The So-Called Confidant

Back in his small courtyard, Fang Mo didn't rest immediately.

He pulled a dusty wooden chest from under the bed and began packing his belongings.

Since Lei Heng had told him to report tomorrow, he had to go through the motions.

A few changes of clothes, several well-worn storybooks, and the money pouch used for silver—it was quite plump now.

After packing, Fang Mo sat at the slightly wobbly wooden table and poured himself a cup of cold tea.

The tea was bitter, but it cleared his head considerably.

The candidates Wang Youan had given him, though said to be to repay a debt, Fang Mo knew were the fatty paving the way for him.

In a wolf's den like the Punishment Department, without a few trustworthy subordinates, let alone investigating cases, he wouldn't even be able to sleep with both eyes closed.

However, relying solely on Fatty Wang's people wouldn't be enough.

Those were the people for show, to handle official duties and maintain appearances.

When push came to shove, he would still need his own private soldiers.

"Ergou, Gu Yichuan."

Fang Mo's thoughts stirred, his consciousness sinking into the Prison Suppressing Realm.

Under the blood-red sky, Gu Yichuan, who had been supervising, and Wang Ergou, sweating profusely, immediately dropped their tasks and scurried over, kneeling to await orders.

"I'm going to the Punishment Department to take up my post tomorrow," Fang Mo's voice echoed in the space.

Gu Yichuan's body trembled, and he abruptly raised his head. A look of nostalgia and complexity appeared on his ghostly face.

The Punishment Department was the place he had strived his entire life, and where he had ultimately died.

"Congratulations, my Lord, on your promotion!" Wang Ergou said. Although he didn't know what the Punishment Department was, he knew he had to flatter first.

Gu Yichuan also reacted and quickly kowtowed, "My Lord is mighty! Although the Punishment Department is dangerous, with your methods, you will surely be able to manipulate it at your fingertips."

"Less flattery," Fang Mo said calmly. "Gu Yichuan, you are most familiar with the Punishment Department. Compile all its intricacies for me, especially the details of that old scoundrel Lei Heng, and the factional relationships between the various Small Flags and Hundred Households. I want to see it tonight."

"Yes!" Gu Yichuan accepted the order. This was his old trade.

He had been involved in the Punishment Department for so many years. Although he had died there in the end, he knew all the ins and outs, who was involved with whom, who took whose illicit money.

"Also," Fang Mo looked at Wang Ergou, "we have more people now, and our force has grown. We can't manage like we used to with simple methods. Starting today, you are to train these ghost soldiers for me."

"Train?" Wang Ergou was a bit bewildered.

"Yes, train," a cold glint flashed in Fang Mo's eyes. "Don't just swing your clubs around. Learn formations, learn cooperation, learn how to make an enemy's soul collapse in the shortest possible time."

"Especially that newly arrived Bloodthirsty Rakshasa. Although I've absorbed his authority and he lost some memories after merging with that bald donkey Yuanjue, this old fellow definitely has more tricks up his sleeve. Squeeze him dry."

"Understood!" Wang Ergou rubbed his hands excitedly.

After arranging matters in the Prison Suppressing Realm, Fang Mo withdrew from the consciousness space.

He took out the Black Iron Token, which represented the identity of a Small Flag, from his bosom and examined it carefully under the lamplight.

The token was ice-cold, and the Bi'an pattern on the back was ferocious and terrifying.

"Small Flag..."

Fang Mo let out a sneer and casually tossed the token onto the table.

The next morning.

Fang Mo, carrying a large bundle on his back, stood at the entrance of the White Tiger Hall of the Wannian County Punishment Department.

This place was much grander than the heavenly prison, but also more sinister.

The two stone lions at the entrance were stained a dark red from blood, it was unclear if they were decorations or real blood.

"Is that the new Fang Small Flag?"

"He looks like he hasn't even weaned yet. Can he fill Gu Yichuan's shoes?"

"Hush, keep your voice down. I heard this kid was personally recommended by Lord Lei and has some background from the heavenly prison."

The several Captains on guard at the entrance were whispering amongst themselves, their eyes filled with disdain and curiosity.

Fang Mo pretended not to hear, dropped the bundle on the ground, and shouted loudly at the clerk at the entrance: "Excuse me, the newly appointed Seventh Small Flag of the White Tiger Hall, Fang Mo, has come to report for duty!"

His shout was full of vigor, startling the drowsy clerk.

"What are you yelling about! Don't you know the rules!" The clerk looked up irritably. Just as he was about to put on airs, he saw a harmless smiling face and a small piece of silver being quietly passed to him.

"Brother, thank you for your hard work. I'm new here, please take care of me in the future," Fang Mo blinked.

The clerk's movements were extremely smooth. He instantly swept the silver into his sleeve, and his previously sour face bloomed like a chrysanthemum: "Oh, so it's Lord Fang! I've heard so much about you! Lord Lei gave instructions, your office is in the west wing courtyard, I'll take you there now."

This was a case of "easier to see the King of Hell than a minor devil." Fang Mo never skimped on small sums like this.

Following the clerk through the corridors, Fang Mo secretly observed the terrain of the west side.

The west wing courtyard was somewhat secluded, with mottled walls and overgrown weeds, looking like a forgotten corner.

"Lord Fang, this is the station for the Seventh Small Flag," the clerk said, pointing to the few dilapidated tile-roofed houses and smiling awkwardly. "After Lord Gu left, the staff here scattered, died... cough, currently it's just an empty shell. But Lord Lei said you can recruit your own personnel."