Chapter Nine: The Weasel Wolf

The next morning, the “Reverse Door” bar was open as usual, but tonight it was strangely quiet. Perhaps the chaos from the previous night had left its mark; not a single familiar face was to be seen, and only two unfamiliar women sat directly opposite the bar, sipping their drinks and chatting softly.

Old Ten was absent that night as well, staying at the family residence to look after Xuanzi. Li Fusi lounged alone at the bar, setting up a crooked little sign in Old Ten’s usual spot that read: “Help Yourself to Drinks Tonight.”

He idly tapped the fish tank housing the two green toads, one eye buried in his arm, the other staring unblinking at the two women across the bar.

No matter how he looked, they were nowhere near as lovely as Xuanzi.

The two women were dressed strikingly bold. One wore only a sheer, half-transparent gauze blouse, the black lingerie beneath utterly visible. When she propped herself on the high counter with one arm, her chest pressed together like twin peaks. In this regard, she rivaled Big Waves, second only to Ma Qiqi.

With her other hand, the gauzy woman slowly swirled a glass of red wine. She was chatting and laughing with her companion when she seemed to notice Li Fusi’s gaze. Her lips curled slyly as she slid off the high stool, her long, black-stockinged legs almost level with the countertop. Her steps swayed like willows in the wind, eyes glimmering with flirtation, locked straight on Li Fusi as she approached.

Before sitting opposite him at the bar, she turned and winked at her friend. Then she leaned in and purred, “Hey there, handsome. My phone’s out of battery—would you mind lending me a charger, or maybe even your phone? You know how it is these days, with all the creeps around… Both our phones are dead, we can’t reach our families, and we’re too scared to go home alone…”

As she spoke, she placed the latest pink iPhone on the bar.

Li Fusi glanced at her heavily made-up, mask-like face, expressionless. “Sorry, I use a domestic brand—it’s not compatible.”

Her smile froze for an instant, then she tried to recover with a seductive tone, “Well, never mind that. Since we can’t get home and your bar is so quiet—there isn’t even music in this music bar—aren’t you lonely? Why don’t the three of us have a drink together?”

She slid her empty wine glass over to him.

Li Fusi pointed at the sign in Old Ten’s place and said impatiently, “Are you blind? Pay up, pour your own drink.”

The sheer-bloused woman’s chest heaved with anger; she snorted fiercely, spun on her heel, and left.

Now, the bar was utterly empty. Alone, Li Fusi sprawled across the bar, occasionally teasing the two green toads or scratching the palm of his Man Flower, feeling the weight of solitude.

With a bang, the wooden door of the bar was kicked open, as was the usual custom. A figure in black, carrying a file folder, emerged from behind the screen wall.

He slumped into the seat the woman had just vacated, tossed the folder onto the bar, and called out, “Hey, barkeep, pour the boss a Coke.”

Before Li Fusi could reply, he noticed the sign on the bar. “Well, well, even the diligent old man is off duty tonight. In that case…”

He slipped behind the bar, rummaging and muttering to himself. Soon, he dragged out a hollow wooden crate, inside which two one-liter metal bottles rested on a rack.

“Ha! Pure Coca-Cola concentrate! That old miser hoards all this but only lets me have a glass at a time. Stingy!”

Li Fusi rolled his eyes and ignored him, opening the file folder to look through its contents.

While preparing his Coke with ice, Simple said, “That girl called Yaomei—her real name is Chen Kexin. Her landlord reported her missing two days ago. All her information’s in here. Now, I’ve got good news and bad news for you. Which do you want first?”

“Good news.”

“The good news is, thanks to your brilliant assistant, you can now officially investigate this missing-person case.”

“And the bad?”

Simple grinned. “Well, obviously, if you’re allowed to investigate, it’s got to do with monsters!”

“There are traces of monsters at the scene, but no body, and very little blood. We can’t tell if Chen Kexin is dead or alive, but it’s definitely not a mutant—just not sure if it’s a half-demon offense or a wild fiend. Funny coincidence—I’d just sent someone to look into it when the Night Watch filed their report. As soon as I posted the assignment, I accepted it for you. Not bad, eh?”

“Also, the monster’s tracks at the scene are illogical. The Night Watch think the creature might be able to move unseen. Doesn’t your team have a field agent with sensory abilities? Might want to bring them.”

Li Fusi flipped through the file, confirmed Chen Kexin’s address, and then put it away. “No need. I’ll bring the Demon-Eater.”

Simple nodded enthusiastically, sipping his third glass of Coke. “Great, the Demon-Eater’s power can shatter any illusion. But… you seem a bit hasty. Be careful—don’t break the rules.”

Li Fusi only grunted through his nose.

Simple reminded him again, “Don’t neglect the Bloodstain Operation, either. You’re the captain—if anything happens to your team, that’s on you.”

Li Fusi quickly donned his black trench coat and naturally strapped on his Tang blade, Autumn Water. “If it’s within Kyoto’s boundaries, I’ll be there in ten minutes. If they can’t last that long, there’s nothing I can do. Lock up when you leave.”

Simple shouted after him, “Hey, closing up already? Where’s Old Ten—off looking after Xuanzi? Guess I’m taking this Coke concentrate!”

Li Fusi was already out the door. Only the sound of two roosters crowing echoed outside.

“I’ll take that as a yes then~~!”

Chen Kexin lived in an outlying alley of Kyoto, number 43, Second Courtyard, right-side wing, a room less than ten square meters, separated from her neighbor by a single sheet of colored steel. The neighbor, it was said, moved out immediately after Chen’s disappearance.

The alley was eerily quiet, not even a dog’s bark. Li Fusi and the rooster Luhua strolled in, their steps so light they raised no dust at all.

The wooden door creaked as Li Fusi gently pushed it open. He didn’t go in, but stood at the threshold.

Luhua, his comb held high, strutted inside like a hero being cheered by the masses.

The tiny room was so cramped that everything seemed to crash into the eyes at once. Whether Chen Kexin was a minimalist or simply frugal, it surprised Li Fusi—a girl’s room with nothing but a bed, a dressing table, and a wardrobe.

Standing at the door, he watched Luhua. Within seconds, he sensed something off.

Had anyone been standing in front of Luhua, they’d have seen his right eye scanning the room as if searching for food, while his left eye remained fixed on Li Fusi, a silver light flickering in the pupil as it swept from bottom to top.

Li Fusi seemed not to notice, simply gesturing for Luhua to come back.

But the moment they turned, a black line shot out from nowhere, slicing through the air straight toward the wardrobe’s top!

At the same instant, Luhua didn’t turn. The rooster’s comb flared red as blood, and silver light burst from his eye—an invisible wave of demonic power swept the room.

In that instant, the entire room seemed to become a black-and-white world, every detail thrown into relief. Even the internal grain of the walls and furniture became faintly visible. This was the Demon-Eater’s power: True Sight—what I see, all is real.

Atop the wardrobe, where the evil snake’s jaws struck, a young girl lay curled up, unconscious, while a monstrous creature—rat-headed and wolf-bodied—squatted on her chest. As the silver light swept over them, a ripple of yellow gas shimmered into view.

The creature was pitch-black and glossy, about the size of a washbasin, but its rat head was hideous, with blood-red eyes and an upside-down, jagged maw like two rows of crooked nails.

The girl was Chen Kexin—Li Fusi had seen her before. She seemed unhurt, only unconscious atop the wardrobe.

And for some reason, the monster had taken her hostage and hidden there, not fleeing!

Maybe the monster was too weak to carry off its “blood meal,” or perhaps it had just caught her when the landlord stumbled upon the scene, and the area was sealed before it could escape. Or perhaps it was planning to take the blood meal back to feed its young?

Wild fiends were, in some sense, like beasts. Each kind raised its young differently… Wait, young?

These thoughts flashed through Li Fusi’s mind, then sudden realization made him look sharply at the wardrobe.

The rat-headed fiend hadn’t anticipated its stealth being pierced, nor the deadly snake ready to devour it. It panicked, bouncing about the wardrobe top, unsure where to flee.

Snakes are natural enemies of rats, which explained the monster’s utter lack of will to fight. Clearly, this was only a low-level fiend, no match for the snake’s lightning strike. Just as the drooling snake was about to swallow the rat, a cold, gleaming blade pinned itself between them on the wall.

The Tang blade Autumn Water startled both the evil snake and the rat fiend.

Poor snake—its meal was lost as it swerved and crashed into the wall.

Seizing the chance, the rat fiend didn’t care why the blade had intervened, nor for the blood meal it had guarded two days. It dove at the wall, dug a hole in an instant, and fled.

Luhua watched, puzzled, as Li Fusi’s face grew grave. He barked, “Snake, follow me! Luhua, guard Chen Kexin. Something big is coming.”

With that, Li Fusi dashed out, chasing toward the hole. The evil snake was already slithering after the rat through the gap, both vanishing into the darkness of the surrounding buildings.

The snake was a cunning pet; even without Li Fusi’s command, it knew the appearance of Autumn Water meant the rat must not die. So it herded the monster through the shantytown. Had it not understood, it might have crashed into Chen Kexin instead of the wall—if it harmed a human, never mind dinner, its master would make snake stew out of it.

Li Fusi watched from the rooftops, leaping and crouching as needed. His phone was already out—he needed confirmation of his suspicions before acting further.

A childish tune abruptly rang out as the phone vibrated. He answered immediately, “Hello?”

“This is Wildcat. Based on your description, I compared the monster to the database. That rat-headed fiend is definitely a Marten Wolf!”

“If it’s them, all the clues from the Bloodstain Operation fit, and the mystery is solved!”

At the scene, Team Eighteen of the Bloodstain Operation clustered around a black SUV. Wildcat’s face was grave, tinged with fear.

The three young half-demons—Ma Mingming, Niu Shan, and Ma Qiqi—were bewildered. Their captain had just called to confirm a monster’s identity, but why would a mere Marten Wolf—a low-level fiend—make the second-ranked half-demon and a seven-year veteran of the Boundary Marker organization so serious and afraid?

Wildcat’s throat was dry as he rasped, “Captain, as the team’s Enforcer, it’s my duty to remind you of the importance of this, and to inform you of my actions. But you’re the captain. The three of us trust your judgment and command.”

Li Fusi was silent for a while, understanding the weight and resolve behind those words. In the Boundary Marker organization, the highest affirmation was “trust your judgment and command,” and it signified a readiness to face death.

“Enforcer Wildcat, immediately report Team Eighteen’s findings to headquarters. Make sure the medical teams are on standby. Alert the other seventeen teams to form the first encirclement around us. All Eighteen team members, activate your Beidou positioning systems, arm yourselves fully, and converge on my location!”

Wildcat replied, “Understood,” then hung up, looking solemnly at his three young teammates. “Good news: we’ve found the target of the Bloodstain Operation—a Marten Wolf, a disaster-level fiend. Bad news: we are the frontline of the hunt. Worse still, Marten Wolves are the most dangerous of their rank. Kyoto will soon enter Red Alert.”

He climbed into the SUV, and before closing the door, grinned at the others. “Get in, boys. Time to face death.”

Moments later, in their respective vehicles, the three young agents looked at the Marten Wolf’s image, each face drained of color.