Chapter 90: The Heavenly Demon Cult Serial Murder Case #5 – No Chinese Allowed, Absolutely Not.

"I went to console my friend after hearing the Peace Pavilion’s barracks had burned down. But when I got back, our Crescent Moonlight Division was on fire! I just… started crying on the spot."

That was the testimony of Shimi Pyeong, one of the few survivors.

Of course, those tears were tears of relief.

After all, he had gone out drinking to cheer up a jobless friend—and that was the only reason he was still alive.

Truly, the saying was right: a little generosity can save your life.

But Seok Humhum, the cold-blooded, impartial investigator of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, wasn't impressed.

"You were supposed to be on duty at that time. And yet, you were out drinking?"

"H-how did you—"

"There was another survivor. Someone who had stepped away to use the latrine. He testified that the sentry post was completely abandoned. No wonder the enemy got in so easily."

Seok Humhum’s gaze turned sharp.

"As a senior investigator, I will now issue an on-site judgment. Deserting your post enabled the enemy’s attack, making you guilty of aiding them. Your sentence is death."

"W-wait, Investigator! Please!"

"Don’t take it too personally. The warrior who was hiding in the latrine has also been sentenced to death for desertion. You’ll be hanged side by side."

"Investigator! This is unfair! The squad leader was drinking while on duty—everyone does it! How can you execute me for something so trivial!? Investigator! Investigator!"

"You truly don’t understand your crime?"

"What the hell else is a sentry supposed to do besides drink!? You think I should stand there all night awake like some new recruit, staring at an empty road, waiting for an enemy that’ll never come!? That’s the kind of thing only first-year rookies do!"

Shimi Pyeong was truly indignant.

It was common knowledge that a veteran squad leader with over five years of service was entitled to drink while on guard duty.

But Seok Humhum only shook his head.

This was exactly how things fell apart.

Pointless hierarchy, hazing, negligent leadership.

Even a decent warrior could be warped into thinking this was normal.

Seok Humhum stepped out of the holding cell and gave a final order.

"The dungeons—wait. We don’t have dungeons anymore. Just execute them immediately and hang the bodies in the streets."

"Yes, Investigator."

The response was overly polite.

Understandable—because Seok Humhum was the most feared investigator in the entire cult.

His arrest rate didn’t just reach 100%—it soared to an unbelievable 420%.

For every ten cases he investigated, he not only caught all ten culprits but somehow found thirty-two additional criminals along the way.

No one knew exactly who those extra criminals were.

But since they had interfered with the investigation, they had been executed on the spot before anyone could find out.

Even under the most brutal torture, these obstructors of justice had insisted they were the true culprits—deliberately misleading the investigation with obvious lies.

Which, of course, only added contempt of court to their list of offenses.

Seok Humhum muttered to himself as he left.

"This is no ordinary opponent. A cunning mind, a bold strategy. They read our expectations and struck where no one expected."

The day after the Peace Pavilion’s barracks burned down, the same culprit struck again.

This time, they targeted the Windfire Squad, a battle unit under the Outer Hall.

And the very next day, they struck yet again—using the exact same tactics.

No one had expected the same attacker to hit twice in a row.

So naturally, the Windfire Squad had fallen just as easily.

And then, last night—

The Crescent Moonlight Division fell to the exact same tactics.

Even after two consecutive nights of attacks, the culprit dared to strike again.

A third massacre in a row.

An utterly unpredictable beast!

For the first time, Seok Humhum admitted to himself—this was a true nemesis.

The culprit was a coward, sneaking in under the cover of darkness, striking while everyone was asleep, then setting everything on fire.

If a real man held a grudge, he was supposed to settle it openly, under the blazing sun, in front of a watching crowd.

How could someone be so disgraceful—so underhanded—

“…Ah! Of course! I’ve solved one mystery!”

"Investigator? Have you discovered something?"

"The culprit might be a woman. This isn’t the work of a man."

"Shall we continue rounding up all the men who have recently entered the city, sir?"

"Include the women as well."

It was a brilliant deduction from the greatest investigator of the cult—the man with a 420% arrest rate.

…Though technically, the White Hand Witch was already a woman.

And the traces of Blood Shadow Thunderclap Blade Style clearly indicated an internal member.

But Wasunja—the assistant investigator, executioner, and master of interrogation—kept these thoughts to himself.

After all—who would dare question the legend of a man who arrested 32 extra criminals per case?

"Understood, Investigator."

"Conduct a thorough investigation. The honor of the Peace Pavilion is at stake. You remember my philosophy, don’t you?"

"Yes, sir. Torture always knows the answer. I have it committed to heart."

Seok Humhum nodded grimly.

"These days, there are so many corpses hanging around the city! The stench of rotting bodies is so bad I can barely breathe! And the bugs! They're swarming everywhere! So… let’s go check it out!"

Qing tilted her head.

…What?

How the hell did that conclusion even follow?

The logic was completely disconnected.

"Why would I want to go see a bunch of rotting corpses swarming with bugs?"

"To throw rocks, obviously! One coin if you knock off a limb, three if you hit the neck and drop the whole body!"

"Oh. Right. A sacred Heavenly Demon Divine Cult tradition, is it?"

"Yup!"

Gyeon Pohee beamed.

Qing sighed internally.

These cult bastards really never run out of ways to be insane.

Now they were out here mutilating corpses for fun?

In truth, though, this wasn’t some cult-exclusive atrocity.

It was a Central Plains tradition.

Qing just didn’t know that.

Not that the Central Plains would appreciate the accusation.

This kind of ritualistic corpse desecration had been a global phenomenon throughout history.

It was an effective tool of social control, used by rulers across the world to instill fear and obedience in their citizens.

Qing grimaced and glanced at Gyeon Pohee.

"Senior sister."

"Hm?"

"By any chance… do you not want to go to the Central Plains?"

"Not a chance!"

A knife-sharp rejection.

…Huh.

Qing had honestly expected her to say yes.

Well. If she didn’t want to go, there was nothing Qing could do about it.

People made their own choices.

It wasn’t like she could drag her there.

Instead of forcing the issue, she just asked,

"Why?"

"Why the hell would I go to that terrifying place?"

Gyeon Pohee shot the question right back at her.

Qing could have listed a dozen reasons.

But this was a crutch raised on brainwashing, someone who thought the Central Plains was a living hell.

So Qing kept it simple.

"Because I’m going."

"Then I’ll go too!"

…This girl was not built for long life.

She’d probably follow a stranger just for a piece of candy.

For someone who thought the Central Plains was a den of horrors, she sure wasn’t thinking things through.

…Then again, when had she ever thought things through?

Still, the sentiment was kind of sweet.

Qing sighed and gave a parting warning.

"Keep this a secret, alright? Don’t go blabbing about it."

"Got it! I won’t tell a soul!"

And with that, the afternoon passed with yet another session of traditional Chinese massage therapy with Madam Kang.

Qing had thought there were already too many self-important bastards walking around acting like they ran the place.

But then it hit her—

That was literally the entire cult.

A place filled to the brim with arrogant, self-proclaimed rulers.

Of course, when the biggest of them all was an egotistical lunatic, it was only natural that all his subordinates followed his example.

Only ten more sections of Heavenly Heart Harmony left.

If she dragged things out, about two weeks.

Then, it would be time to head for the Heavenly Demon Vault.

Lost in thought, Qing suddenly remembered something critical and urgently spoke up.

"Hey, hey—right there! My back! Teacher, press a little harder, will you? What’s with the weak grip? I can’t even play my flute like this. Ah, yeah, right there. That’s the spot."

Completely satisfied by Madam Kang’s expert pressure point work, Qing resumed her planning.

Seol Ganom was planning to escape before then.

Might as well have him take Crutch along.

She’d just tell them to meet up in Sichuan.

She had to stop by Emei Sect anyway.

"Tonight is the new moon. A perfect time to take out the Demonblade Asura. He's a highly sensitive and cunning demonic cultivator—said to be at the late Transcendent Realm, soon to step into the Unrestrained Realm. Of course, it's risky, so whether you go for the kill is up to you."

"What the hell? You want me to fight a Transcendent Realm master? Seol Ganom, do you secretly have a death wish? Because that’s what it sounds like."

"The Demonblade Asura is the sect leader of the Asura Sect. If he dies, they’ll have to go through the funeral rites. That means another cult faction will be crippled, just like the Demonic King’s Blade Sect before it."

And so, Qing spent the whole day debating.

Then she came to a conclusion.

"This might actually be doable."

"The Demonblade Asura suffers from a side effect of his demonic cultivation—he needs a virgin’s blood to fall asleep."

"He kills a virgin every night?"

"Not every night. Even the cult doesn’t have that many virgins lying around. Instead, he kills one twice a month, on a full moon and a new moon, then sleeps for an entire day."

"Oh. So I just kill him while he’s asleep?"

"Easier said than done. Everyone knows that’s his weakest moment, which means his guards will be ridiculously tight."

"Okay, so what the hell am I supposed to do, then?"

"That’s for you to figure out. I do have an idea, but I don’t know if you can pull it off."

Seol Ganom wasn’t part of the cult.

He didn’t have inside connections or planted spies.

If he had that kind of pull, he wouldn’t be walking around with "public toilet" stamped on his forehead.

And yet—

Just from what he picked up here and there, his plans were dead-on every time.

No wonder Qing considered him one of the greatest minds in the Central Plains.

But because of that—

His plans never came with detailed instructions.

Qing had to figure out the execution herself.

Which was why she was now sitting near the back entrance of the Asura Sect, waiting.

Sure, this was a prime opportunity.

But still—

Was this really the best move?

Did this actually make sense?

Qing let out a long sigh.

Then—

A black-clad figure appeared in the distance, carrying a large sack over his shoulder.

It was an odd-looking sack.

Something inside it squirmed and bulged, pressing against the fabric in uneven waves.

A textbook example of what scholars called "forcible acquisition of a person’s body"—otherwise known as kidnapping.

And now, it was Qing’s turn to replace the contents of that sack.

Not that she was going in blind.

If things went south, she could bail.

If she got caught, she could just reveal her identity and blackmail her way out.

She might get chewed out, sure—

But what, they were going to abandon the Bokshinjeok?

They weren’t going to open the Heavenly Demon Vault?

If she succeeded, she’d kill a top-tier demonic cultivator.

If she failed, she’d get yelled at and move on.

There was literally no reason not to do this.

…Well.

There was one thing.

According to Seol Ganom, "a virgin’s blood" didn’t mean that kind of blood.

It was something called "maiden’s essence."

Whatever the hell that was.

He said it didn’t make much difference since the victims were killed afterward anyway.

Qing stopped thinking.

…Fuck it.

Whatever happens, happens.