After subduing Liu Chen, Han didn’t bother interrogating him. The case was crystal clear—no need to dig deeper. His job was simple: haul the guy back to Black Cloud Town.


    Bound and gagged, Liu Chen had no chance to speak as they dragged him along. The return trip lacked the urgency of the chase, leaving Han and Bai Ruoyue at ease.


    “This spirit plant—was it worth killing for?” Han asked, pulling a green vine from Liu Chen’s spatial pouch—a Viscera Realm treasure.


    “Probably,” Bai Ruoyue nodded. “The guy he killed was a Viscera martial artist fresh out of Black Mountain. Likely picked it up there.”


    Bone Forging martial artists couldn’t enter Black Mountain, and most were dirt-poor. A Viscera-grade plant, even useless for Bone Forging, was tempting enough to risk it all.


    Such crimes weren’t rare in Black Cloud Town—rogue Bone Forging cultivators often preyed on weaker targets.


    No divine vision? Robbing beats scavenging any day.


    A typical Viscera fighter stood no chance against Bone Forging—death was certain.


    “Treasures bring fortune… and doom,” Han mused softly. A find should spark joy, yet one slip turned it into tragedy.


    He felt it keenly. In Black Cloud, no one outshone him in treasures. This month’s Fortune Gourd alone could drive the world mad.


    A mere Viscera plant sparked greed—what if Han’s secret got out?


    The world wouldn’t tolerate him. He’d be on the run, an enemy to all, with slim odds of escape.


    Good thing he’d kept his real ace hidden—no one would suspect a cheat this insane. His rapid rise raised eyebrows, sure—secrets were assumed. But secrets varied in scale; every sect prodigy had their own edge.


    As long as the cheat stayed buried, he was golden.


    Bai Ruoyue chimed in, “This plant goes to the town guard. The rest is ours.”


    Han shook his head. “A rogue Bone Forging guy—nothing worth keeping.”


    Bai Ruoyue rolled her eyes. “Junior Brother, your standards are sky-high now.”


    “Don’t want it? Give it to the guard.”


    “Nah, it’s mine by right—why pass it up?”


    Standard procedure: the town guard hired folks like Bai Ruoyue, rewarding effort—success or not. Bigger wins meant better loot. Task spoils, barring case-related items, were theirs to keep.


    The plant was evidence—off to the guard. The rest? They didn’t care.


    Legally, it’d go to the victim’s kin post-trial. But laws were laws, and enforcers were human. Who’d end up with it? Obvious.


    Not Han’s problem. Do your job, take your cut—no greed, no meddling.


    Spoils plus rewards—it’s why folks jumped at these gigs. Great Qi, 400 years strong, knew how to grease local powers and rogues. Want help? Pay up. Even insiders got solid incentives—stinginess wasn’t their style.


    Empty promises and ideals? Who’d bite? I busted my ass cultivating to watch you dangle carrots? My sword’s sharp enough to take your head!


    Only flops fed their people crumbs.


    One silver a month? Laughable. A hundred gold? The faction’s my home.


    Chatting, the duo stayed in high spirits. The Dynamic Duo’s debut? A smashing hit.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    But the vibe didn’t last.


    A figure blocked their path home. Han’s ease vanished, his face hardening.


    Clad in a black robe, hood shadowing their face, the stranger stood firm. Han halted, grabbing Bai Ruoyue.


    “Junior Brother, what’s up?” she asked.


    “Manifestation Realm,” he whispered.


    A crushing danger pulsed from the figure—not just any Manifestation cultivator, but a formidable one, far from the bottom rung.


    Bai Ruoyue paled, glaring at the robed stranger. “Who are you?”


    “Early Viscera, yet dominating your realm…” The voice slithered out, soft and eerie—feminine, yet not quite. “Black Cloud Town’s birthed a monster.”


    “Join a martial sect, master a supreme art, and you’d be a peerless prodigy—top-tier across the world.”


    “From mortal to this in months? Remarkable. Terrifying.”


    “Unheard of, unseen—extraordinary.”


    They’d watched the whole fight—likely from afar or via some arcane trick. Up close, even Manifestation couldn’t hide from Han’s senses.


    Random encounter or planned hit?


    Han kept his cool. “Here for him? His crew?”


    “Just a nobody,” the figure dismissed.


    True—if they were allies, they’d have stepped in when Han dosed Liu Chen with the suppression pill.


    They’d let him fall, only to emerge now, relishing Han and Bai Ruoyue’s plunge from triumph to dread.


    Not for Liu Chen, then…


    “You’re here to kill me,” Han stated.


    “No,” the figure corrected. “Both of you.”


    “Call for help—see if Lu Qingmo from Xuandu Monastery gets here before I end you.”


    Arrogant—wildly so. But that swagger screamed unshakable confidence.


    Manifestation versus two Viscera kids, with Bone Forging still between? No contest.


    A death trap.


    “Who sent you? Where’re you from?” Han pressed.


    The figure had no intent to enlighten a soon-to-be ghost.


    Liu Chen, witnessing this twist, lit up with glee. A lone wolf, he didn’t know this robed savior—but Han’s words rang clear: a Manifestation master here to kill these Tai Bai brats!


    Their death was his shot at life—slim, but better than a trip back to Black Cloud’s gallows.


    Join this robed badass, be their dog, or…


    His scheming cut short as darkness swallowed him.


    Han struck—[Tai Bai] severed Liu Chen’s head, then shattered his emerging soul.


    No Manifestation could yank secrets from that now.


    Live or die, you’re done.


    Not spite—Han just didn’t want what came next leaking out. Dead men—and soul-scattered ones—kept quiet best.


    “Playing clever,” the robed figure intoned, unfazed.


    They figured Han doubted their indifference to Liu Chen, lashing out in petty revenge.


    Bai Ruoyue didn’t question it—small fry in a crisis.


    “Senior Sister, listen,” Han’s voice surged into her mind, urgent.


    “When I move, grab my body and run—don’t stop, don’t look back, don’t argue. He’s too strong—I can’t split focus. Obey.”


    “No heroics, no stubbornness. Two can’t escape—one can. You go, I’m free to fight. My body stays, it’s wrecked.”


    “Trust me—I’ve got cards up my sleeve. I won’t lie.”


    Her fists clenched. She ached to fight beside him, but reason screamed: Han’s plan was their only shot.


    Manifestation rivaled Marrow-Washing—she, a Bone Forging-tier Viscera fighter, was no help.


    Her escape gave him a chance. Playing “live-or-die-together” would doom them both.


    She couldn’t fly—staying to cover was pointless.


    Death didn’t scare her; if it was hopeless, she’d die with him. But there was hope—and his body needed guarding. He couldn’t leave it exposed to a Manifestation foe.


    She had a role.


    It felt endless, but Han’s soul sped through it in breaths.


    His soul leaped free. Bai Ruoyue scooped his body and bolted, slapping on speed talismans.


    Han sighed in relief—thankfully, no pigheaded heroine trope here.


    An Lang emerged, aiding her flight. Stronger now from the Three Yin Valley boost—once a match for early Night Roaming, now a powerhouse among them—she cut air resistance with mental force, turbocharging Bai Ruoyue’s sprint.


    She dialed Lu Qingmo via conch. “What’s happening?” Lu Qingmo cut straight.


    She’d already left Black Cloud—Bai Ruoyue’s emergency signal, a gift from her, had triggered instantly.


    “A Manifestation cultivator’s after us!” Bai Ruoyue’s voice quaked, eyes rimming red.


    A pause, then a calm, steady reply: “Run. Don’t stay with Han—leave the fight to him. Trust him.”


    Conch cut. Bai Ruoyue didn’t slow, glancing back at Han, resolve steeling her gaze.


    For Junior Brother’s body, I won’t defy him.


    But—damn it, damn it, damn it!


    “Your soul’s… early Day Roaming?” The robed figure’s shock broke through. “Your talent in soul arts outstrips your martial gifts?”


    “People guess you dual-cultivate—but this? Months to shatter four realms?”


    “Unthinkable—a genius like you, even young immortals might pale.”


    They ignored Bai Ruoyue’s flee.


    A Viscera fighter escaping Manifestation? Laughable fantasy.


    Lu Qingmo needed time to reach them—plenty for ten kills.


    “Pity, but snuffing a prodigy like you? Delightful.”


    “Killing a Manifestation master would thrill me too,” Han shot back, soaring at them with fearless momentum.


    “Brave,” the figure sneered, flicking a hand. Earth roared, sky churned.


    Boom!


    A giant earthen snake erupted, jaws gaping, slamming Han and swallowing him whole.


    “Genius or not—still an ant.”


    The figure stepped forward, crossing vast distance to chase Bai Ruoyue.


    Day Roaming block that? Please.


    A prodigy ungrown was no threat—this world belonged to the strong.


    Before their second step, a dragon’s roar shattered the sky. Darkness fell, clouds swirled, fury brewing overhead.


    The Manifestation cultivator’s face twisted in alarm.