Three days later, near noon.
Wei Luo sat idly in a tavern, drinking tea.
In response to the Pure Fragrance Cult's activities within the city, Wang Xiang had chosen to conduct a dragnet-style investigation.
He divided Ping River into various sectors, with a Three Refinements martial artist stationed in each one.
Below the Three Refinements martial artists, other fighters patrolled day and night. The moment they discovered traces of the Pure Fragrance Cult, they could report it, and the Three Refinements martial artists would move in to kill them.
This tavern was where Wei Luo normally kept watch. Yet over the past few days, aside from killing a few batches of lowly missionaries, he had not made a move even once.
"Those damned Pure Fragrance Cult bastards—why did they suddenly disappear? I was waiting to kill a few more and learn some horizontal training techniques."
The tea leaves in the cup had long since steeped until all flavor was gone. Liu Changle sprawled across the table and grumbled.
Strangely enough, it was not just his sector. The other sectors were much the same, as if the Pure Fragrance Cult had vanished overnight.
Liu Changle's desire for battle burned fiercely, but the Pure Fragrance Cult's abnormal behavior gave Wei Luo a bad feeling.
He had not forgotten what happened to the Zhao Family. The Zhao Family's misfortune had most likely been caused by a traitor within the city.
It seemed even Wang Xiang's arrangements had been discovered by the Pure Fragrance Cult.
Just as Wei Luo was wondering what wicked scheme the Pure Fragrance Cult was holding back, hurried footsteps rushed into the tavern.
"Brother Wei, something happened! Several brothers responsible for patrols were killed by people from the Pure Fragrance Cult. Their bodies are in North Alley!"
The messenger was