Where Immortals Once Walked

Chapter 477: Cold-Blooded and Merciless

By the time He Lingchuan found an inn and checked in, it was already near the end of the hour of the ox[1].

Luo Depot had nearly been turned upside down by their commotion. Over at the self-heal herb warehouse, the spectacle had been loud, bright, and flashy enough—thunder, fire, and explosions galore—that it would have been stranger if the whole town had not been jolted awake.

He Lingchuan took a cold shower at once, rinsing the blood and mud off his body. After changing into fresh clothes, he headed straight for the township’s government office.

Surprisingly, the dark-skinned fatty’s confession had already been extracted.

The credit for that went to General Ling, who did not waste a single moment. On the way back, it had already started questioning the man, or, more appropriately, conducting an interrogation.

As a local powerhouse, General Ling enjoyed plenty of privileges. Nobody dared stop it from overstepping and taking over an official interrogation like this.

That fatty had been kicked off the snail shell by the skunk monster during the fight and captured early. Thanks to that, he had avoided being blown into minced meat and was still alive and healthy.

Jiao Yu sat in on the questioning and confirmed that the dark-skinned fatty was only an accessory. He took orders from above and followed the boss’ arrangements.

The boss was Wan Song.

Still, the dark-skinned fatty provided several key details. For instance, they had been doing this so-called business for seven years, a trade that required no capital at all. He had been pulled in by Wan Song, and Wan Song had been pulled in by the previous captain.

That former captain had died last winter after being fatally injured while raiding the porcupine nest on Mount Yulun. Wan Song had naturally taken over as captain.

In those seven years, they had operated only within the borders of the State of Chiyan. They had gone out nearly two hundred times in total and killed several thousand monsters.

That was a rough estimate. He could not remember the exact number.

The count was so high because many monsters were small—bats, for example. Every time, they would kill at least a dozen.

“Several thousand?” Even hearing that, He Lingchuan frowned. “That doesn’t sound right. Just that one time on Mount Yulun, you killed over a hundred porcupines.”

“That was later,” Jiao Yu explained. “In the early days, they hunted cautiously. They tried to target large wild monsters so each outing only required one or two kills so as to avoid attracting official attention.”

Safety was what made longevity possible.

“Then starting last year, imperial nectar descended. The number of wild monsters and beasts surged, and the demand for jiang beads rose with it. That’s when their superiors ordered them to increase their hunting.”

Otherwise, the whole affair would not have been exposed.

He Lingchuan finally remembered the matter that actually concerned him. “Then what about the messenger from Lingxu City? How did it end up being hunted?”

“The fatty said they treated it as an ordinary monster, killing it to extract a bead. They had no idea it was Lingxu City’s courier!” Jiao Yu sighed for once. “He cried in front of us, swearing that if they’d known it belonged to Lingxu City, how could they have possibly dared touch it? General Ling also checked him and made sure he wasn’t lying.”

After saying that, Jiao Yu shot General Ling a look. This impatient brute had nearly kicked the man’s guts out; that fatty probably couldn’t lie even if he wanted to.

He Lingchuan found it odd. “Then that eastern imperial eagle didn’t even get a chance to defend itself before it died?”

A bird of prey had actually died such an unjust and one-sided death?

“The aberrant creature assigned to Wan Song is called a snail toad. It can release a colorless, odorless sleeping mist that makes prey drift off without realizing it. So that eastern imperial eagle really did fall asleep and never wake again, having no chance to argue its case.” Even thinking back on it made Jiao Yu’s heart pound. “It’s a good thing that we all kept wakefulness pills in our mouths when we set the ambush at the herb warehouse. Otherwise, we’d have slept through it, and by the time we woke, the culprit would’ve fled a thousand kilometers. We’d have humiliated ourselves beyond saving.”

He Lingchuan rubbed his chin. “So that’s how the porcupines died?”

“Most of them, yes. But a few came back from outside and didn’t get hit by the mist. That’s when they fought Wan Song’s group head-on,” Jiao Yu said. “With the snail toad’s help, they still won in the end.”

“What’s the deal with this snail toad, exactly?” That was what interested He Lingchuan most. “You asked about it, right? Tell me.”

“As you suspected, the aberrant creature is a stitched-together monster puppet. But the fat man didn’t know who made it. He only knew it was fused from an evil ghost toad’s juvenile form and a snail, and even the shell on its back has a story.”

“What’s the story?”

“He doesn’t know. He only heard the former captain say one sentence about it.”

“An evil ghost toad? Does the State of Chiyan even have that kind of monster?” He Lingchuan had heard of them. They supposedly appeared only in thunderstorms out in the wild, lying in ambush along the roads travelers had to take.

They could change color and shape, often disguising themselves as caves or huts. Travelers would run inside to shelter from the rain, only to walk straight into a toad’s mouth and become its meal.

“Chiyan doesn’t, but I’ve heard there’s an evil ghost toad clan in the State of Ze, but their numbers are very low. Actually, there are only three of them.” Jiao Yu shook his head. “Evil ghost toads are enormous and brimming with magical energy. These days, it’s very hard for them to produce offspring.”

The stronger the creature, the harder reproduction already was, let alone in a world where spirit qi was so scarce.

He Lingchuan blinked and asked, “Then where did this group get a juvenile evil ghost toad?”

“I don’t know, but I suspect that the State of Ze is involved,” Jiao Yu murmured. “If news of this spreads, it’ll be another storm.”

No one would tolerate seeing their offspring turned into something neither monster nor puppet, warped into this grotesque in-between.

He Lingchuan, of course, could not care less about Chiyan’s diplomatic headaches. He only muttered, “A juvenile evil ghost toad... Wait, hell, that’s just a tadpole, isn’t it?”

No wonder the monster puppet looked so unnatural. It was basically a... not-fully-developed tadpole?

Tadpoles are born spindle-shaped. With time, the base of the tail thickened, forelegs and hind legs sprouted, the body grew more and more swollen, and the tail shortened until it vanished.

Aside from the snail shell and antennae, wasn’t that monster puppet exactly in that in-between stage of a tadpole turning into a toad?

But biologically speaking, that stage shouldn’t last long, and it’s also extremely unstable.

No wonder Dong Rui said that the aberrant creature had to eat self-heal herbs regularly. He must’ve used some method to force the monster puppet to remain in that form, but the process had been rushed and never fully fine-tuned.

So what would happen if the snail toad goes too long without eating self-heal herbs?

Would it transform into an evil ghost toad?

And what disastrous consequences would that bring?

After hearing the confessions, He Lingchuan felt as though his questions had not decreased at all. If anything, they had multiplied. “Wan Song’s current backer, Mr. Mai, how much does he know?”

General Ling answered, “He hasn’t met Mr. Mai. Wan Song doesn’t talk about him much. But at the end of last year, Wan Song went to Baishajue to see Mr. Mai. When he came back, he said their group had performed best, so their reward was the greatest.”

A year-end bonus? “How much did they get?”

Their team had originally been six men. The former captain had died last year hunting porcupines. Two more died a few days ago while trying to poach He Lingchuan’s cliff ram. So this time, they had only faced three.

“At the end of last year, each man got 700 taels, plus an additional 1,200 taels as a bonus,” General Ling snarled. “That’s why they worked themselves so hard this year and killed so many monsters!”

“In other words, there are other groups?”

“He couldn’t say for sure.”

“And Wan Song’s temperament?” That was the question He Lingchuan had specifically told Jiao Yu to press.

“Savage and cruel. Even his own men feared him.”

He Lingchuan nodded.

The dark-skinned fatty had already been emptied out by these two monsters. There was no more value to squeeze from him. He Lingchuan checked the time, stood, and said, “Alright, let’s go to the medical hall.”

At times like this, he missed Ling Guang badly.

After the night battle, Wan Song had been sent to Luo Depot’s best medical hall for emergency treatment.

The doctors and physicians here were quite skilled. After more than two hours of frantic work, they had stopped the bleeding, and the swelling in his face had mostly gone down. Still, they could only say regretfully, “His internal injuries are too severe. There’s nothing we can do. We’ve exhausted every method and can only keep him alive for another two hours. Do you want us to wake him now?”

“Wake him,” He Lingchuan said coldly. “Time is precious.”

So the doctors took a smelling vial and held it beneath the patient’s nose, gently shaking it.

Soon, Wan Song awoke from unconsciousness.

The moment he opened his eyes, he saw He Lingchuan. His gaze swept over Jiao Yu, General Ling, and the other monsters. Confusion slowly cleared into comprehension, and then he sank into utter despair.

“You seem to understand your situation,” He Lingchuan said. He dragged a chair closer with his foot and sat down. “Answer honestly, and you’ll suffer less.”

“Why, why did it explode?” Wan Song still could not understand it, neither before he blacked out nor after he woke.

“There were several jars of explosives in the herb warehouse.” He Lingchuan had planted them, intending to detonate them when the aberrant creature burrowed up into the storehouse.

Instead, it swallowed the warehouse whole, which was actually even better.

He Lingchuan had sent a clone to leap into its mouth and trigger a chained explosion. Of course, the blast had been devastating.

Wan Song lifted his head slightly and glanced down at his legs. “Can I still be saved?”

He Lingchuan didn’t bother dressing it up. “No.”

“...” To Jiao Yu and the other monsters, this was the moment to dangle hope, to threaten him with life and death.

But He Lingchuan knew Wan Song came from a Daoist background and had lived for years with his head metaphorically hanging from his belt. He had likely already judged his own injuries, so trying to lie to him here probably would not work.

Wan Song had a hooked nose, high cheekbones, and a gaunt face. Now his complexion was deathly pale and dark with gloom. “I’m about to die. What do you think you can still ask me?”

“Patriarch Wan may be implicated once you’re caught,” He Lingchuan said mildly, lifting the cup on the table. “Want some water?”

Wan Song figured a dying man had nothing left to fear and answered bluntly, “Yes.”

He Lingchuan fed him water with his own hand, then continued, “Patriarch Wan’s grandsons are still young. Are you taking them with you to the Yellow Springs[2]?”

“If Wan Xianneng hadn’t betrayed me, could you have caught me?” Wan Song said indifferently. “He ruined me, I ruin him. We’re even.”

He was about to die. Why should he care about someone else’s children?

He Lingchuan smiled. “Good, very good. Cold-blooded and merciless, no wonder Mr. Mai felt safe using you.”

Wan Xianneng was his own uncle, his only living blood relative. The man had even supported him in the past, and Wan Song could still discard him without a second thought. That must be the “precious quality” Mr. Mai valued.

Wan Song lifted his eyelids and glanced at him. He did not speak, but the contempt was plain enough.

He was going to die anyway, so what more could the man before him even do to him?

Death was the ultimate matter. With death at hand, what had he left to fear?

1. 1–3 A.M. ☜

2. This is just another word for the Underworld. ☜