Soul Bone Bait

It was not yet midnight at Setting Sun Wharf, but rumors of a Soul Bone had already spread through the Old City District.

The rumors had not come from Spirit Hall.

They were like broken grains of rice scattered into water, slipping through taverns, gambling dens, and mercenary halls into the ears of countless Rogue Soul Masters overnight. Some said fragments of a Soul Bone were for sale in the south of the city. Others said the goods had come out of Slaughter City. Still others claimed the seller was desperate to flee, and anyone bold enough could trade their life for a fortune.

The following night, Bai Jin brought Tang San and the others to an Old Warehouse.

The warehouse stood by the river, with a battered fish-shaped lantern hanging over its Gate. Rain made its light flicker. Through the crack beneath the Gate came low arguments mixed with the smells of liquor, sweat, and the lingering sweet, bloody scent of Blood-Pattern Incense.

Ma Hongjun sniffed. "That smell really hits you."

Oscar rubbed his arms. "Just hearing the words 'Soul Bone' makes my skin crawl now."

Ning Rongrong held the Ledger they had found in the paper-offering shop, her expression grim. It was not as though she had never seen a Soul Bone; the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect had seen plenty of treasures. But the more fine things she had seen, the more certain she was that no one would casually sell one in a shabby warehouse.

"It's fake," she said quietly.

Bai Jin glanced at her. "Why?"

"The figures don't add up." Ning Rongrong opened the Ledger. "It says there are two Soul Bone fragments, but the price is divided by headcount. And these entries don't look like payments. They look like records of the Soul Masters' levels."

Tang San nodded. "They aren't selling Soul Bones. They're using them to lure Soul Masters."

A hand suddenly slammed onto a table inside the warehouse.

"Enough talk! Bring out the goods!"

Bai Jin pushed the Gate open and stepped inside.

The moment the Gate opened, everyone turned. Dozens of Rogue Soul Masters crowded the warehouse. Some wore cloaks, others carried blades at their waists, and a few gave off substantial Soul Power fluctuations. An iron box sat in the center, its lid half-open. Inside lay two fragments with a faint yellow sheen.

At first glance, they looked like Soul Bone fragments.

But a glance was all they could withstand.

Bai Jin looked them over and chuckled. "Not bad. You almost fooled these little friends of mine."

The warehouse erupted.

A burly Soul Master with a fleshy face rose to his feet. "Who are you?"

Bai Jin pointed to his Spirit Hall coat. "Can you read?"

The man's lips moved, but he did not dare answer.

Rogue Soul Masters these days dared to rob merchants and argue with nobles, but few dared to slam a table in front of someone from Spirit Hall. Bai Jin had not even covered his face. With his Silver Hair, white clothes, and black eyepatch resting on his forehead, he looked far too relaxed to be there to arrest anyone. Yet the pressure radiating from him left their throats dry.

At the back of the warehouse, someone in a gray mask suddenly raised a hand.

The iron box exploded.

The pale yellow fragments shattered into powder, and a billowing cloud of gray mist burst from the box. Caught off guard, the Rogue Soul Masters inhaled it. Their faces flushed, and their Soul Power began to surge wildly. Some drew blades and slashed at random. Some clutched their heads and screamed. Others rushed for the Gate with vacant eyes.

"Don't let them get out!" Tang San cried.

Blue Silver Grass shot up from the floor and swiftly wrapped around several of the maddened Soul Masters' ankles. Dai Mubai stepped forward, his White Tiger Protection Barrier holding back the crowd crashing toward him. Xiao Wu sprang from his shoulder and delivered three rapid kicks, sending two Soul Masters lunging for the window back into the warehouse.

Ma Hongjun was about to breathe fire when Tang San shouted, "Don't ignite the mist!"

The chubby boy forced the flames back down until his face turned red. "This stuff can explode too?"

"It contains Corrupt Blood Vine powder and a Soul-Numbing Agent," Tang San said. "Fire will make it spread."

Bai Jin raised a hand.

Azure Blue Light appeared at his fingertips. The gray mist in the warehouse seemed to be seized by an invisible hand and rapidly collapsed toward a point in midair. The Rogue Soul Masters felt the pressure around their ears ease as the sweet, bloody smell that had burrowed into their noses was forcibly drawn away.

The gray mist condensed into a ball and slowly revolved above Bai Jin's fingertips.

He looked at the gray-masked man. "Selling counterfeits is bad enough, but your after-sales service is terrible."

The gray-masked man turned to flee.

Zhu Zhuqing was already waiting by the rear window. Her Netherworld Slash flashed as she darted out from beside it. Her claws grazed the man's neck, tearing away his mask and cloak together. He cried out and was about to activate a Soul Skill when Ning Rongrong called out.

"Boss Dai, front left!"

Light from the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda fell upon him.

Strengthened by the boost, Dai Mubai drove a fist into the gray-masked man's chest. The man flew back into the warehouse. Tang San's Blue Silver Grass instantly bound his wrists and hoisted him tight against a beam.

It had taken only a few breaths.

Only then did the independent Soul Masters slowly come to their senses. Some turned deathly pale when they saw Spirit Hall's Deacon team coming in from outside. Others kept staring at the fake Soul Bone fragments on the floor, unwilling to let go of what might have been.

Tang San watched their faces, his heart sinking a little.

The words "Soul Bone" tempted Soul Masters more than he had imagined. Though the place was riddled with suspicious details and the seller clearly looked untrustworthy, people had still come armed to gamble on it. Gamblers like these were hard to save. It was not that they did not know the danger; they simply believed they could be the exception.

Dai Mubai dismissed his White Tiger apparition and asked softly, "What would have happened to them if we hadn't come tonight?"

"They would have been divided into groups and sent farther away," Tang San said. "The mist disrupted their Soul Power. When they woke, they might not even remember signing away their freedom."

Oscar's face went green. "That's vicious."

Bai Jin passed by and remarked, "That's why you shouldn't pick up every tempting thing you see. A roadside bargain is harder to stomach than a roadside poisonous mushroom."

Ma Hongjun rubbed his nose. "Brother Bai, are you scolding them or me?"

"Both," Bai Jin said.

Bai Jin walked up to them.

"Still looking?" he said with a grin. "If real Soul Bones were this cheap, the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect would have set up a stall by the city Gate."

Ning Rongrong had been tense, but that nearly made her choke. "Leave my family out of it!"

"Your family's rich," Bai Jin said. "That makes them useful."

Ning Rongrong ground her teeth in frustration, but she did not forget to hand the Ledger to Lu Heng.

Lu Heng flipped through several pages, his face darkening as he read. "They recorded the levels, Martial Souls, and family circumstances of the Soul Masters who came here. If no one had intervened tonight, the mist would have subdued them, and they would have been sent away in batches."

Tang San looked at the remains of the iron box. "The mist only disrupts Soul Power. Whatever they planned to use to control them must be at the next location."

Hanging from the beam, the gray-masked man went abruptly pale at those words.

Bai Jin walked over and patted his face. "Where's the next location?"

The gray-masked man gritted his teeth and said nothing.

Bai Jin sighed. "Why are you all so predictable?"

He raised his hand and brought the ball of gray mist closer to the man's face. The man's pupils contracted sharply, and he finally broke.

"Poison Fog Alley!" he shouted. "The goods pass through Poison Fog Alley! I'm only in charge of recruiting people. I don't know anything else!"

Tang San and Bai Jin turned to look at each other.

Poison fog.

Those two words carried weight in Heaven Dou City.

After all, someone had recently invoked Poison Douluo's name.

Outside the warehouse, the rain grew heavier, and mist rolled over the river. The lights of distant Setting Sun Wharf shone through the damp air like a few open eyes.

Bai Jin compressed the gray mist into a small bead and handed it to Lu Heng.

"Keep it safe," he said. "When we meet Poison Douluo, tell him it's a gift from someone."

Tang San was silent for a moment. "He might not like it."

"Even better." Bai Jin smiled. "Old men work faster when they're angry."