Wind-Breaking Three Styles

"Let me introduce you all." Yue Shan beckoned to the three people in the tent and pointed to Chen Mo beside him.

"This is the newcomer, Chen Mo. He practices the Nether Paper-Crafting Art and has been temporarily assigned to our squad to participate in this clearing operation."

"Zhao Tie." He pointed to the older, more composed man. "He understands divination and feng shui arrays. He can observe qi and set up simple traps and barriers."

Zhao Tie, who looked to be about thirty, nodded at Chen Mo. His face remained calm, though his eyes lingered on the young man for a moment longer than necessary.

He clearly remembered how this young man had looked a month ago—face pale as paper, his breath as thin as a thread.

"Zhou Ling." Yue Shan turned to the short-haired woman. "The squad's eyes and ears. She specializes in marksmanship and hidden weapons."

Zhou Ling grinned at Chen Mo, her gaze equally full of curiosity.

Because she was young and couldn't keep her thoughts to herself, she couldn't help but lean in closer once she saw him.

"Chen Mo? Is it really you? When we last met, the cold Sha Qi on you was so intense I could feel the chill from three paces away."

"Boss Yue said you had less than a year left to live. Are you completely healed?"

Her question was exactly what Zhao Tie was silently pondering.

Yin Sha Body Erosion and the depletion of one's origin were, in their line of work, equivalent to a suspended death sentence. It was rare enough to keep it from worsening, but to recover to a normal state in such a short time was unheard of.

Yue Shan didn't offer an explanation for him, choosing instead to stand to the side with his arms crossed.

Chen Mo could feel the astonishment in their gazes and managed a somewhat strained smile. "Half-healed. Not completely."

"Alright, that's his private business."

Before she could continue her interrogation, Yue Shan waved his hand to cut her off. "That one is Wu Tong."

He pointed to the corner of the tent.

A young man in his early twenties was bowing his head, wiping a slender, straight-edged blade. Hearing his name, he looked up, revealing a handsome face, though his brows carried a hint of arrogance.

His gaze swept past Zhou Ling first before landing on Chen Mo, and he offered a nod that was neither warm nor particularly rude.

"He uses a blade and has good footwork," Yue Shan said, keeping the introduction brief.

Wu Tong didn't stop wiping his blade, merely giving a casual "hmph" in Chen Mo's direction.

He was clearly uninterested in Chen Mo, his attention mostly drifting, intentionally or not, toward Zhou Ling.

Zhou Ling, however, seemed completely oblivious, her curiosity entirely focused on Chen Mo. "Half-healed? Then how much of your ability can you use now? The Nether Paper-Crafting Art... I've never seen the real thing."

She didn't bring up the lifespan issue again, but her probing was even more intense.

Yue Shan didn't stop her this time, merely looking at Chen Mo.

Wu Tong also paused his wiping and looked up.

Sensing their scrutinizing gazes, Chen Mo didn't say much. He reached into his cloth pouch and took out a palm-sized Weaponized Paper Puppet.

He pressed two fingers together, a wisp of purple light—more solid than before—coiling around his fingertips before quickly sinking into the doll's forehead.

The paper doll shuddered and instantly expanded to the size of a man. Its head turned slowly; it had no facial features, yet it made Zhou Ling, who was facing it, feel an inexplicable chill as if she were being watched.

"The paper puppet follows orders. It can fight, act as bait, or deliver simple items."

Chen Mo gave a rough overview of the puppet's functions; his techniques were already in the Bureau of Strange Suppression's secret archives, so there was no point in hiding them.

"In my current state, I can control two puppets for about the time it takes to burn a stick of incense."

As soon as he finished speaking, the paper doll took a step forward, raised its stiff arms toward Zhou Ling, and clumsily cupped its hands in a salute.

"Hey!" Zhou Ling jumped, then burst into laughter, her eyes filled with even more wonder. "That's interesting! It's like a wooden doll, but it feels more sinister."

"How many hits can this thing take? It's just a minor heterodox trick." Wu Tong looked at the self-moving puppet, his brows furrowing slightly. "It can only scare ordinary people."

His tone was blunt, clearly dismissive of such eerie methods.

However, one couldn't blame Wu Tong; everyone in the Bureau of Strange Suppression who practiced Blood-Qi Martial Arts held a certain prejudice against these heterodox arts.

This sentiment had existed ever since the Red Moon descended a hundred years ago.

"That's enough." Yue Shan spoke in a deep voice, suppressing any potential argument.

He was worried the two young men would get competitive and start fighting right there in the tent.

He knew better than anyone in the tent how strong the paper doll was, having already clashed with it that night at the Black Tiger Gang.

Chen Mo looked at Wu Tong with some confusion. What was with this inexplicable hostility?

What happened to the harmonious teamwork and mutual support he expected?

Thinking this, he remained calm and cupped his hands toward the group. "I'm new here, so I hope you seniors will offer your guidance."

"Guidance isn't necessary, just look out for each other," Wu Tong said flatly. "As long as you don't hold us back."

Ignoring them, Yue Shan walked to a metal box, took out a neatly folded black uniform, a black waist token, and a straight blade in a scabbard, and turned to hand them to Chen Mo.

"We are all training under the Inspection Bureau, and these are the standard issue for field agents."

"The fabric of the uniform is specially treated and has some resistance to ordinary Yin energy, but don't expect it to block blades or powerful spells."

"Once you activate the waist token with a drop of blood, it will link to your aura. It serves as both your identification and a tool for simple warnings and communication."

Chen Mo took the clothing, feeling a slight chill and a tough texture to the touch.

"The blade is a standard-issue Evil-Slaying Blade; it's somewhat useful against ordinary wraiths and ghosts, and it's sharp enough for cutting down men as well."

Yue Shan then pulled a thin booklet from his bosom.

"The Wind-Breaking Three Styles, the foundational blade technique for both the military and the Anomaly Suppression Bureau. It has no fancy flourishes, focusing instead on being fast, accurate, steady, and ruthless. It was created specifically for life-or-death combat. Seize the time to look it over; grasp as much as you can."

"In the Anomaly Suppression Bureau and the Inspection Bureau, every extra bit of skill is an extra bit of hope for survival."

Chen Mo took the blade and the booklet, his heart stirring slightly.

Is this considered an onboarding benefit?

Although simple and direct, it exuded a style of pragmatism above all else.

"I'll arrange a place for you to stay first. The others should adjust their states on their own; gather here at five o'clock for a meal."

Having said that, he turned and walked toward the outside of the tent.

Chen Mo nodded to Zhao Tie and the other two once more, then quickened his pace to follow Yue Shan.

They passed through several tents of similar specifications and arrived at an area of relatively orderly brick buildings behind the wharf.

This place appeared to have originally been a warehouse and manager's office for some merchant firm, now temporarily requisitioned by the Inspection Bureau.

Yue Shan led Chen Mo into one of the two-story buildings, stepped up the creaking wooden stairs to the second floor, and stopped in front of a door.

"This room is currently vacant; you'll stay here." He pushed the door open.

The room was not large, with simple furnishings: a wooden plank bed, an old wooden table, a chair, and a small wooden cabinet in the corner.

The windows were tightly shut, but one could see that the sky outside was growing increasingly gloomy.

The sweltering heat of August could not be dispelled even in a room near the river, and the air was permeated with the scent of old wood.