Just as everything was ready, two drowsy Fatui agents emerged from the domain.
One of them grumbled, "Ugh, why do we always get stuck with the graveyard shift?"
"No kidding… just got to sleep, then got dragged up again," the other mumbled, slumping against a nearby rock wall to doze off.
Shao Yun was baffled at the sight. This is the mighty Fatui that terrorizes the continent? A couple of third-rate thugs?
He turned to the group behind him and said, "I'll go first. Let me take care of these two, then we move in."
With that, he casually walked forward.
The Fatui agent sitting on the ground jumped up the moment he saw a masked man approaching. He drew a silver sword from his waist and pointed it at him.
"Hey! Who are you?"
Shao Yun, surprisingly, showed no sign of aggression. Instead, he greeted them kindly.
"Good evening. I'm just a friendly passerby, checking if you need any help."
A masked man in the middle of nowhere, claiming to be a friendly citizen? Even the most gullible in Mondstadt wouldn't buy that—let alone the Fatui.
"Get lost, you bastard! This is Fatui territory!"
Shao Yun pretended not to hear the insult and asked again, voice calm.
"Sorry, what did you just call me?"
The Fatui soldier sneered and raised his sword.
"I said, you little—"
Bang!
Shao Yun drew his revolver in a flash—without even activating his Deadeye—and fired.
The gunshot echoed across the plains. The Fatui's body buckled as if his bones had been ripped out, collapsing instantly. He twitched a few times before blood soaked through his chest and stained the earth beneath him.
Even without Deadeye, Shao Yun's reflexes were too fast for anyone to track, especially a grunt who didn't even want to be on guard duty.
The second soldier stood frozen, eyes wide as saucers, completely stunned by the sudden violence.
He stared at the revolver in Shao Yun's hand, too terrified even to think about running.
First time in his life he'd seen someone so ruthless—a single insult, and the guy just shot his comrade.
Shao Yun calmly turned the revolver on him, voice low and menacing. "Don't move."
That was enough to break what little nerve the man had left. He trembled, knees giving way beneath him, and collapsed into a pitiful heap.
Tears welled up in his eyes. His whole body quaked with terror and hopelessness.
Shao Yun stepped closer, gun never wavering. With his free hand, he grabbed the man by the throat and lifted him off the ground.
"The Holy Lyre der Himmel—where is it?"
"Ahh—" The man croaked unintelligibly, face turning purple within seconds.
Realizing choking wouldn't get answers, Shao Yun dropped him. The man fell hard, gasping for breath—only to find the barrel of a revolver pressed to his temple.
"You saw what happened to your friend. I won't ask a third time. Where is the Holy Lyre?"
"I-it's inside!" the terrified Fatui stammered, pointing to the domain entrance. "The camp has two defensive lines! That's all I know, I swear!"
Shao Yun holstered the revolver and knocked him out cold with a clean punch to the face.
Then he waved toward the group hidden in the bushes.
"Let's go."
As they passed the domain entrance, they all got a clear view of the fallen and unconscious Fatui.
Only Lumine and Paimon looked slightly disturbed. The rest remained unfazed.
Inside the domain, the so-called "Fatui Camp" was laughably basic—just some tents pitched deep within the ruins, using open chambers as dorms, cells, and storerooms.
The first line of defense was a mechanical drawbridge—one that wasn't even made by the Fatui, but had existed since the domain's creation.
Somehow, they'd even filled the pit beneath with lava—stagnant and likely transported from who-knows-where.
The lava had already cooled and turned black in places.
The mechanism was busted from age and barely functioned. It was more of a glorified plank now.
Everyone crossed it easily. At most, it might slow down a Hilichurl or a stray elemental beast.
Beyond the bridge and up a staircase was the second line of defense.
It was more like a guard post, manned by a single Fatui agent.
Shao Yun motioned for the others to wait—he'd handle this one too.
He strode confidently toward the guard, who reacted much like the first: frozen in fear, barely able to speak.
"W-Who are you?!"
Shao Yun looked down at the man's trembling hand clutching a rusty sword, his whole frame shaking like a lamb facing a starving wolf.
Not even worth a bullet.
Each step Shao Yun took forward, the man shivered harder.
"D-don't come closer, or I'll cut you!" he squeaked, swinging his dull blade.
The swing was so slow it might as well have been in slow motion. Shao Yun kicked him square in the chest.
"Ugh!"
The guard fell to the ground, hands raised in feeble defense.
"Your buddy's dead. Want to live? Tell me where the Holy Lyre is!"
Faced with the prospect of death, the man blurted everything he knew—like a broken dam.
"Our camp has thirty people! Four women, twenty-six men! I'm twenty, from Snezhnaya! When I was little, I had a crush on my neighbor's wife—"
Shao Yun's palm cracked across his face with a loud smack, drawing blood and swelling the man's cheek instantly.
"I asked about the Holy Lyre, not your life story! You spew one more bit of garbage, and I'll show you what suffering really means!"
The dazed Fatui clutched his bruised face, eyes wide with terror. Finally understanding the seriousness of the situation, he stammered out a real answer.
"It's on the second floor of the main hall—in the artifact storage! It's locked, and I don't know who has the key, honest!"
With that, Shao Yun gestured for the rest to join him.
To the terrified guard, it looked like a whole gang of masked executioners had just been summoned by the masked devil who beat him.
They resembled the dreaded debt collectors—each face hidden, each movement sharp and silent.
Shao Yun could've killed him without losing any Reputation, but he figured there was no need to kill a compliant one.
Just as Shao Yun was about to rejoin the others, the previously submissive Fatui suddenly stood up, pointing at him and shouting:
"Don't get cocky! We have a Harbinger stationed here in Mondstadt! The Lady will find you, and she'll make you suffer!"
He turned to run.
You fool. I spared you, and now you tempt fate? Want to die that badly?
Shao Yun sighed, turned, and fired—one shot to the leg.
He caught up to the screaming Fatui, crouched down, and lightly tapped his face with the revolver.
"I let you go—and this is how you act? What is it with you people and your suicidal pride?"
Grabbing him like a sack of garbage, Shao Yun growled, "You've annoyed me. Congratulations—you're our hostage now. Come help us find the key."
He dragged the man toward the makeshift Fatui base, repurposed from the domain's central hall.
When he found Lumine and the others gathered around, they explained their plan: quietly search each room, one by one.
"That's way too slow. Stand back—watch me work."
He tossed the hostage to the floor, stomped on his head, then fired a shot into the ceiling.
Taking a deep breath, his chest rose as he bellowed:
"EVERYONE GET OUT HERE! YOU BASTARDS—WAKE THE SLEEPING ONES AND ASSEMBLE!"
His voice crashed through the hall like thunder, rumbling through every corner of the domain. It almost felt like the ruins might collapse under the volume.
Lumine and the others covered their ears. His voice wasn't much quieter than Dvalin's roar.
Startled and confused, Fatui members emerged from their rest areas, all eyes locking on Shao Yun.
"Gather in the hall—hands on your heads, squat down!"
Before the last word had even faded, a debt collector-style Fatui leapt down from the second floor. He said nothing, simply drew his twin blades and assumed a combat stance.
"Intruders! Die!"
He lunged, body low to the ground, blades flashing.
The Fatui, realizing the group were enemies, rallied behind him, preparing for battle.
Bang!
The debt collector suddenly jerked as a bullet tore into him.
Shao Yun stood still, revolver raised. No one saw when he fired—only the smoking barrel told the tale.
Shao Yun eyed the man calmly. He's tough—still standing after a shot like that. Probably got a second or two left.
Sure enough, after a few moments, the man looked down.
Blood poured from a neat hole in his chest.
His vision blurred. Strength drained from his limbs. He collapsed—dead.
The remaining Fatui stared in horror.
That was a Debt Collector—one of the Fatui's elite operatives.
If he couldn't survive a single shot, what chance did the rest of them have—especially without armor?
In seconds, all resistance vanished. They scrambled to the center of the hall, squatted down, and put their hands over their heads.