The Messy Ledger of the Shrek Audit Brigade

Of the ten drumsticks, Chen Xuan ate eight.

He had originally planned to carry the remaining two with him, but just as he reached the entrance after getting up, a dining hall attendant hurried after him with a bulging oil-paper parcel in his hands.

"Elder Xuan, this was prepared for you. Have it on the road."

Chen Xuan froze for a moment, then accepted it and weighed it in his hand. It was still warm and smelled richly of oil. When he opened it, there were another five huge chicken drumsticks inside, roasted golden and dripping with grease.

He looked up at the attendant and grinned. "You get it."

"You come here often, so we all remember." The attendant smiled ingratiatingly. Seeing that Chen Xuan was in a good mood, he cautiously asked, "Elder Xuan, where are you headed? This subordinate can prepare..."

"Prepare what?" Chen Xuan waved a hand. "Does this old man need a carriage to go out? It's only a short walk."

He tucked away the oil-paper parcel, strode out of the dining hall, and lightly tapped the ground with the tip of his foot.

There was no buildup of force, no glow of Soul Power spilling forth. His entire body simply shot away like a gust of wind.

His robes snapped in the air as his figure drew a gray streak through the morning light. In the blink of an eye, he skimmed across Sea God Lake and headed north toward the Inquisitorial Legion's garrison.

The mist over Sea God Lake had yet to disperse. Several white birds startled into flight, circled his retreating figure once, then settled back onto the water.

Before long, the Inquisitorial Legion's old gray-white three-story building appeared before him.

Chen Xuan descended from the air, his feet landing before the stone steps without stirring even a speck of dust.

He adjusted his collar and looked up at the weathered plaque above the entrance.

The words "Shrek Inquisitorial Legion" had faded with age, and the entrance itself was narrow, without even a decent pair of stone lions.

He clicked his tongue. "This shabby facade isn't even as impressive as an experimental building at Sun Moon Imperial Soul Engineering Academy."

With that, he strode inside.

Beyond the entrance was a long corridor, its walls covered with mission record plaques from past years.

Dense red and black writing filled them, making the wall look like a collection of old scars at first glance.

The air carried a stale blend of aged paper, ink, and dust that made one feel stifled just breathing it in.

Several personnel on duty immediately stood and saluted upon seeing him. "Elder Xuan!"

"That's enough, no need for ceremony." He waved them off. "I'm just looking around. Get back to your work."

Without slowing, he headed straight for the archives.

As an elder of Sea God Pavilion and the concurrent vice commander of the Shrek Inquisitorial Legion, he knew this place well.

Though the original owner had usually been lazy and rarely involved himself in the Legion's actual affairs, the title of vice commander was genuine enough, and he possessed every authority that came with it.

When he pushed open the archive door, an even stronger smell of old paper rushed out to meet him.

Rows of wooden shelves against the walls were piled with mission files from recent years. By the window stood an old wooden desk, its corner weighed down by several reports that had yet to be filed away.

The dust was not thick, indicating that someone cleaned the place now and then. Yet no matter how he looked at it, the place resembled a heap of festering old debts.

Chen Xuan walked to the desk, casually pulled out a file, and opened it.

After one glance, his expression darkened.

"Class C Mission: track down two Evil Soul Masters at the Soul King level..." he read aloud. "Executors: Inner Court students, Four-Ring Soul Ancestors. Accompanying teacher: none. Mission status: completed. One seriously injured, three lightly injured."

He slapped the file onto the desk.

"Bullshit!"

He pulled out another file.

"Class B Mission: eliminate border bandits, among whom there may be combatants at the Soul Emperor level. Executors: Inner Court students, Five-Ring Soul Kings.

Accompanying teacher: one Soul Sage. Mission status: completed. Two students lost arms, one student's martial soul was damaged, and their cultivation regressed."

The more he read, the angrier he became. Finally, he hurled the entire stack of files onto the desk, sending dust billowing into the air.

"Ha. Are you bastards trying to make a fool of me?" he sneered. "A bunch of animals! Are students' lives not lives to you?"

He turned and shouted toward the doorway:

"Bring me whoever manages the archives, whoever assigns missions, and whoever currently has any authority in this Legion!"

A flurry of panicked activity broke out outside.

Not long afterward, three Titled Douluo hurried over and stood at the archive entrance. Residual Soul Power fluctuations still clung to their bodies; clearly, they had rushed here at full speed.

All three were elders with real power in the Inquisitorial Legion. Even the weakest among them was at the Ninety-First Level, and ordinarily, their word was law within the Legion.

But standing here now, none of them dared breathe too loudly.

Chen Xuan swept his gaze over them before settling it on the man in front. "You handle mission assignments?"

"Reporting to Elder Xuan, this subordinate's surname is Zhou. I am responsible for assigning Class C missions and below..."

"Class C and below?" Chen Xuan cut him off. "Then tell me, which of the two Class C missions above could be taken by a Four-Ring Soul Ancestor?

Soul King-level Evil Soul Masters, no accompanying teacher—were you sending them out for experience, or sending them to be reborn?"

The Titled Douluo surnamed Zhou broke out in a cold sweat. "Elder Xuan, this... this was done according to the rules at the time..."

"The rules, my ass!" Chen Xuan slammed the desk. "Whose rules? Did I ever make rules like that? Don't dump every goddamn blame on the rules!"

He looked around at the three Titled Douluo. His voice was not loud, yet it made the entire room hum:

"From today onward, mission assignments will be reclassified. For Class C and below, students may carry them out alone.

For Class B and above, no one is to be sent out without a Soul Sage leading the team. All Class A and Special Class missions must be reported to Sea God Pavilion and personally approved by an elder."

He glanced at the Titled Douluo surnamed Zhou. "Do you understand?"

"Understood! Understood!"

Chen Xuan did not stop and continued:

"There's one more thing. Burn this into your heads."

He raised one finger and pointed it at everyone present:

"From now on, no matter who it is or what mission they take, even the most insignificant Class C mission.

Before anyone sets out, they must bring every Soul Tool issued by the Soul Tool Department.

Defensive ones, communication ones, life-saving ones—not a single type may be missing."

He paused, and his tone grew even heavier:

"All Soul Tool expenses will be reimbursed by the Inquisitorial Legion, at market price and in full. Not one coin less.

If anyone dares take kickbacks from it, they'd better watch their life."

He said that final sentence softly, almost casually.

Yet all three Titled Douluo felt a chill run down the backs of their necks.

"I'll personally explain this to Xian Lin'er." Chen Xuan swept his gaze over them.

"From now on, the Soul Tool Department will prepare a separate equipment list for the Inquisitorial Legion.

Collect everything on the list. If you don't have it all, you are not permitted to leave on a mission."

He stood, tucked the oil-paper parcel into his robes, and took two steps toward the door. Then he abruptly stopped and turned back to add one last remark.

This time, his voice was lower, but its coldness was like icy air rising from the bottom of Sea God Lake:

He slowly turned around, his gaze passing over the faces of the three Titled Douluo one by one.

"Let me tell you something. What does Shrek never lack? Titled Douluo. But those children who can enter the Inner Court—every one who dies is one fewer."