Free Web NovelChapter 99: Chapter 98: Rank
"This comic artist, Miss Liu..."
Fu Juemin’s fingertip lightly tapped the slender byline on the newspaper. "Where does she live? Do you know?"
The middle-aged man shook his head. "Miss Liu doesn’t like using the mail. She always sends someone to deliver her manuscripts and collect her fees in person."
"Sometimes it’s her husband, other times it’s one of her friends..."
"And Miss Liu’s friends are all unbelievably beautiful!"
the freckled woman chimed in.
Fu Juemin frowned slightly. "Is there no way to find out?"
The middle-aged man glanced at the freckled woman, who shook her head. The atmosphere in the office slowly grew cold.
"How about this..."
The middle-aged man, catching a glimpse of the check on the desk out of the corner of his eye, said with a placating smile, "When she comes to turn in her manuscript next month, I can ask for you then."
Fu Juemin said nothing, merely tapping the desk with his knuckles. Suddenly, the bald old man from the newspaper office, who had been silent the entire time, spoke up and recited an address.
The middle-aged man, the editor-in-chief, was stunned. "Old Li, how do you know that?"
The bald old man shot him a slow, sidelong glance. "Have you forgotten about that urgent manuscript rejection...?"
"Oh, so you wrote down her address back then?!"
The freckled woman was the first to understand. Beaming, she gave the old man a thumbs-up. "I knew it! Old Li always has a solution!"
Having gotten the address, Fu Juemin stood up, satisfied. The middle-aged man and the other two from the newspaper office hurried to see him out.
Just as he reached the door, Fu Juemin paused.
"Oh, right. One more thing."
Fu Juemin thought for a moment, then said, "Those stories your newspaper publishes, the ones with detailed origins—how do you collect them? I’m quite curious."
"We buy them!"
The freckled woman answered quickly, "I buy them all from Director Gu at Jigu Garden. Let me write down the address for you..."
With that, the freckled woman scurried back to her desk, scribbled a note, and handed it to Fu Juemin. She then patted her chest and declared confidently, "Director Gu is a very strange man. He won’t see just anyone. Mr. Fu, if you really want to meet him, just tell him that Miss Zhou sent you."
Fu Juemin took the note, offered a smiling "thank you," and left with Cao Tian.
They hadn’t gone far when a CLATTERING and BANGING erupted from the office behind them.
"Old Li! Hurry! Go to the bank before it closes and check if this check is real!"
...
「Half an hour later, on Bedang Road in Shenghai City.」
Fu Juemin stood at a street corner, squinting as he sized up the place before him known as Fuxi Village.
Several unadorned, five-story concrete buildings were crammed together haphazardly. Due to the perennial humidity, the exterior of each building was covered in dark water stains and large, peeling patches, making them look like dirty, old dish sponges that had been carelessly tossed aside.
This area was on the edge of the Shenghai French Concession. It had originally been low-grade dormitories for a foreign-owned trolley company and a few water treatment plants. As the original tenants moved out over time, it gradually became a residence for a mix of people from all walks of life.
The people living here didn’t necessarily have respectable jobs, but their incomes weren’t always low.
Security in this area was relatively good; Patrol Police from the Concession came by almost every day.
"Building C."
Fu Juemin didn’t bother looking at the building numbers, instead following his intuition. It led him to a stop in front of an old building in this urban village.
Feeling a familiar thrum stir deep within him, Fu Juemin became certain the address he had gotten from the Wenjin Newspaper Office was real.
He didn’t rush upstairs, however. Looking around, he waved over a child carrying a box in the distance and bought a pack of cigarettes.
He couldn’t buy his usual "Silk Road" brand in Shenghai, so Fu Juemin picked a pack of "Golden Rat" that looked decent enough.
He tore open the pack, pulled out a cigarette, and offered it to Cao Tian, who shook his head.
Fu Juemin just smiled, unconcerned. He looked up at the old building and said abruptly, "Cao Tian, let me ask you something."
"Go ahead, Young Master."
"The first time you signed a life-and-death waiver at the Walking Flesh Hall and stepped into the ring, did you ever think about what would happen if you couldn’t make it back down?"
"No."
Cao Tian shook his head. "You can’t. If you do, you might really never get down."
He paused, then asked in turn, "When you killed Song Lin, Young Master, did you ever think about what might happen if he got away?"
Fu Juemin froze for a second, then chuckled. "Nonsense. I’ve never killed any Song Lin."
With that, Fu Juemin clapped Cao Tian on the shoulder and started toward the old building, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he walked.
"You don’t need me to go up with you, Young Master?"
"Wait for me at the village entrance."
Fu Juemin stepped into the old building.
The light inside was terrible. Even in broad daylight, it was as dark as night.
He struck a match. The brief flare of light illuminated a worn, upward-leading staircase. Fu Juemin’s shadow, cast upon the mottled walls, looked faintly and unnervingly demonic.
He took a deep drag, and the rich taste of tobacco momentarily suppressed the saliva that was flooding his mouth. ƒгeewebnovёl.com
The hunger he had felt at the docks now washed over him again, this time even more violent and intense.
The two Soul Seeds within him stirred, relentlessly transmitting an intense desire to feed.
With Fu Juemin’s frequent use of his two Talent Abilities, [Soft Bone] and [Yao Ling], his bond with the two Soul Seeds had grown ever tighter.
It was as if a peculiar "instinct" had been implanted deep within his bloodline. This instinct provided a timely warning whenever he encountered other Demon Species. Just as it had driven him to stay away from the water monkey and the Fire Cloud Army’s Marshal Huo, this time, it was an unprecedented "desire to devour"!
TAP—TAP—
The sound of his leather shoes echoed crisply through the empty, silent stairwell.
With every step, Fu Juemin’s "desire" grew stronger.
He lit a second cigarette, its crimson tip glowing and fading in the dim hallway.
Fu Juemin was trying to figure out the source of this instinct.
’This is the first fiend I’ve encountered since arriving in Shenghai,’ he thought. ’Based on the clues I have, it’s likely some kind of folkloric spirit, a type I’ve never met before.’
’Normally, with my cautious nature, I wouldn’t just... show up at a Demon Fiend’s doorstep alone and unprepared. I’d at least gather a team and make thorough preparations before making a move.’
But.
A voice in his subconscious kept telling him—’There’s no need.’
’There really is no need.’
This instinct seemed to view the encounter as a pleasant surprise, like a starving, parched traveler rounding a mountain bend to find the roadside laden with succulent, tempting fruit.
It couldn’t wait to enjoy this "fine meal," and it didn’t even want an audience.
A faint light shone from the end of the hallway. Fu Juemin narrowed his eyes as a phrase suddenly surfaced in his mind—to be a ghost in service to a tiger.
The important part wasn’t the figurative meaning of the phrase, but the literal relationship in the old legend between the tiger and the ghost it commanded.
’Even in death, as a ghost, one is still driven by the Demon...’
’Could it be that among Demon Fiends, besides raw power, there’s also a natural hierarchy of suppression?’
Lost in thought, Fu Juemin emerged from the dark stairwell.
He took a final drag from his cigarette, then stamped out the butt with his foot.
He reached up and forcefully loosened his tie. His gaze fixed on a small apartment door at the end of the hall. Fu Juemin’s Adam’s apple bobbed once, and then, with a calm expression, he slowly walked toward it.
