Their First Collaboration

A month later, baleful qi surged like a tide inside the Secret Chamber.

Jing Wen slowly opened his eyes, an eerie black gleam flashing through his pupils.

He lowered his gaze to examine his arms. Fine patterns of scales had faintly surfaced on his skin, glinting with a chilling white light beneath the candlelight.

"The tenth layer of the Fiendish Demon Art..." Jing Wen murmured, slowly curling his fingers. As he did so, the scales on his arms abruptly sharpened into view, even producing a metallic scraping sound.

He inspected his dantian, his brow creasing slightly. The once-abundant spiritual power of his Burning Blood Art was now almost exhausted, with only enough left to support his breakthrough to the eleventh layer.

At the same time, his cultivation had indeed fallen.

"Interesting." Jing Wen suddenly sneered, gathering a mass of ink-black baleful qi in his palm.

Although his cultivation appeared to have regressed, this mass of baleful qi was far more condensed than before.

With a thought, he transformed it into dozens of black needles as fine as ox hairs, which darted nimbly around his fingertips.

He casually retrieved the jade bottle of Blood Pills from his Storage Bag and gave it an idle shake.

Seeing no change in the Blood Pills, he scoffed and tossed it back into the bag.

These Blood Pills, which ordinary cult members treasured like priceless jewels, were merely commonplace items in his eyes.

"It's been a month. Time to head out." Jing Wen rose, his bones crackling crisply throughout his body.

He took out a brand-new black robe and draped it over himself, concealing the faintly visible scales on his arms.

Dawn was breaking, and a thin mist shrouded the Capital.

Jing Wen walked along the bluestone road, still wet with morning dew, toward Still Garden.

Upon entering Still Garden, he saw mortal guards and attendants bustling everywhere. They hurried about carrying objects or sweeping courtyards, yet not a single cultivator was in sight.

Cultivators normally came and went through Still Garden, so its unusual "quiet" today surprised Jing Wen a little. Still, he did not linger and headed straight for the main hall.

As soon as he entered the main hall, he spotted Steward Li.

Today, Steward Li wore a brand-new brocade robe. His face was wreathed in smiles, and delight radiated from him; he was plainly in excellent spirits.

Jing Wen's gaze shifted as he keenly detected the fluctuations in Steward Li's aura. It seems Steward Li has already reached the eleventh layer of qi refining.

On reflection, this was only reasonable. Last time, he had given Steward Li three bottles of precious Golden Marrow Pills. Together with the Blood Pills obtained during the previous blood sacrifice, those resources made his breakthrough to the eleventh layer of qi refining unsurprising.

Steward Li looked up at Jing Wen, his smile broadening. He nodded approvingly and said, "Not bad. You've already reached the qi refining sixth layer."

His tone suggested that he was thoroughly pleased with Jing Wen's progress.

"I came specifically to report my cultivation progress, Steward." Jing Wen deliberately suppressed his aura to the sixth layer of qi refining, a grateful expression on his face.

"It was only thanks to the extra ten percent of Blood Pills you gave me last time that I could make this breakthrough."

Steward Li stroked his beard in satisfaction. "Very good. Breaking through two layers in such a short time shows that you've truly put your heart into it."

A sharp gleam flashed in his eyes. "Since you've reached the sixth layer of qi refining, you're now qualified to join the Hunting Squad."

Jing Wen accepted with feigned delight.

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, he bowed and took his leave.

Outside the main hall, Jing Wen looked up at the blazing sun hanging high overhead. Its scorching light poured down without restraint, making him narrow his eyes slightly.

In the sunlight, strange scale patterns flickered into view on his arms beneath his black robe.

Just then, Ge Hong rushed around a corner, his hurried footsteps kicking up dust.

Recognizing him, Jing Wen's tense expression eased slightly. Only when Ge Hong drew closer did he see the beads of sweat covering his forehead and the urgency in his expression.

Ge Hong looked Jing Wen up and down, astonishment filling his eyes. He rubbed them hard and looked again, only to find that he could no longer discern Jing Wen's cultivation at all. He could not help blurting out, "Congratulations, Brother Jing Wen! Your cultivation has advanced tremendously!"

Envy overflowed from his voice.

Jing Wen wore a modest expression and waved a hand lightly. "Just good luck. I've only just reached the qi refining sixth layer."

A trace of envy flashed through Ge Hong's eyes as he grumbled inwardly, Having pills to help really makes a difference. Cultivating that fast is as easy as eating and drinking.

Jing Wen did not dwell on his cultivation and instead asked, "How did the joint operation last time go?"

Ge Hong's expression turned serious. "Quite well. Our Stronghold captured a cultivator at the qi refining seventh layer.

"That takes care of the basic requirement for our next blood sacrifice."

Jing Wen understood. No wonder Steward Li had been in such high spirits today: his cultivation breakthrough and the completed assignment had brought him a double dose of joy.

Ge Hong suddenly leaned closer and pulled Jing Wen aside. Looking tense, he lowered his voice. "When I heard you'd come to Still Garden, I knew you were out of seclusion. I came specifically to find you."

Something stirred in Jing Wen's heart, and he had an inkling of what this meant. Unable to hide his delight, he asked, "You have news?"

Ge Hong nodded emphatically and said urgently, "During a fight between two mortal gangs, an expert suddenly appeared. Apparently, blades and spears couldn't hurt him, and he could injure people from a distance..."

Jing Wen nodded slightly. In the mortal world, martial artists who could train to the point of being impervious to blades and spears were as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns.

Ge Hong continued, "I didn't go to look myself. If he's skilled in reconnaissance techniques, I might beat the grass and startle the snake. So I came to find you right away."

The Black Fiend Cult had a strict rule: the Reconnaissance Squad was forbidden from carrying out hunting missions alone.

In the past, plenty of Reconnaissance Squad members had acted on their own out of eagerness to claim credit, only for most of them to be killed by their intended prey.

Once an operation failed and an opportunity was wasted, the Stronghold's development would suffer severely.

Even if a Reconnaissance Squad member captured a target alone, the contribution points awarded remained fixed, with no additional reward.

The rule was indeed sensible, preventing both premature alerts and reckless risks by reconnaissance personnel.

As Ge Hong spoke, he pulled Jing Wen toward the exit, still muttering, "Go take a look first. If you can't handle him, we'll have to notify Steward Li quickly and gather reinforcements.

"Still, since he's mingling with mortal gangs, he probably isn't at late qi refining, and he most likely doesn't have any companions either."

Looking solemn, Jing Wen nodded slightly in agreement with Ge Hong's assessment.

The two hurried along, their figures soon disappearing down the sun-scorched path.

Inside Wangjiang Tower, the Capital's most luxurious and imposing establishment, a grand victory banquet for a martial-world gang was in full swing.

The restaurant's main hall glittered with lavish decorations. Festive red silk hung among carved beams and painted pillars, while dozens of round tables laden with exquisite dishes were packed with the gang's core members.

They wore various kinds of martial attire, swords and sabers at their waists gleaming coldly. Yet at this moment, every eye was fixed on an elderly man in his fifties or sixties.

The old man wore a dark purple brocade robe. Though time had carved weathered wrinkles into his face, his eyes held the sharpness and authority of someone who had endured the storms of the martial world.

One after another, the core members approached him with wine cups in hand, their faces plastered with smiles. They competed to toast him with utmost deference, praise pouring from their mouths like a barrage of cannon fire:

"Ah, if you hadn't been here, we'd have been served up for free to those bastards from the White Tiger Gang today!"

"The moment you struck, you sent them tumbling, men and horses alike! What a majestic sight-it set our blood boiling!"

"Only thanks to Elder Bai's intervention could we crush the White Tiger Gang today!"

"Elder Bai's martial prowess is unmatched! You truly are a man among immortals!"

Elder Bai sat in the seat of honor, his head high and chest out, a faintly smug smile on his face. Nodding slightly, he accepted each cup and drained it, basking in their adulation and flattery.

In the Cultivation World, there was a cruel, ironclad rule: anyone who failed to reach foundation establishment by sixty would essentially have no hope of doing so in their lifetime.

The reason was closely tied to a person's blood and vitality.

Once a person passed sixty, their blood and vitality began to decline, like the sun sinking beyond the western hills.

Elder Bai had stumbled along the path of cultivation, and by sixty, he had not even reached late qi refining.

Disheartened, he had resolutely left the Cultivation World, intending to enjoy a different sort of life among mortals while establishing a foundation for his own family.

Shortly after entering the Capital, a chance encounter had drawn him into this gang conflict. He had decided to use it as a starting point to carve out a new realm for himself in the mortal world.

Listening to the endless flattery around him, Elder Bai could not help letting his imagination roam, sketching a magnificent vision of his future happiness:

His family's influence would grow steadily, its mighty reputation spreading throughout the Capital and even the entire martial world. Everyone would revere and admire him, and he would enjoy boundless wealth and glory...

But just as he immersed himself in this beautiful dream, disaster struck.

With a whoosh, a dark shadow shot through the window like lightning, heading straight for the back of the old man's head.

Before anyone could see what had happened, a muffled thunk rang out. A stone-like object struck Elder Bai squarely in the back of the head.

Without so much as a grunt, Elder Bai went limp and toppled from his chair onto the floor, unconscious.

"Ah!" "What happened?"

In an instant, the entire hall descended into chaos. People screamed in terror and fled in every direction.

Some panicked and knocked over tables and chairs, sending cups, plates, and bowls crashing to the floor with sharp shattering sounds;

Others drew their weapons and scanned their surroundings warily, trying to locate the attacker;

Still others were so frightened that they simply collapsed on the floor, their faces pale as paper.

Just then, Jing Wen and Ge Hong appeared like phantoms at the hall's entrance.

Ge Hong wore close-fitting black attire and a belt embroidered with golden patterns, from which hung a conspicuous Embroidery Guard Token.

His expression was stern, his eyes icy as he coldly swept his gaze over everyone in the hall. His voice carried the bone-piercing chill of a north wind in deepest winter. "The Embroidery Guard is conducting an investigation. Anyone uninvolved, get the hell out!"

At the words "Embroidery Guard," everyone's legs began trembling involuntarily, as though they had heard a spell demanding their lives.

The petty lackeys who normally swaggered through the martial world had lost every trace of their bravado. Abandoning armor and helmets, they scrambled and crawled toward the door.

In the blink of an eye, only a handful of people remained in the formerly bustling hall.

The gang leader's face turned ashen with fright. His legs buckled, and he dropped to his knees with a thud, kowtowing incessantly as he begged, "Spare us, sir! Please spare us!

"We had eyes but failed to recognize Mount Tai! We didn't know you were coming, sir. Please show mercy and spare us!"

Ge Hong frowned deeply, staring in disgust at the kneeling gang leader. His icy voice rang out again. "I told you to get out. Don't you understand? Seems you don't want to leave!"

Hearing this, the gang leader felt as though he had been granted a pardon. Only then did he realize that he, too, was allowed to leave.

At that moment, "get out" was no humiliation to him, but a straw to clutch at for salvation.

He hastily repeated, "I'll get out right now! Right now..."

As he spoke, he clambered to his feet on all fours and stumbled toward the door. His wretched appearance bore no resemblance to the tyrant who normally lorded it over his gang.

Ge Hong's only goal this time was to capture someone, not cause a major disturbance, so he did not deliberately trouble these mortals.

Meanwhile, the stone that had struck the old man quietly returned to Jing Wen's hand.

This was no ordinary stone, but a mid-grade magical artifact Jing Wen had obtained by chance last time.

Its utterly unremarkable appearance made it particularly useful for concealing his actions during covert operations, which was why Jing Wen had deliberately kept it.

Jing Wen turned his wrist, and the Storage Bag at Elder Bai's waist fell into his palm as though drawn by an invisible thread.

He brushed his fingertips over the bag's opening, sensing the faint fluctuations of spiritual power within. His lips curved into a satisfied smile.

"I'll leave the cleanup to you." Jing Wen's tone was level, yet carried an unquestionable authority.

"You'll get twenty percent of the contribution points this time."

At these words, Ge Hong's eyes instantly blazed with greed.

Even the wrinkles on his face smoothed out in his wild delight.

Rubbing his hands together, he leaned forward unconsciously, his voice trembling with excitement. "Of course! No problem at all! Brother Jing Wen, you can put every last worry to rest!"

Then, as though afraid Jing Wen might change his mind, he hastily added, "I guarantee everything will be cleaned up thoroughly. Not the slightest thread of a clue will remain!"

Jing Wen nodded slightly and said no more.

His black robe flared as he turned and left.