The Demon-Slaying Bureau

Great Zhou Dynasty, Capital City.

The young man, Zhou Ping'an, walked into the imperial palace with a heart full of trepidation. He dared not raise his head, let alone look around; all he could do was follow closely behind the old man in front of him.

Zhou Ping'an had been transmigrated to the Great Zhou Dynasty for eighteen years now. That was right, he was just another member of the vast, endless army of transmigrators.

However, unlike those wild, cool, and heaven-defying transmigrators, Zhou Ping'an possessed no talent for cultivation.

In the eighteen years since he arrived in the Great Zhou Dynasty, he had tried countless cultivation methods, but without exception, every single one had failed.

In the end, Zhou Ping'an resigned himself to his fate. Since he was here, he would make the best of it and serve his mother well in this world.

As for his father, he had never seen the man since he first transmigrated.

He had asked his mother about him more than once, but she had always been tight-lipped, treating the subject as a deep taboo.

It wasn't until a month ago, when his mother knew her time was running out, that she handed him a token and told him to find the shopkeeper of the Treasure Pavilion in the Capital City. After settling a few matters, she passed away.

After handling his mother's funeral, Zhou Ping'an went to the Treasure Pavilion and handed the token, engraved with the character for "Demon," to the shopkeeper.

That led to the scene at the beginning, where the shopkeeper brought Zhou Ping'an into the imperial palace without a word.

He had expected the palace guards to stop them, but to his surprise, the old shopkeeper led him through the palace grounds completely unimpeded, as if the inner sanctum of the palace were his own home.

After winding through several turns, the old shopkeeper brought Zhou Ping'an to a side hall. Above the entrance hung three large characters: Demon-Slaying Bureau!

"Click!" Just as Zhou Ping'an was lost in his thoughts, the floor split open, and a passageway appeared before him.

"Whoosh!"

"Awoo!"

In an instant, gusts of chilling wind surged forth, and shrill, mournful roars echoed from the darkness.

Zhou Ping'an's face turned pale; these roars actually possessed the power to shake one's soul.

"Don't be afraid, they are just some demon creatures!" the old shopkeeper said with a kind smile.

Zhou Ping'an's mouth twitched. Did the old shopkeeper even hear what he was saying? What did he mean by "just some demon creatures," and "just"?

Demon creatures! He had been in the Great Zhou Dynasty for eighteen years and had never once heard of such things.

The old shopkeeper led Zhou Ping'an down the stairs. He didn't know how long they walked before he finally saw solid ground.

"This is the dungeon of the Demon-Slaying Bureau. It holds various demons and monsters. This is the core heart of the Bureau; even among the imperial clan, few know of this place," the old shopkeeper explained to him.

"Can you read?" the old shopkeeper suddenly asked.

"Yes." Zhou Ping'an nodded.

"Then read this yourself!" The old shopkeeper tossed him a thick book with "Demon-Slaying Bureau Menial Manual" written on the cover.

"Zhang San, we have a newcomer. You're responsible for him." With that, the old shopkeeper turned and left.

A bald man emerged from the darkness. When the man stepped closer, Zhou Ping'an almost dropped the book in his hands.

It was terrifying; more than half of the man's head had been sliced off. He had no idea how the man had survived such a grievous injury.

"New menial, surname Zhou. Are you the son of Zhou Bu'er?" Zhang San glanced at Zhou Ping'an's file.

Zhou Ping'an nodded. Zhou Bu'er was the father he had never met.

Zhang San's expression softened considerably. The Demon-Slaying Bureau wasn't a place where just any Tom, Dick, or Harry could walk in. He hated those who relied on connections, but it was a different story if it were the child of one of their own.

Zhou Bu'er had been a Demon-Slaying Envoy of the Bureau who died in battle eighteen years ago while hunting a great demon. Zhang San had lost half his head in that very same battle.

As the only heir of Zhou Bu'er, Zhou Ping'an naturally had the qualifications to enter the Demon-Slaying Bureau.

"From now on, you'll follow me. Since you're new, I won't assign you any tasks today. Go get a uniform, find a room, and tomorrow morning I'll take you around to familiarize yourself with the work in the dungeon." Zhang San patted Zhou Ping'an on the shoulder, his attitude unexpectedly warm.

"Actually, forget it, I'll go with you. Those heaven-damned things love to bully the newcomers." With that, Zhang San led Zhou Ping'an deeper into the Demon-Slaying Bureau.

"Boss Zhang, what wind blew you here?" A menial immediately hurried over.

"We have a new menial. Get him a uniform, a brand new one. Don't try to fool me with dead men's clothes; this is the son of one of our own, not some connection-hire." Zhang San snorted.

Ma Er looked at Zhou Ping'an standing behind Zhang San, his eyes lighting up. "One of our own? Of course, we can't neglect him. Boss Zhang, wait a moment, I'll go pick out a good one."

Before long, Ma Er returned holding a black uniform, with a small porcelain bottle clutched in his hand.

"You've got a good eye!" Zhang San nodded in satisfaction when he saw the small bottle.

"Thank you, Uncle Ma!" Zhou Ping'an took the uniform and the small bottle.

"Heh, as expected of one of our own, such a sweet talker." Ma Er chuckled.

Feeling the goodwill from Zhang San and Ma Er, Zhou Ping'an spoke as if his mouth were smeared with honey, calling them "Uncle" at every turn, which made both men laugh heartily.

After picking a room at random, Zhou Ping'an couldn't wait to open the "Demon-Slaying Bureau Menial Manual."

The Demon-Slaying Bureau was founded by the Great Zhou Progenitor to gather the world's most talented and capable individuals, specifically to capture the demons and monsters of the world.

That was right, this was a world where demons and monsters existed!

Before the Great Zhou Dynasty was established, demons ran rampant, wreaking havoc on the world and feeding on humanity.

Legend had it that a great demon could wipe out an entire nation in a single night!

Humanity was like livestock, their lives hanging by a thread.

It wasn't until the Great Zhou Progenitor appeared, unified the world, and established the Demon-Slaying Bureau to slay demons and eliminate monsters, that he returned a clear and bright sky to the human race.

The demons fled into the deep mountains, and although they occasionally caused trouble, they were no longer a major threat.

Though it was only a thin page, Zhou Ping'an saw a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood; humanity had paid a heavy price to overcome the demons.

Zhou Ping'an let out a long sigh. He had thought that with his abilities, he could live a stable and secure life in the Great Zhou Dynasty, but now it seemed the world was far more complex than he had imagined. If even demons existed, who knew what other strange and bizarre things might be out there?

As a transmigrator, although Zhou Ping'an lacked heaven-defying talent, he did have his own ability!

The ability he awakened when he turned eighteen—Longevity!

Longevity sounded impressive, but it was just longevity, not immortality!

If he were unlucky enough to be slashed by someone, he could still die.

Especially now that he knew demons existed in this world, Zhou Ping'an felt his ability was utterly useless.

I wonder if eating my own flesh would grant longevity? If so, wouldn't I be a version of Tang Sanzang? If those demons found out, that would be a disaster.

Joining the Demon-Slaying Bureau was an accident, but after learning about it, Zhou Ping'an felt there was no place more suitable for him.

The Demon-Slaying Bureau was located a hundred feet beneath the imperial palace, guarded by the palace guards and top experts above, and the Demon-Slaying Envoys below. There was no place in the world safer than the Demon-Slaying Bureau dungeon.

The last page of the "Demon-Slaying Bureau Menial Manual" contained a cultivation technique called the "Qi Nourishing Art."

Don't let the simple name fool you; this was a secret technique of the Demon-Slaying Bureau, created by generations of experts who synthesized the world's various cultivation methods.

If this manual were leaked, it would undoubtedly trigger a scramble among countless martial artists across the entire Great Zhou Dynasty.

Yet, this precious cultivation technique was within Zhou Ping'an's easy reach. One had to admit that being born into the right family was incredibly important.

A martial arts technique—this was something Zhou Ping'an had dreamed of. He had even gone to a martial arts school in the Capital City to find a master, but after practicing for years and throwing away a hundred taels of silver, it had been completely useless.

If it weren't for the fact that the other boys who joined at the same time had all achieved success, Zhou Ping'an would have suspected the school was just playing him for a fool.

After that, Zhou Ping'an knew he wasn't cut out for martial arts.

But now, with the "Qi Nourishing Art" before him, that heart for martial arts, which had been dormant for so many years, began to beat once more.

If that school couldn't teach him, it was because the school was too poor!

Zhou Ping'an absolutely refused to admit that his failure in martial arts was his own problem.

"This is a Demon Blood Pill, a pill refined from the blood of demons, capable of strengthening muscles and bones!" Zhou Ping'an opened the small porcelain bottle; there were three pills inside.

According to the rules of the Demon-Slaying Bureau, a menial could only receive one Demon Blood Pill per month. Ma Er had given him three directly; this was a huge favor.

The Demon Blood Pill was a secret medicine of the Bureau, worth a hundred taels of gold per pill. It was priceless in the outside world, and on the black market, it could even fetch a thousand taels of gold.

Zhou Ping'an carefully put the Demon Blood Pills away. He hadn't stepped onto the path of martial arts yet; taking a Demon Blood Pill would be suicide.

Following the instructions of the "Qi Nourishing Art," Zhou Ping'an sat cross-legged on his bed and began to sense the spiritual energy between heaven and earth.

Sensing Qi was the first step in practicing the "Qi Nourishing Art." Those with great talent could feel it within the time it took to drink a cup of tea, ordinary people took the time of one incense stick, and those with poor talent took three or four hours.

However, Zhou Ping'an sat on his bed for an entire night, and he still hadn't found this so-called "Qi."

He couldn't help but fall into deep self-doubt. Was his talent really that poor?

The "Qi Nourishing Art" was considered the strongest basic cultivation method in the world. If even this couldn't help him find the sensation of Qi, it was basically certain that he couldn't step onto the path of martial arts.

"I can't lose heart. So what if one night had no effect? If one day doesn't work, I'll try two. If two days don't work, I'll try a month. If a month doesn't work, I'll try a year. I have longevity anyway; even if I have to grind away at it with time, I will grind out a path of martial arts." Zhou Ping'an secretly swore to himself.

After washing up, Zhou Ping'an put on his uniform. Even though it was pure black, it felt light, breathable, and very comfortable against his skin. He had no idea what material it was made of.

"Not bad, very spirited. You look quite like I did back in the day!" Zhang San nodded in satisfaction.

"Uncle Zhang, what do we menials need to do?" Zhou Ping'an looked at the large barrel behind Zhang San, which was as tall as a person.

"Heh heh, bloodletting!" Zhang San chuckled.

"Bloodletting? Whose blood?" Zhou Ping'an was stunned.

"The demons' blood?"

Zhou Ping'an realized immediately, and his small face turned pale in a flash.