Jiang Dao kept his face a carefully constructed mask of neutrality, a placid lake over a churning depth. "And the cause of death?" he pressed, his voice low and even. "How, exactly, did they die?"
A storm of emotions crossed Yang Xu's face—a battle between loyalty and fear. He glanced around the empty room as if the walls themselves might be listening before leaning in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I wrote to your father about this, so you know our world isn't as simple as it seems. You've heard the whispers, the stories of… things. Fierce Ghouls, Evil Spirits. We know one of them killed our Hall Masters. What we don't know is which."
"Explain," Jiang Dao said, the single word cutting through the tension.
Yang Xu let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for days. "It all happened ten nights ago. The leadership had a meeting at headquarters that ran late, well into the dead of night. The two Hall Masters left around the third watch. That's when it happened." He paused, the memory still raw. "The men inside only heard a single, strangled scream. By the time they stormed out, it was already a slaughterhouse. Both masters were… well, they weren't whole anymore. It was like they'd been put through a meat grinder, hacked to pieces by a thousand invisible blades. Their elite bodyguards, too. Every last one of them, gone. The courtyard was painted red, flesh and bone scattered like confetti. Not a single complete body left."
The horror of the scene was palpable in Yang Xu's voice, a tremor of pure dread that even a hardened gangster couldn't conceal.
Jiang Dao's eyes narrowed to slits. "So you have no idea what did it."
"None," Yang Xu confirmed, shaking his head. "But we know it wasn't human. It was something ancient, something powerful, and something our Blazing Flame Gang has no business crossing. In the world of men, we're a force to be reckoned with, a power in the Southern Daye Dynasty. But compared to these… creatures?" He gave a bitter laugh. "We're like children playing with wooden swords in the face of a tidal wave. After ten days of finding nothing but dead ends and growing fear, the Gang Leader called off the investigation. He ordered us to move on, to select new Hall Masters and pretend it never happened."
A cold wave washed over Jiang Dao. He'd come to the Blazing Flame Gang seeking power, a path to the next level of martial arts. Now, he was learning that the entire ladder was built over a bottomless abyss. Whatever had annihilated two masters and their retinue in seconds was an order of magnitude beyond the shadowy fiend he'd faced before. The feeling of being prey, a feeling he'd worked so hard to escape, returned with a vengeance.
"Third Uncle," Jiang Dao began, shifting his focus, "once a man reaches the Divine Strength Realm, is that the end of the path? Is there nothing higher?"
"Honestly, I don't know, Dao'er. My own martial knowledge is shallow. All I know is that masters of the Divine Strength Realm are rarer than phoenix feathers. You could probably count every single one in the entire Daye Dynasty on the fingers of one hand," Yang Xu admitted.
Jiang Dao filed the information away, his mind already moving to the next piece of the puzzle. "One more thing. That bearded brute I dealt with on the road, Guo Biao… right before he died, he claimed to be with the Blazing Flame Gang."
"Impossible!" Yang Xu's denial was instant and absolute. "Our gang's code is ironclad. No one would dare run a side operation like that! It's unthinkable."
But even as he said it, a flicker of doubt crossed his face. His brow furrowed in thought. "Then again…" he murmured, his voice trailing off. "It's not entirely out of the question. A powerful Protector, or even a Hall Master looking to line his pockets, might secretly hire a crew of outsiders, have them pose as common bandits to hit merchant caravans. Plausible deniability."
His eyes snapped up to meet Jiang Dao's, a new urgency in them. "Listen to me, Dao'er. Let this go. Whether Guo Biao was secretly on someone's payroll or not, you know nothing. It's a hornet's nest you don't want to kick. Just let it be."
"I understand," Jiang Dao nodded, his expression unreadable.
Yang Xu gave a few more logistical instructions before taking his leave, leaving Jiang Dao alone with his thoughts.
The next two days were a blur of quiet contemplation. Jiang Dao rarely ventured out, preferring the solitude of his quarters. His longest excursion was a walk to the nearby docks. The city's western district opened up to a massive, sprawling river, a churning artery of commerce that connected the north and south. The air was thick with the smell of fish, damp wood, and the sweat of laborers. Dozens of merchant ships, their sails full, navigated the bustling waterway.
In a different world, a peaceful world like the one from his fragmented memories of a past life, a man with his family's connections could have lived a life of luxury here. But this world wasn't peaceful. This world had shadows that devoured men. It had Ghouls and Spirits that could erase a lifetime of martial training in the blink of an eye.
The two days vanished. On the third morning, Yang Xu appeared at his door with two powerful horses. The air was crisp as they rode, their destination the heart of the beast: the Blazing Flame Gang's headquarters.
"Our headquarters is in the south of the city," Yang Xu explained as they galloped through the waking streets. "It's less of a building and more of a fortress, a city within the city. We spared no expense. Seventy percent of the gang's true power resides within those walls. It's a statement. You'll see."
He was right. After an hour's ride, they were met not by a gate, but by a monolithic stone wall, scarred by time and covered in moss, stretching as far as the eye could see. A single, heavily fortified entrance served as the only way in, flanked by guards in black uniforms. They stood like statues, armed with gleaming sabers and pikes, their eyes sharp and their hands calloused from years of training. These were not common thugs; they were seasoned warriors.
"A private fortress in the middle of the city," Jiang Dao observed, impressed despite himself. "And the imperial government simply allows this?"
Yang Xu chuckled, a cynical sound. "The Emperor's throne is a long way from here, and the court is more interested in gold than in governance. As long as the tribute flows north, they let us manage our own affairs. Besides, the Dynasty is rotting from the inside out. Their grip on the provinces weakens every year. Someday, the whole rotten structure might collapse. They have bigger problems to worry about than us."
"I see," Jiang Dao murmured, a new understanding of the world's power dynamics clicking into place.
Inside the walls, the atmosphere changed. The energy was electric. They navigated a series of courtyards and corridors before emerging into a vast central plaza. It was a cauldron of noise and tension. Hundreds of men, at least five or six hundred, were gathered, their voices a low hum beneath dozens of fluttering crimson banners. The perimeter was a forest of steel—racks of swords, spears, and halberds that glinted coldly in the morning sun.
At the center of it all was a massive elevated stage. And on that stage, a man sat enthroned.
He was in his late fifties, his presence as immense as the fortress itself. Dressed in a flowing red robe, with a thick mane of jet-black hair, he had a physique that spoke of incredible power. His hands and feet were broad, his shoulders wide, and his gaze was sharp and predatory. He wasn't just sitting; he was reigning, an old lion surveying his pride.
Flanking him were three other men, each a pillar of power in his own right: one in white, one in green, one in black. Their auras were only marginally less potent than the man in red. Below them, rows of chairs were filled with the gang's elite—every single one a master with a palpable aura of strength.
The moment Jiang Dao stepped into the plaza, he felt the Gang Leader's eyes on him. It was a physical force, a piercing gaze that seemed to weigh and measure him. Jiang Dao felt his muscles tense.
This man is dangerous. Stronger than me.
It was the first time since perfecting his craft that he had faced someone and known, unequivocally, that he was outmatched.
"Dao'er, bow to the Gang Leader!" Yang Xu hissed, nudging him forward. He quickly bowed low. "Subordinate Yang Xu pays his respects to the Gang Leader!"
Jiang Dao followed suit, lowering his head.
"So, Yang Xu," the leader's voice boomed, rich and powerful, "this is the prodigy you've brought me? The one called Jiang Dao?"
The connection between them was instantaneous, a spark of recognition between two apex predators. The Gang Leader's initial curiosity sharpened into genuine surprise. The boy is barely twenty, he thought, how can his foundation be so terrifyingly deep?
"Yes, Gang Leader. This is Jiang Dao, my cousin's son. His background is clean, and his loyalty is assured," Yang Xu replied, a proud smile on his face.
"Excellent," the Gang Leader, Fang Tianba, declared, a slow smile spreading across his face. "A true young hero has come to us."
The praise, however, was not universally welcomed. From the side, a series of dismissive snorts cut through the air. Jiang Dao's gaze flickered to a group standing a short distance away. There were about a dozen of them—men and women of all shapes and sizes, all radiating hostility. They were his competition, and they were not impressed.
"Pay them no mind," Yang Xu whispered urgently. "Focus."
Jiang Dao tore his eyes away, but another challenge was already coming.
"Jiang Dao," a cool voice called out. It was the man in the green shirt, one of the three lieutenants seated beside Fang Tianba. "I am told you killed the bandit known as Guo Biao. You did this alone? With no assistance?"
"That is the Left Protector, Guo Linyu," Yang Xu supplied in a hushed tone.
"Yes," Jiang Dao answered, his voice ringing clear across the plaza. "I killed him myself."
"Curious," Guo Linyu said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "My sources say Guo Biao commanded hundreds of skilled fighters, experts with all manner of weapons. Are you saying you alone carved through them all? Or were they merely for decoration?"
A hush fell over the crowd. This was a direct challenge.
Jiang Dao didn't even blink. "They were an inconvenience," he stated, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. "One removes an inconvenience. There is nothing more to say."
"An inconvenience," Guo Linyu repeated, a tight, humorless smile on his face as he began to slowly clap. "Well said." But deep in his eyes, a flicker of cold fury betrayed his calm demeanor.
"Enough," Fang Tianba's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Everyone is here. We have two Hall Master positions to fill and eleven candidates. The selection will be simple: trial by combat. The format will be king-of-the-hill. To earn a position, a man must hold this stage and win five consecutive duels. Weapons are not merciful, and neither are we. The contest begins now."