The sun disappeared completely behind the gray, somber yin-yang-tiled rooftops of the Imperial Capital, giving way to darkness as it swallowed everything in its path.
Inside the shabby room, Qin Yan slowly wound strips of cloth tightly around his left shoulder and both wrists. He put his black leather armor back on and draped a thin straw cloak over it to conceal the unusual bulges beneath.
He knew perfectly well that Hong Tu Coc was a deadly trap tonight. Zhao, the Hundred-Household Commander, would never kindly invite some lowly Black-Clad Envoy to a feast. He had summoned Qin Yan there for one of two reasons: either to probe how much he knew about the abandoned-temple case, or to find an opportunity to silently strangle him and eliminate a future threat.
But Qin Yan had no intention of walking into the tiger's den empty-handed.
Just now, when the System assessed the destination's danger level as extreme, a blood-red notification had appeared in his mindscape:
[The Life-and-Death Mission chain has been activated: The Red Gate Banquet. The host is entering the lair of a malignant spirit. The System is issuing an Emergency Support Package. (The cost will be deducted from the rewards after the mission is completed.) Received: 3 Lightning-Fire Talismans, 5 Armor-Piercing Bolts.]
Qin Yan hid the three flame-shaped talismans, burning brilliantly, inside the lining of his belt. He slipped the five darts gleaming with icy light into his sleeves. His left hand unconsciously brushed the hilt of the [Soul-Severing Blade], which trembled faintly with bloodlust.
"Let's go. It's time to see who's really the hunter tonight."
Hong Tu Coc lay south of the canal that cut across the Imperial Capital. It was the city's foremost pleasure house. Bright red lanterns hung high overhead, illuminating an entire stretch of river. The languid music of zithers, flutes, and bowed fiddles mingled with the ceaseless laughter and chatter of beautiful women. Elaborately carved sedan chairs streamed in and out, carrying potbellied officials and wealthy merchants with fortunes to spare.
Qin Yan stopped before Hong Tu Coc's jade-arched entrance. The air was saturated with the overpowering scent of cosmetics, mingled with the aroma of premium pepper-flower wine. Two young women in gauzy peach silk halters sashayed over, intending to slip their arms through his.
"My lord, the night's chilly. Come inside and let me warm you up..."
Qin Yan snorted coldly and threw her hand off. At the same time, he quietly circulated his eye power.
[Netherworld Eye—Karmic Gaze activated!]
In the blink of an eye, the luxurious, splendid illusion before Qin Yan was savagely torn apart.
What appeared to be a jade-and-gold pleasure house was, beneath the Judge's gaze, nothing more than a dilapidated lair strewn with human bones. The vermilion-and-gold wooden walls were actually oozing a viscous, blackish-red fluid. The rich fragrance of cosmetics became the stench of rotting corpses, rushing straight into his nose and churning his stomach.
Most disgusting of all were the "young women" lazily draped around the place. Beneath the Karmic Gaze, their tender flesh vanished, revealing their true forms: Succubi, Fox Demons, and Water Ghosts with grotesque bodies. Above each one's head floated a mass of crimson resentment, thick with murderous karma.
This entire Hong Tu Coc... was a colossal demon lair built right in the heart of the Imperial Capital! The officials and wealthy merchants enthusiastically engaged in carnal pleasures inside those rooms were actually being drained of their yang energy by the malignant spirits, their vital essence sucked dry without them realizing it.
Suppressing the urge to vomit, Qin Yan withdrew his eye power and returned to his usual cold expression. He tossed a small ingot of broken silver to the hunched brothel attendant standing at the door. "Which room is Lord Zhao's banquet in? He's from the Nightwalker Bureau."
"Oh my, so you're Lord Zhao's honored guest! He's waiting for you in the Peony private room on the top floor. Please, please, follow me!"
The Peony private room was spacious and completely isolated from the uproar below. The banquet table overflowed with delicacies from land and sea, while fine wine filled the room with fragrant steam. Zhao, the Hundred-Household Commander, wore a dark-purple brocade robe and leaned against a wooden couch, with two beautiful courtesans at his sides massaging his legs and pouring his wine.
"Qin Yan, you've arrived? Come in and sit down." Zhao narrowed his eyes in a smile and waved him over.
"Thank you, my lord." Qin Yan stepped inside cautiously and sat in the chair opposite him. He kept his back straight, both hands on his knees, putting on the nervous air of an insignificant man visiting a place of luxury for the first time.
Zhao waved his hand. The two courtesans immediately understood, sashayed out, and pulled the wooden door firmly shut behind them. Only the two men remained in the room. The atmosphere suddenly became stifling and frighteningly silent.
Zhao personally picked up a silver wine pot, filled a glass cup, and pushed it toward Qin Yan.
"This cup is my toast to you. If you hadn't quietly settled that mess at the abandoned temple, I wouldn't have been able to hold on to my position." He raised his own cup, the corners of his lips lifting into a sinister smile. "Drink. This is Blood Chrysanthemum Wine steeped with a hundred herbs. It's excellent for your injuries."
Qin Yan stared at the blood-red wine. He didn't need the Netherworld Eye. His survival instincts, honed through countless brushes with death, already told him that the cup was deadly poison. One swallow would turn his internal organs into a puddle of slurry.
"What is it? Don't tell me you think my wine isn't good enough?" Zhao's voice turned several degrees colder, and his hand rested lightly on the hilt of the saber at his waist. The pressure of a powerful expert began to radiate outward, bearing down on Qin Yan.
Qin Yan remained silent for several seconds. Then the corners of his lips slowly curled upward, forming an extremely vicious and mocking smile. He tore away the disguise of a lowly, frightened Black-Clad Envoy and hurled it straight into the face of the man opposite him.
"I like good wine. But wine mixed with the blood of the skinned girls from the abandoned temple... I'd sooner let a dog drink it!"
Bang!
Before the words had even left his mouth, Qin Yan suddenly swept his arm out and sent the banquet table flying. Plates, bowls, delicacies, and the pot of poisoned wine clattered through the air before smashing across the floor.
Zhao's pupils contracted violently. He roared furiously, "You bastard! You dare rebel?!"
"Rebel against your ancestral grave!" Qin Yan roared back, murderous intent surging from him in waves. "Zhao the Cur, your crimes have been exposed! You colluded with demons and slaughtered innocent civilians to provide human skins for your heretical cult! Today, I, Qin Yan, pass judgment on you in the name of the Yin-Yang Judge. You are sentenced to death!"
As fast as a streak of black lightning, Qin Yan's left hand yanked the [Soul-Severing Blade] from his waist. The blade carved a gorgeous arc of black light through the air, cleaving straight down toward Zhao's seat.
Zhao was a powerful expert, after all, and his reflexes were exceptionally sharp. He lunged backward while drawing his saber with his right hand to block the strike.
But he had underestimated Qin Yan's resolve—and had no idea the Armor-Piercing Bolts existed.
The instant the blade swung up, five darts shot from Qin Yan's sleeves first. Three slammed into a wooden pillar. The other two, carrying tremendous penetrating force, drove straight into Zhao's right shoulder and shattered the protective qi surrounding him.
His right arm went numb, and the motion of drawing his saber stalled for half a beat.
And half a beat was more than enough for the merciless [Soul-Severing Blade].
Swish!
Fresh blood burst forth like a spring.
"Aaaah!" Zhao's agonized scream tore through the Peony private room. His right arm, still gripping the saber, was cleanly severed at the elbow by Qin Yan. It flew into the wall and crashed to the floor.
Clutching the stump gushing blood, he stumbled backward and slammed into the wooden wall. His eyes fixed on Qin Yan with utter terror and madness. "Kill him! Kill him for me! Skin this little bastard and rip out his tendons!"
Zhao's roar was a trumpet blast signaling the attack.
Crash! Crash! Crash!
The private room's wooden walls were smashed apart from the outside. Hong Tu Coc's luxurious disguise was ripped away completely. The music of zithers, flutes, and bowed fiddles vanished, replaced by the frenzied howls of demons. Dozens of courtesans revealed their true forms as spider monsters, snake spirits, and succubi with razor-sharp claws. They climbed through the windows, charged through the main entrance, and surrounded Qin Yan from every direction.
At the same time, the System's alarm bells rang incessantly in Qin Yan's mindscape, bathing his entire field of vision in crimson:
[S-rank danger warning! Life-and-Death Mission activated: Bloodbath at Hong Tu Coc!] [Objective: Exterminate all malignant spirits and the traitor, Zhao, the Hundred-Household Commander.] [Reward: Receive the Profound-grade Suppression Weapon—Soul-Locking Bone Chain (Red Soul Lock), and 5,000 Judge Points!]
As the horde of demons charged at him, baring their fangs and brandishing their claws, Qin Yan didn't retreat in the slightest. He raised the Soul-Severing Blade to his mouth and extended his tongue to lick away the streak of Zhao's blood still clinging to it. Black light blazed in his Karmic Gaze-filled eyes—the excitement of a butcher stepping into the slaughterhouse.
"You want my life? Let's see who's the feast tonight!" He swung his blade and charged straight into the heart of the demon horde.
The night banquet was over. The slaughter had officially begun.