A Mission to Die

Early the next morning, Foreman Wang gathered everyone in the Corpse Handling Room.

His face was heavy, his eyes carrying a trace of grief, as he announced a piece of grim news.

"Brothers, something's happened. A scout squad from the patrol went missing at Black Wind Gully outside the city. Their last message mentioned encountering a large number of Corpse Transformations and some kind of eerie black vine."

"The Captain's office has ordered an immediate elite squad to head to Black Wind Gully to investigate and do everything possible to search for survivors. According to protocol, one Corpse Handler must accompany them, responsible for... handling any fallen comrades' remains we might find on-site, and assisting in identifying traces of demonic creatures."

The moment he finished, the entire Corpse Handling Room fell into a deathly silence.

Black Wind Gully!

That name was like a death curse for every low-level operative in Nanling Prefecture.

It was a notorious cursed ground near the prefecture, rumored to be the remains of an ancient battlefield, thick with Killing Intent, howling with eerie winds year-round, and constantly spawning twisted, incomprehensible horrors.

Forget about investigating it—even passing by could bring bad luck.

In an instant, every Corpse Handler lowered their heads, trembling like cicadas in winter, terrified of being struck by this "golden opportunity."

Foreman Wang's gaze swept like a hungry wolf over the sea of fearful faces, until finally, with a look of eager approval, it landed on Lu Chen at the back of the line.

"Lu Chen!"

He called out loudly, his tone brimming with unquestionable "esteem."

"Since you joined the office, you've repeatedly achieved outstanding feats, and your luck is unmatched. Your skills... seem to have improved well, too. This mission is dangerous, but it's also a tremendous opportunity! If you earn merit, I'll personally petition the Captain to promote you as my deputy!"

"This heavy responsibility is yours alone!"

At these words, Zhang Mazi and the others instantly wore expressions of relief mixed with schadenfreude.

The few Warrior Team members assigned to accompany the mission also shot Lu Chen hostile looks, clearly seeing a jinxed Corpse Handler as nothing but dead weight.

Lu Chen's heart sank to the bottom.

It seemed he could no longer hide his true capabilities.

The knife was out, the map was unrolled.

Foreman Wang's murderous intent was now laid bare.

But on his face, he instantly squeezed out a complex expression blending extreme terror, supreme honor, and a desperate resolve to face death.

His voice trembled, yet carried a forced steadiness.

"This... this subordinate obeys! I will... will not fail Foreman Wang's trust!"

He bowed his head deeply, bending low, using the humblest posture to mask the cold glint that flashed through his eyes.

Back in the Corpse Handling Room, Lu Chen immediately began preparing for this suicide mission.

He pulled out all his belongings.

The specially crafted Boning Knife, honed to a mirror-like sharpness; two carefully drawn [Calming Talismans] and one [Breath Concealing Talisman]; his last remaining [Qi and Blood Pill]; and all the Blood Activating Powder he had saved up.

Lu Chen wrapped these items carefully in oilcloth and tucked them close to his body.

Then, in his mind, he silently took stock of all his cards.

[Demon Suppressing Saber Technique (Mastery)]

[Turtle Breath Meditation Method (Beginner, on the verge of breakthrough)]

[Body Evasion Steps (Minor Mastery)]

[Shadow Step (Minor Mastery)]

[Demon Devil Lifespan: 4 years]

These were his only reliance for stepping into this death trap.

Lu Chen slowly exhaled a mouthful of turbid air, his gaze turning razor-sharp.

Crisis often walks hand in hand with opportunity.

Though Black Wind Gully was a cursed ground, it also meant there might be countless unclaimed demonic corpses there—or even higher-tier beings.

To him, that was a sea of Demon Devil Lifespan, supreme nourishment for breaking through his realm!

"Foreman Wang..."

Lu Chen tightened his grip on the Boning Knife, a cold curve tugging at his lips.

"You want me dead... but you might just be handing me a heaven-sent fortune!"

As dusk settled, a cobbled-together squad silently stepped out of Nanling Prefecture's heavy city gates under the fading glow of sunset.

The team was led by an experienced old Imperial Guard.

His surname was Liu, known as Old Liu, his face etched with the marks of wind and frost, his eyes sharp and keen.

Behind him followed four conscripted warriors, all burly, tense, their hands never leaving the hilts of their blades.

Lu Chen was like a piece of unwanted luggage forced into the group, dumped at the very back.

The warriors' looks at him were filled with undisguised disgust.

"Damn it, what rotten luck!" A scar-faced Warrior spat on the ground, his voice low but loud enough for everyone to hear. "Going to a godforsaken place like Black Wind Gully, and we have to bring a corpse-handler along—are they afraid we won't die fast enough and no one'll be left to collect the bodies?"

Another Warrior snorted and chimed in, "Scarface, save your breath. Maybe that's exactly what Foreman Wang intends—let this undertaker get familiar with the job early, so he can piece us brothers back together in one piece when the time comes."

"One piece? Once we're in Black Wind Gully, counting a few leftover bones would be a blessing!"

A burst of jeering laughter rang out, dripping with malice.

Leader Liu frowned and barked back over his shoulder, "Shut it, all of you! Watch your step!" But the look he cast at Lu Chen carried the same distance and a faint, barely perceptible disdain—clearly, he didn't truly see Lu Chen as a teammate worth protecting.

Lu Chen kept his head down, silent as a stone soaked by rain, letting all the mockery wash off him.

His minor mastery of Shadow Step kept his steps light, letting him trail perfectly at the back of the group like a genuine shadow.

The main road soon ended, and the mountain path ahead grew rougher and more desolate.

Twisted dead trees, dark red earth, rusted remnants of weapons... the deeper they went, the more unsettling the scenery became. The Killing Intent in the air grew denser and more biting, like countless tiny needles of ice trying to burrow into their marrow.

"Set up camp!" Leader Liu chose a sheltered spot against a cliff and gave the order decisively.

He pulled out the bronze formation plate from his chest, chanted a spell, and raised a faint barrier of light that blocked out most of the chilling wind and Killing Intent.

The Warriors started a fire and arranged their watch.

"You!" The scar-faced Warrior pointed rudely at Lu Chen. "Hand out the rations and water for everyone, and keep an eye on the fire! If it goes out tonight, or if you attract something unclean, I'll be the first to feed you to the demons!"

Lu Chen silently did as he was told, without a word of complaint. He sat down by the campfire and quietly added more wood.

Late into the night, aside from the Warriors on watch, the others lay down in their clothes, but no one could truly sleep.

The wind howled like ghosts wailing, and in the distance, there seemed to be a faint, hair-raising scraping sound.

Lu Chen sat cross-legged by the fire, appearing to doze off, but in truth, he was fully focused on circulating the Turtle Breath Meditation Method, both to ward off the cold and to sharpen his senses to their peak, alert for any movement in the darkness.

In the latter half of the night, it was the scar-faced Warrior's turn on watch.

Unwilling to put in the effort, he kicked Lu Chen's shin and snarled, "Hey, undertaker, get up and take my shift! I'm gonna catch some shut-eye!"

Lu Chen opened his eyes, glanced at him, said nothing, and silently took his place.

The scar-faced Warrior grunted smugly, wrapped his coat tighter, lay down nearby, and soon was snoring loudly.