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The wind howled eerily past his ears, like countless vengeful spirits tearing at his eardrums.

Fang Mo was held under the armpits by two people, his legs dangling, swinging with their every stride, much like cured meat fresh from the market.

Below, the Divine Capital, a tapestry of prosperity, its bustling traffic reduced to streaks of light and color, rapidly retreated across his retinas.

"I say, you two, slow down, slow down!"

Fang Mo's mouth was full of wind, making his words slurred.

"It's only because I have a good temper that you can treat me like cargo. If it were someone else, they'd surely throw up on you!"

Upon hearing this, the Monkey not only didn't slow down but instead exerted force underfoot, his steps landing on the rooftop with a crisp crack, accelerating their pace.

"Young Master Fang, please bear with us. You know the boss's temper. If we're late, the three of us will lose a layer of skin."

Before long, the Demon Suppression Division was already in sight.

Unlike the oppressive gloom of his visit the night before, the Demon Suppression Division by day was even more solemn. Its aura of iron-blooded combat charged towards the heavens, instilling a natural sense of dread in anyone who approached.

The two colossal Bixie stone statues at the entrance seemed lifelike in the sunlight, as if they could come alive at any moment and devour them.

"Down!"

The Monkey grunted.

The three of them retracted their bodies like great birds, landing steadily within the inner courtyard of the Demon Suppression Division.

"Let's go!"

Fang Mo stumbled a couple of steps, patted his wrinkled clothes, and didn't get angry, maintaining his usual cheerful demeanor.

"Lead the way, lead the way."

"I'm a regular, I know the way."

This time, they didn't go to the dungeon.

Instead, they passed through several heavily guarded courtyards and arrived before a side hall named Mirror Hall.

Though its name was Mirror Hall, Fang Mo detected a scent of blood far more potent than that of the dungeon.

It was the lingering resentment of countless demons slain, an essence that refused to dissipate in the air.

"Boss, the person is here."

The Monkey and the Ox didn't follow inside, instead standing guard at the entrance like two door gods.

Fang Mo straightened his robes.

He took a deep breath.

Then, he pushed the door open and entered.

The light inside the hall was dim.

No lamps were lit, and only a few high windows allowed shafts of light to penetrate, illuminating the empty marble floor, where dust motes danced in the beams.

At the head of the hall sat a large zitan wood desk.

Behind it sat a person.

A silver-white flying fish robe outlined a slender and agile figure.

Her dark hair was tied up with a jade hairpin, revealing a smooth forehead and a face as beautiful as it was cold and frosty.

"You're here."

Fang Mo patted the dust off himself and cupped his hands with a grin.

"Commander Li."

"It's been a long time."

"One day apart feels like three autumns; this subordinate has missed you terribly."

Li Mingyue finally looked up.

Her cool eyes fell upon Fang Mo, as if she were observing some strange creature.

"Silver-tongued."

She put down the scroll in her hand and gestured to the chair beside her.

She pointed to the chair below.

"Sit."

Fang Mo made no pretense of politeness, sitting down casually and pouring himself a cup of tea.

"Sir, you were so eager to find me, is there a major case to crack?"

"Or perhaps..."

Fang Mo took a sip of tea, smacked his lips, and showed his displeasure.

"Why is this tea still old? Is the Demon Suppression Division that poor?"

"Or is it that the matter from the other day isn't over yet?"

Li Mingyue ignored his banter.

She leaned back slightly in her chair, her gaze still sharp.

"Gu Yichuan of the Punishment Department is dead."

Fang Mo put down his teacup, his expression instantly shifting to solemnity and sorrow, his change of face as swift as a Sichuan Opera performer.

"Understood."

"He died young, heaven envies talent!"

"When I was giving my statement to Commander Lei this morning, Sir, I was sobbing my heart out. It would move the saddest and make the hardest weep."

"If you'd like to hear it, Sir, I can gather my emotions and cry another passage for you now?"

Li Mingyue's lips twitched slightly.

This kid's skin was thicker than the city walls.

"Alright, stop acting."

Li Mingyue waved her hand, seemingly too lazy to watch his scoundrelly display.

"I'm not interested in how Gu Yichuan died."

"That's the Punishment Department's business, nothing to do with our Demon Suppression Division."

"I sent for you because of something else."

She picked up a jade slip from the desk and threw it to Fang Mo.

The jade slip arced through the air, landing steadily in Fang Mo's arms.

Fang Mo picked up the jade slip. It was warm to the touch, clearly not an ordinary item.

"What is this?"

"A mission."

He raised an eyebrow, pointing at the patterns on the jade slip.

"Sir, we agreed. I'm a jailer in the heavenly prison, not a bloodhound for the Demon Suppression Division."

"This side job..."

Li Mingyue stood up and walked in front of Fang Mo, looking down at him.

"The Divine Capital has been restless lately."

Her voice lowered slightly, carrying a murderous aura.

"The batch of Blood Spirit Pills Gu Yichuan was investigating wasn't something a ruffian like Iron Bone Liu could get his hands on."

"To refine this pill, one needs the heart's blood of ninety-nine virgin boys and girls. The methods are extremely cruel."

"There's a bigger fish behind this."

Fang Mo's heart skipped a beat.

So it was.

This wasn't over.

But on his face, he put on an expression of someone who disliked trouble, even shrinking further into his chair.

"Sir, this is a job that could cost me my head."