The lacquer box's lid opened all the way.
No evil ghost lunged out.
No poisonous mist billowed forth.
A jade cicada lay quietly inside the box.
It was blood-red from head to toe, crystal clear, as if carved from the purest agate. Its wings were as thin as cicada wings—a description that had never been more accurate—and he could even make out the fine, intricate patterns on them.
Chen Mo didn't reach for it right away.
His Courier's Instinct was screaming like crazy.
This wasn't a warning of danger. It was a deeper kind of shudder, as if something had fixed its gaze on his soul.
"System, what is this?"
[Scanning...]
[Scan failed.]
[Warning: This item was not found in the Three Realms Express database.]
[Warning: High-level causal-law fluctuation detected.]
[Emergency recommendation: Host, close the box immediately, retreat three steps, and call for backup.]
Chen Mo gave a bitter laugh.
"I'd love to retreat."
"But it seems... it doesn't want me to leave."
The moment he finished speaking, the blood-jade cicada suddenly moved.
Its wings trembled once.
Then, under Chen Mo's stare, it slowly turned its head—if that rounded front end could be called a "head"—and two golden points of light appeared on the jade cicada's head, like a pair of eyes opening.
Chen Mo turned and ran.
He leaped onto his bicycle and pedaled with all his might.
"Bzzzz—"
Before the netherfire engine could even fully start up, the jade cicada had already transformed into a streak of blood-red light. Moving too fast for the naked eye to follow, it shot straight into the back of Chen Mo's head.
"Urgh—!"
Chen Mo and the bicycle went tumbling.
His forehead slammed hard against the bluestone pavement, and warm liquid ran down along his brow.
But strangely enough, it didn't hurt.
Or rather, the physical pain was rendered insignificant, washed away by another sensation far more immense.
Countless images exploded in his mind—
A massive bronze gate.
A savage-looking character, "Rogue," was carved into it.
Countless figures knelt before the gate. They wore courier uniforms similar to Chen Mo's, but theirs were a dead gray-white.
A hand reached out through the crack in the gate.
That hand was impossibly huge—so huge it blotted out the sky and sun, so huge it seemed capable of crushing the entire world.
A voice whispered into Chen Mo's ear:
"Courier No. 9,742,001..."
"You delivered it to the wrong place."
"That Three-Lives Stone Fragment..."
"Was supposed to be delivered to Yellow Springs Station."
The image shattered abruptly.
Chen Mo's eyes flew open. He found himself still lying in the alley.
The bicycle had fallen to the side, its wheel spinning freely.
A searing pain came from the back of his hand.
He looked down and saw a mark on the inside of his wrist—a blood-red jade cicada, so lifelike it seemed ready to spread its wings and fly away at any moment.
[Emergency alert!]
[Host has been marked by Rogue Logistics!]
[Mark name: Rogue Mark.]
[Effect: Unknown.]
[Consequence: Extremely dangerous.]
[The system is attempting to remove the mark... Removal failed.]
[This mark's level is higher than the current system permissions.]
Chen Mo's heart sank.
"What do you mean... Rogue Logistics?"
[Three Realms Express is a legitimate logistics network recognized by the Heavenly Dao.]
[Rogue Logistics is an unrecognized gray-market network.]
[According to rumor, Rogue Logistics specializes in intercepting, tampering with, and destroying legitimate packages for profit.]
[Note: Members of Rogue Logistics are also known as "ghost runners"—not the ghost runners of the Underworld Bureau, but "agents of ghostly skulduggery."]
Chen Mo struggled to his feet.
He had to get out of here.
Now.
But the exits at both ends of the alley darkened at the same time.
It wasn't that the streetlights had gone out.
The light was being swallowed by something.
Two masses of pure darkness slowly surged in from the alley mouths. Wherever they passed, the moss on the walls withered and fell away, and even the air grew murky and heavy.
The darkness condensed into shape.
Two humanoid silhouettes.
They had no facial features and wore no clothing. Their entire bodies looked as if they'd been cast from the thickest ink. Each held a long, narrow blade. The blades were equally black, yet they reflected the moonlight in an eerie sheen.
["Sweeper" detected.]
[An enforcement unit under Rogue Logistics, specializing in eliminating "marked anomalous targets."]
[Combat assessment: Each unit possesses roughly the strength of a seventh-level Qi Refining cultivator.]
[Host's current combat strength: Qi Refining... not yet initiated.]
[Win probability calculation: 0.003%.]
[Recommendation: Close your eyes. You will die with more dignity.]
"...This system of yours is pretty funny."
Chen Mo gritted his teeth, his back pressed tightly against the wall.
Both Sweepers raised their blades at the same time.
No dialogue.
No threats.
Only pure, mechanical killing intent.
The blades came down.
"Clang—!"
A crisp ring echoed through the alley.
Chen Mo hadn't died.
He opened his eyes and found something in his hand that hadn't been there a moment ago— the bottle of Meng Po's Soup: Sample Edition that Meng Po had given him.
The bottle had blocked the blade.
Or rather, the moment the Sweeper's blade touched the bottle, it seemed to encounter its natural nemesis and recoiled violently.
For the first time, hesitation appeared in the movements of the two Sweepers.
They both took a step back.
Chen Mo stared at the porcelain bottle in his hand, and a flash of inspiration struck him.
"Meng Po's Soup... lets me see what I'm supposed to see?"
Without the slightest hesitation, he pulled out the stopper, tipped his head back, and gulped it down.
The taste was unexpectedly... not bad.
A little like osmanthus wine, with a faint, indescribably cool sensation.
Then the world changed.
In Chen Mo's vision, the two Sweepers were no longer nothing more than humanoid shapes made of darkness.
"Threads" appeared across their bodies.
Countless fine, faintly glowing strands extended from within them, connecting to every corner of the alley—the cracks in the walls, the ground, the drainage outlets.
And at each of their chests was one especially thick red thread.
The end of each red thread connected to the hand holding its blade.
"Those are... their weak points?"
Chen Mo had no idea how he knew.
But he knew.
Just as fish knew how to swim and birds knew how to fly, this kind of "seeing" was an instinct he possessed by nature at this moment.
The Sweeper on the left lunged again.
Chen Mo didn't retreat.
He snatched up the bicycle from the ground and, with all his strength, swung it at the red thread.
"Boom!"
The bicycle passed through the Sweeper's body and struck the red thread with pinpoint accuracy.
The Sweeper's movements abruptly froze.
The next second, it silently burst apart like a popped balloon, transforming into black ash that filled the air.
Seeing this, the other Sweeper turned and ran.
"Trying to run?"
Chen Mo mounted the bicycle. This Three Realms Special Bicycle really was sturdy—he'd slammed it into something and it hadn't even broken. The netherfire engine roared, and ghostly blue flames ignited around the wheels.
"You weren't thinking about running when you tried to cut me down."
The bicycle shot forward.
The front of the bike slammed into the red thread at the back of the Sweeper's heart.
The second Sweeper was reduced to ash.
Silence returned to the alley.
Chen Mo collapsed onto the ground, bracing both hands on his knees as he gasped for breath.
The effect of Meng Po's Soup was fading. Those wondrous "threads" gradually vanished from his vision.
The Rogue Mark on his wrist radiated a faint heat, as if mocking his lucky break.
[Battle concluded.]
[Defeated "Sweepers" ×2.]
[Reward: 50 nether coins, 1 Rogue Logistics intel fragment.]
[Congratulations, Host, on completing your first out-of-level kill.]
[Title unlocked: "Death-Wish Courier."]
[Title effect: When facing a high-level enemy, the enemy will experience a brief moment of confusion—"Is this guy crazy?"]
Chen Mo stared at the title, unsure whether he should laugh or cry.
"What is this supposed to be..."
"Encouragement to keep trying to get myself killed?"
A voice came from above his head.
"Not bad, rookie."
"You've been on the job for only three days and you've already gotten on Rogue Logistics' bad side, then taken out two Sweepers."
"Even I wasn't as good at stirring up trouble as you were back in my day."
Chen Mo jerked his head up.
At some point, a young man had appeared sitting on the wall on one side of the alley.
The young man wore a golden courier uniform similar in style to Chen Mo's, but the material was clearly of a much higher quality, its surface gleaming faintly in the moonlight. He casually tossed a token in one hand, producing a clear "ding-ding" whenever it struck his palm.
"You are..."
The young man leaped down from the wall, moving as lightly as a cat.
He landed in front of Chen Mo and held out a hand.
"Yellow Springs Station. Gold-Rank Courier."
"Number: One."
"You can call me..."
He grinned, revealing a row of white teeth.
"Big Bro One."