Chapter 92: The Heavenly Demon Cult Serial Murder Case #5 – No Chinese Allowed, Absolutely Not.

"Hoo…"

Qing exhaled and casually tossed the whip aside.

The only thing left in the room was a dismembered corpse, its insides spilling messily across the floor.

She looked around, frowning in disgust.

Fortunately, there was some cloth left over from the Demonblade Asura’s robes.

Qing tossed it over the lower half of the corpse.

"Hm. That’s better."

No one needed to see an old man’s sagging ass.

It was for the sake of whoever found the body.

A small act of kindness, really.

Still—something felt missing.

Maybe it could use a little decoration.

Her eyes glinted as she scanned the room.

She grabbed two thick wooden carvings—phallic symbols—and firmly placed one in each of the corpse’s hands.

Then, she scattered a few more around the body.

"Perfect. Now it really looks like a proper sex crime scene."

Qing nodded in satisfaction.

With that done, she reached into her chest pocket, pulled out her wrinkled mask, and slipped it on.

The result?

A highly suspicious figure—dressed in light summer clothing, but with only her face covered.

She carefully pushed open the only iron door in the room.

A dimly lit underground chamber stretched before her, illuminated by flickering candlelight.

At the end of the corridor—

A ladder.

Qing climbed up and gently pushed the hatch open.

Beyond it—

A lavish bedroom.

Nice. No one around.

…Wait.

Could this be a treasure room?

A treasure room was a main character’s right by birth.

Qing silenced her presence with Black Shadow Submersion Steps and immediately rummaged through every drawer and wardrobe.

Unfortunately—

It was just the Demonblade Asura’s bedroom.

Sure, the porcelain vases, silk scrolls, and fine robes looked expensive.

But what was the point of stealing things she couldn’t even sell?

In the end, the only useful item was a single old martial arts manual she found under the bed.

Her Martial Arts Window flickered.

At the same time, a new quest window popped up.

"Oh. Ultimate Martial Art."

Qing muttered in mild admiration.

Then, she frowned.

"Isn’t that a little too dramatic?"

When something sounded too powerful, it usually ended up being underwhelming.

Besides—

What the hell was Northern Abyss Divine Art?

If it were really that strong, then Seol Ganom, the Peng Clan bastard, or that very respectable person from the Ximen family would have mentioned it at least once.

And what was with this requirement about mastering all ten demonic arts and the Inverse Marrow Washing Technique?

What the hell did those have to do with each other?

…She had no idea.

Qing shrugged and tossed the manual into the lamp’s flame.

Some cursed martial art that turned people into masochists had no business existing.

Not that it mattered to her.

The moment she registered the technique, she had already learned it.

Whether she burned the manual or not was irrelevant.

She casually flicked the burning book onto the massive, luxurious bed.

It was stuffed with rare feathers and covered in the finest silk from the Central Plains.

A treasured mattress worth a fortune.

And now—

It was going up in flames.

All that was left now—

Was getting the hell out.

Qing took a deep breath.

Seol Ganom had asked Qing to return and report the results—whether she succeeded or failed.

That was unusual.

Normally, he just told her to wash up and go to sleep instead of coming back and dumping water all over his plans.

So, despite the tight timing, she returned, pulled the rope, and slipped into his tiny, cramped room.

As always, she planned to flop down onto the floor.

But for some reason—

Seol Ganom was awake, sitting upright instead of sleeping.

"How did it go?"

"Who am I? Ximen Qing. Greatness incarnate. The very concept of greatness itself exists solely to describe me."

"So you succeeded."

Seol Ganom immediately got to his feet.

"Hey—where are you going? I just got here."

"I need to unpack. I was prepared to leave right away if you didn’t show up."

Now that she thought about it—

The room did seem a little bigger than usual.

So that was it.

If things had gone south, he was going to vanish without a trace.

Qing scoffed.

"Didn’t you say something about preparing for the future if I got caught?"

"I tend to think long-term. When a storm is coming, it’s best to get out of the way first."

"You do realize that your friend was standing inside that storm, right?"

"If I had been planning to drag you down with me, then I wouldn’t be much of a friend, now would I?"

This bastard never lost an argument.

But this time—

His logic was weak.

And she had heard this exact justification before.

Qing wasn’t impressed.

For all his grand words, he had no loyalty.

Yeah. No more calling him the greatest mind of the Central Plains.

At best, he was just the smartest guy in the neighborhood.

Seol Ganom’s ranking plummeted.

Honestly, she had overestimated him from the start.

But even so, the way he had fallen from grace—this was a stock market crash.

"Regardless, you pulled it off," Seol Ganom said. "And judging by your face, nothing too unfortunate happened."

"Wow. You will not believe what I saw."

Qing immediately ratted out the Demonblade Asura’s twisted preferences.

Seol Ganom, surprisingly, just nodded calmly.

"There are quite a few like that."

"Wait. There are more?"

"Not that blatantly, but think about it. You know those guys who push their bodies to the absolute limit—to the point where their muscles are literally tearing apart? It’s the same thing."

"Aren’t those just people who train hard?"

"Think about it. Those types always eat nothing but plain, steamed meat and water. They act like enjoying food is a mortal sin, but they also don’t pursue any other pleasures. They push themselves until their muscles tear, limp around from the aftereffects, and then repeat the cycle every single day."

"Huh… now that you mention it…"

"They’ve already crossed the line into masochism. They don’t need food, because pain itself is their indulgence. That’s why they don’t bother looking for other hobbies. They’ll always have some excuse—something about muscles, probably—but tell me—what the hell do they even need all that muscle for?"

That was Seol Ganom’s take on the matter.

Seol Ganom had the body of a twig—thin, wiry, and completely devoid of muscle.

But that had nothing to do with the completely logical reasoning he had just laid out.

"Oh! That actually makes a lot of sense."

Qing nodded in admiration.

As expected of the greatest mind in the neighborhood.

Who would’ve thought there were so many masochistic freaks out there?

"If you have enough strength to wield a weapon without internal energy, then it’s better to invest in qi cultivation and expand your dantian."

"Right. There’s no such thing as too much internal energy."

"Exactly. Anyway, we got sidetracked."

Seol Ganom straightened his posture.

"We’ve done everything we can. Until the day we leave for the Heavenly Demon Vault, you should rest and focus on refining your martial arts."

"What? That’s it? I was just starting to warm up!"

"You—"

Seol Ganom let out a long sigh.

"Don’t underestimate the cultists too much."

There was a type of poison in the Central Plains called Gu Poison.

To create it, you sealed multiple venomous creatures inside a single jar and let them devour one another.

The last one left standing—the creature that had absorbed the venom of all the others—became the most toxic of all.

The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult had done the same thing—

They had militarized their entire population, turned Tianshan Divine City into a cauldron of death, and let only the strongest survive.

The weak had no voice in their society, while the strong could do whatever they wanted under the law of survival.

They had no interest in developing their city—

All they needed were powerful warriors and disposable foot soldiers for their invasion of the Central Plains.

All the chaotic, lawless insanity that had made Qing shake her head in disbelief—

It wasn’t just random madness.

It was a calculated system, built for one purpose—to mass-produce elite martial artists as quickly as possible.

"Anyway, the real high-level warriors don’t even live in the barracks. You managed to slaughter some powerful cultists, sure, but only because they’d grown complacent after years of peace."

"Hm."

"Starting tomorrow, even stepping outside at night will require serious preparation. Every elite warrior in the cult is going to be hunting down the culprit."

Well—

That was unfortunate.

But not much to be done about it.

Qing simply nodded.

Seol Ganom’s advice had never steered her wrong.

Sure, his sense of loyalty was questionable, but his intelligence was the real deal.

Honestly, ever since she mastered Grand Purity Sutra, her enthusiasm had died down a bit.

Guess that was what made it a proper Buddhist technique.

But for Qing, it was just…

She had played too hard and gotten bored.

That was just human psychology—even the most exciting games got less thrilling over time.

Qing let go of her attachment to night hunting.

Seok Humhum, the greatest investigator of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, narrowed his eyes in satisfaction.

"Heh. You filthy little rat. Your time is up."

With Demonblade Asura’s death, even the Secret Pavilion could no longer afford to turn a blind eye.

They had granted Senior Investigator Seok Humhum the authority of a First-Class Investigator.

It was an immense privilege—equivalent to that of a Vice Commander of a battle division or a first disciple of a major sect.

This meant he now had the power to command the cooperation of top-level warriors within the cult.

"Investigator… Are you sure about this plan? Deploying this many experts for a night patrol?"

Seok Humhum’s lieutenant frowned as he studied the overwhelmingly dense patrol routes.

It wasn’t a patrol anymore.

It was practically a Heaven’s Net—a citywide manhunt.

And every single person involved was an elite martial artist, no less.

"Heh. Every single crime so far has happened at night. That means all we have to do is arrest every suspicious person after dark."

His bloodshot eyes gleamed with ruthless intent.

"Just try it. Try striking one more time.

Because that will be the day you die."

Of course—

That was only true if the culprit actually went out again.