y-your Highness!"
Internal screams of disbelief echoed—to witness a Nine Extreme Demon Lord in person! Such fortune!
Hu Mei observed the rodent’s fervor silently. Had she not been human-raised, might she too display such dragon race veneration?
Ao Ming’s nostrils flared imperceptibly. The creature’s abyssal aura churned his stomach.
"Current symptoms?" He needed to gauge corruption depth. Soul infection would render containment efforts futile.
"F-fur discoloration progresses. Ephemeral… whispers. They vanish when I focus." The demon stammered nothing but truth before royalty.
"Whispers? This wasn’t reported." Zhang Wutong’s brow furrowed.
"Only recently discernible," the mole confessed. "Previously indistinct."
"Content? Clarity?" Ao Ming pressed.
"Unintelligible. Neither human speech nor spirit tongue. A… youthful feminine timbre."
"Abyssal murmurs shouldn’t manifest thus." The prince extended a hand. "Compose yourself. I’ll conduct an examination."
The mole froze obediently as dragon energy probed its essence. Soul integrity remained intact—corruption lingered at the physical stratum.
"Your Highness… will I become an abyssal horror?" Rare courage surfaced as Ao Ming withdrew.
"Your corruption rate defies patterns. No abyssal worms detected." The prince’s revelation tightened coiled tensions.
Zhang Wutong’s team exchanged puzzled glances until Ao Ming continued,
"Captain Zhang, why does your Sword Immortal Ji Lang remain untainted despite prolonged abyssal exposure?"
"The reason?"
"Abyssal victims cannot be externally aided. Willing converts succumb completely within hours—knowledge I withheld as useless for your prior cases."
"You claimed no cure existed! Withheld truths?" Qiao Feiyu’s accusation hung thick.
"Willpower." Ao Ming’s tone remained clinical. "Fierce resistance can thwart corruption. Rarely witnessed, thus irrelevant for mass advisement."
"Your Sword Immortal exemplifies this. Her iron will repels abyssal influence despite constant exposure."
"For others?" His gaze swept the room. "The more darkness within, the swifter the fall."
