Chapter Eleven: The Savior Next Door

The Boundary Monument was a vast yet loosely organized entity. Vast, because it governed the entire half-demon world of the East; loose, because its structure resembled more a platform—a system for issuing missions and exchanging rewards. Within its jurisdiction lay thirty-four regions, each managed by a regional director. Of these, Tian Xinxian, director of the crucial Imperial Capital region, wielded authority beyond measure.

As Li Fusi, Wildcat, and the others entered the underground sewer, Tian Xinxian and her assistant, Jian Dan, arrived in a grand hall. The furnishings were sparse—a massive electronic screen, a ring of workstations hugging the walls. Every device was cutting-edge, radiating technological prowess. Apart from one empty seat, the workstations were occupied by Boundary Monument staff clad in black.

Tian Xinxian had once appeared at the Half-Open Door Tavern, apparently an acquaintance of Steward Ten. When Li Fusi was last there, Xinxian and he had no time for conversation due to Xuanzhi’s illness. Only after Xuanzhi’s crisis was momentarily averted and Wildcat reported news of the weasel-wolves had a day and a night passed since their last meeting.

Events had unfolded too abruptly. Upon learning the details, Tian Xinxian never expected matters to escalate to the point of triggering a "Red Response." To save time, she had come straight to this central command room to take charge.

“How are the remaining seventeen teams of the Bloodstain Operation preparing?” she asked.

For once, Jian Dan was serious, reporting immediately, “All are fully armed and have assembled at their designated locations. I’ve made some adjustments to their gear: all firearms have been replaced with cold weapons, and they’re carrying more grenades and explosives—mass destruction weapons. The moment they descend into the sewers, they’ll form the first kill ring.”

Tian Xinxian hesitated. “Using explosives underground…”

She was cut off. “Even if there’s a collapse above, the PR department can just fabricate a story about a gas leak. It’s better than letting those weasel-wolves escape. If even one gets away, we’ll soon face another Red Response,” Jian Dan said flatly. “Besides, with the half-demons present, unless absolutely necessary, each team’s arbiter won’t approve the use of explosives.”

She continued, “We’ve dealt with these creatures before. The seventeen teams will encircle the target, centered on Li Fusi’s position, forming a kill ring with a five-kilometer radius. Their primary objective is to support Team Eighteen and eliminate the Weasel-Wolf King, so the pack loses its leader.”

“The second ring is the true ‘Red Response.’ In addition to nearly a hundred half-demons summoned by emergency decree, that special unit is also moving in, advancing slowly with a fifty-kilometer radius around Li Fusi. Both above and below ground, plainclothes personnel are searching to ensure that, after the Weasel-Wolf King dies, not a single member of the pack survives.”

It sounded simple, but the actual implementation would be dangerous beyond measure, especially as the weasel-wolves, driven mad by the death of their king, grew ever more frenzied.

Public information about the weasel-wolves was limited. More detailed data was classified, highly restricted. Their most terrifying trait was their reproductive method and capacity. Research showed their stable genetic chain was a hybrid of weasel and wolf. Worse, they could breed across species with many creatures, producing offspring with unique abilities surpassing normal racial limits.

Tian Xinxian fell silent. Jian Dan’s plan was rough but time was tight—there was no room for more finesse. She accepted it, then asked, “Can we see their visuals?”

Jian Dan snapped her fingers, and the big screen split into seventeen feeds—live views from the captains of the Bloodstain Operation teams.

“Team Eighteen rushed in too fast. They didn’t bring surveillance devices. It’s that Li Fusi’s fault—he finds the weasel-wolves, but leaves us no time to react, always reckless because of his strength, never thinking about his teammates!” Jian Dan grumbled.

Tian Xinxian glanced at her, exposing her, “Weren’t you once his teammate? Or is ‘partner’ more accurate?”

Jian Dan clicked her tongue, not denying it.

Meanwhile, in the underground sewer, Team Eighteen faced overwhelming odds as a tide of black weasel-wolves surged after them. Of the three half-demons present, Ma Mingming and Niu Shan barely held their sides, while Ma Qiqi, though awakened to her half-demon senses, possessed only non-combat perception abilities. She was strong, but even if she stomped one creature to death with each step, there was no end to the swarm.

Everyone soon realized the danger behind them and their expressions turned to horror. Experience now proved its worth. Wildcat, an old hand of the Boundary Monument, knew fear was useless. Anger surged in its place. He yanked open Forty-Seven’s backpack, grabbed a charge of explosives, pulled the fuse, and flung it into the oncoming horde, cursing, “Down, all of you!”

With a thunderous boom, the weasel-wolves at the blast center were instantly killed, and the rest, wounded and dazed, were flung back. Even those coming from other tunnels were cowed by the noise, halting their attack.

Everyone hit the ground. The three young half-demons fared better, but the Boundary Monument staff—being ordinary humans—were left reeling, their ears ringing from the nearness of the blast.

Ma Mingming was first to his feet, roaring, “Now’s our chance! Fight our way out!”

Niu Shan supported Ma Qiqi and shouted, “Which way?!”

Ma Mingming hadn’t thought that far. Wildcat, who usually led the way, was still stumbling around, half-deaf. In desperation, Ma Mingming picked the nearest tunnel and yelled, “Whatever happens, we go this way!”

He seized Wildcat’s arm and led the charge, the others staggering after, helping one another as they fled the chaos.

Most of the weasel-wolves scattered, the rest huddled in corners, bewildered.

Ma Mingming was forced to juggle several tasks—acting as impromptu leader, choosing a path that avoided the monsters but also led toward Li Fusi, while watching over Wildcat and the others. All the while, a shadow lingered in his heart. These weasel-wolves, though numerous, were all mindless juveniles—yet twice during their attack, he’d heard the synchronized scurrying of claws. This meant they coordinated, displaying a level of teamwork impossible for mere beasts.

If simple hunting instinct explained it, that was one thing. But if there was a commander among them—a true leader—then they faced an organized, disciplined army.

The more Ma Mingming thought, the more terrified he became. He prayed silently that it wasn’t so, and shook the still-dazed Wildcat, dreading the burden of command.

After ten minutes of blind flight, the sounds of pursuit faded. It seemed they were no longer being chased.

Suddenly, Ma Mingming felt Wildcat’s grip tighten on his shoulder and quickly asked if he was all right.

Wildcat struggled to look around and gasped, “Quick, check Beidou positioning… go find Bystander C…”

Ma Mingming slapped his forehead, remembering, then pulled out his phone. “Bystander C is only five hundred meters away!”

Wildcat’s spirits rose. He jumped onto Ma Mingming’s back, trusting his strength, and shouted, “Ma Qiqi! Don’t stop using your sense of smell! These weasel-wolves can hide their presence—do your best to search the area!”

Ma Qiqi shrugged off Niu Shan’s support, running while replying, “Yes! I won’t let us be ambushed again!”

Her determination was reassuring, but Wildcat remained anxious. Five hundred meters in a straight line could mean a long detour underground, and no one had expected the weasel-wolves to possess stealth abilities—something not recorded in their public profile.

Ma Mingming led the group out of the tunnel and into a vast cistern lined with stone columns.

It was an ideal place for an ambush. Wildcat’s instincts screamed danger. He tried to get off Ma Mingming’s back, but as his feet touched the ground, he glimpsed a shocking sight.

Near the entrance to the cistern, between two stone pillars, a yellowish gas screen hung like a curtain. Three huge black weasel-wolves, each streaked with odd tufts of fur, crouched, baring their fangs, ready to pounce.

Each was nearly two meters long—more than twice the size of the previous creatures. Their demeanor was alert, their aura dark and heavy—clearly far above the mindless pack they’d just escaped. The leader’s face even bore a mocking expression, chilling to behold.

A bolt of realization struck Wildcat: “Ten-Death grade weasel-wolves. Three of them!”

Once a monster surpassed the juvenile grade, it usually gained intelligence, equaling that of an adult human. That was what set monsters apart from beasts—without the blessing of fate, a beast could never become a monster.

The Boundary Monument divided monsters into five grades, each a world apart from the next. Even within a grade, differences could be vast. Monsters of Ten-Death grade and above often possessed unique abilities, making their strength impossible to judge by fixed standards.

But for Wildcat and his companions, none of this mattered now. Even one Ten-Death grade monster was almost too much. Three meant no hope of escape.

Ten-Death grade—meaning at least ten casualties per monster.

If there were only one, Wildcat might attempt a desperate fight. Against three, even fleeing was futile.

His terror peaked the moment he saw them, but when the leader lunged, fear turned to fury. With a snarl, he shoved Ma Mingming aside.

Everything happened too fast. Before anyone could react, a black shadow shot between Wildcat and Ma Mingming.

Ma Mingming hit the ground, stunned, and saw Wildcat clutching his right shoulder in agony.

Wildcat’s right arm had been torn off at the shoulder. Blood spurted from the mangled flesh and shredded sleeve. His head was thrown back, veins bulging, face twisted with pain, but he glared silently at the creature that had ripped his arm away.

The weasel-wolf, with Wildcat’s arm in its jaws, toyed cruelly with these intruders—fresh prey delivered to its den.

The leader’s chest bore a tuft of yellow fur. If it ever reached Hundred-Fall grade, perhaps all its fur would turn gold.

In the face of blood and fury, its mocking smile deepened. Deliberately, it bit Wildcat’s severed arm in two before slowly chewing and swallowing it, savoring every moment.

Of the group, the three young half-demons and the new staff member, Forty-Seven, were seeing a monster consume human flesh for the first time. Ma Mingming turned pale; Forty-Seven, worse off, shook uncontrollably and nearly soiled himself. His previously sharp image was utterly shattered.

Wildcat glanced around. The other two—one with blue, one with green fur—had already circled to block the tunnel behind them. He cursed these cunning beasts, then, with grim resolve, took out his last explosive and yelled, “If you can run, run to Bystander C! If not, take these bastards with us—blow them to hell!”

The black-clad woman was the first to charge the leader, followed by Ma Mingming, his pride wounded, determined that if he died, he would at least drag down the monster that had eaten Wildcat’s arm.

Ma Qiqi followed her brother, while Niu Shan pulled Forty-Seven behind him to shield Ma Qiqi.

The four drivers rushed at the green-furred weasel-wolf, knowing it was impossible to evade. Only by fighting head-on might one or two escape.

Wildcat bit open the fuse and hurled the charge at the blue-furred creature blocking their path.

This charge, like the previous, had a timer—the fuse was only a backup, and detonation was nearly instant.

But to their shock, the blue-furred weasel-wolf was lightning-fast, leaping to meet the explosive. In a blur, it caught the device, deposited it at a distance, and returned to its place before the explosion echoed from a far-off tunnel.

Too fast—impossibly fast. It had clearly awakened a speed ability.

Wildcat, though he hadn’t planned to run, now felt true despair.

Team Eighteen was the weakest of the Bloodstain Operation. The ordinary Boundary Monument staff relied on firearms or mopping up. The three half-demons were too young—too inexperienced, their abilities insufficient. The only truly strong member, their captain Bystander C, had gone alone into the enemy’s den, leaving the others stranded. Wildcat cursed Li Fusi bitterly—the so-called second on the merit board, yet useless!

The leader, intelligent and disdainful, ignored the black-clad woman and Ma Mingming. Its gaze fixed on Ma Qiqi, clearly savoring the pain it would cause by killing one so fiercely protected by her kin. It leaped past the front line, straight for Ma Qiqi.

Seeing his sister threatened, Ma Mingming’s eyes filled with blood. He drove his dagger at the monster’s belly, while the black-clad woman struck for its flank with her own blade.

Ma Qiqi, already horrified by Wildcat’s injury, froze with terror as she realized she was the next target.

Behind her, Niu Shan dropped Forty-Seven and, brandishing his hand axe, swung desperately at the creature.

But the leader, agile and cunning, twisted away from the woman’s knife, used Ma Mingming’s dagger as a springboard, then, incredibly, headbutted Niu Shan’s axe, knocking it back into the attacker’s chest.

The monster, immense and unopposed, pounced on Ma Qiqi, jaws gaping, filthy fangs snapping for her throat.

Elsewhere, the four drivers faced the green-furred weasel-wolf lurking in the shadows. It spat a cloud of green mist—overpowering and foul. Fortunately, it wasn’t deadly; but the four men collapsed, convulsing, their limbs weak, foam drooling from their mouths, rendered powerless in an instant.

Ma Mingming, prideful and desperate, felt utter helplessness for the first time. Grief and rage mingled in his voice as he cried, “Bystander C, you bastard! Where are you?!”

Li Fusi’s voice sounded abruptly in Ma Mingming’s ear. A moment later, the wall across the waterway collapsed with a thunderous crash.

“Insulting the captain—merit points deducted.”