[POV: Yao Yazhu]

  I walked through the hallway in silence, my steps barely grazing the floor as I circulated a light footwork technique. This was the best chance I would ever have to assassinate the Meteor Child. I did not know how Meng Rong had sustained an injury severe enough to hinder her judgment, but I could not afford to question fortune when it finally tilted in my favor. Opportunities like this did not come twice.

  As I moved, I removed the iron bands from my wrists and slipped them into my storage ring. The suppression lifted instantly. My realm rose to Qi Refinement, my true cultivation, the minimum threshold required to be inducted into the Milky Way Shadow Corps.

  “With this, there shouldn’t be any problem.”

  The Milky Way Shadow Corps was a secret organization formed by alliances between sects and nations within my domain. Officially, its purpose was to police the cultivation world. In truth, it existed to maintain balance by force, to keep neighboring domains in check through intimidation and decisive elimination. Omens, calamities, irregular existences… those were our jurisdiction.

  Yet I had not come here as a Shadow.

  I was here under the banner of the Phantasm Star Sect, acting on the personal request of my Sect Master. My task was to secure the Meteor Child, not to kill her. The Shadow Corps did not even know I had crossed into this domain. That secrecy was deliberate. My sect held a monopoly over astrological calculations and divination techniques, which allowed us to withhold the truth of the Meteor Child’s descent from the wider world.

  The Sect Master believed the child would become the salvation of the world when the Star of Calamity eventually matured.

  I did not share that belief.

  As someone who understood the Shadow Corps’ doctrines from the inside, I knew exactly how they would interpret this event. The Corps took an uncompromising stance toward omens. They did not debate prophecy, nor did they gamble on hope. If the Meteor Child’s existence became public knowledge, they would dispatch a death squad without hesitation, regardless of her age, background, or potential. Duty outweighed sentiment.

  The fact that the Boulder Path Sect and Dragon Heart Sect had already caught wind of the Meteor Child’s descent was a grave miscalculation on our part.

  I only have respect for Sect Master.

  Since the Sect Master’s way did not work, I could only resort to this.

  By removing the bands that sealed my strength one realm lower, I had made my decision.

  I would resolve this as a member of the Milky Way Shadow Corps.

  Even if it burdened my heart for the rest of my life, I would kill the child before others far more faint of heart were forced to do it.

  My steps slowed as I finally caught up to them. Tao Yu stood protectively in front of the Meteor Child, her body tense, her breathing uneven. The residual traces of Meng Rong’s formations lingered in the air, but they had already been bypassed.

  “Lady Meng’s formations are truly impressive,” I said calmly, letting my voice echo softly down the corridor. “But the running stops now. Give me the Meteor Child, Miss Tao.”

  “No!” she shouted without hesitation, spreading her arms wider as if her body alone could shield the girl behind her.

  I closed my eyes and let out a quiet sigh.

  Stubborn to no end.

  I was not so heartless that I would resort to violence at every turn. After all, I still had a mouth, and words were often sharper than blades when used correctly. I spoke calmly, keeping my tone even as I said, “Right now, Meng Rong and Yakuza Man are suffering under the effects of the Soul Severing Poison. In less than fifteen minutes, they will die. If you give me the Meteor Child now, I will provide you with the antidote and tell you where your grandfather is.”

  The Meteor Child trembled and cried out, her small voice cutting through the tension. “Sis Tao, what’s happening?”

  Tao Yu immediately pulled the child behind her, her movements instinctive and protective. She brandished her sword, her stance rigid despite the fear I could sense beneath it. “Xue Hai, just stay there and close your eyes,” she said firmly. “Let me handle this.”

  I shook my head slightly and answered, “No, you can’t.”

  Tao Yu spat with venom in her tongue. “Do you really think your ‘gentle’ persuasion will work on me? Don’t think too highly of yourself. This kind of coercion won’t sway me. If you want to stop this, you’ll have to kill me.”

  At that moment, I understood that subduing Tao Yu had become the main priority. At the same time, I was wary of stimulating the Meteor Child any further. Being ‘marked’ by fate was a real phenomenon around omens, one where your destiny could be shortened or forcibly entangled with the omen itself. I could not afford that. If I was going to deal with the Meteor Child, it had to be swift and decisive.

  The records left behind by my predecessors were clear on this point. There were countless stories of omens mishandled, of half-measures that led to survivors escaping only to bring about calamities generations later. Those who had been marked by such omens often met tragic ends, their lives twisted into cautionary tales. According to the manuals, the safest method was to conclude the omen in a single encounter. There was no solid theoretical foundation behind this belief, but destiny was not something that obeyed logic.

  Too much evidence supported the practice to ignore it.

  I exhaled slowly and took on a stance, releasing my qi fully. The pressure in the corridor deepened at once. One of the fundamental rules of the Shadow Corps was anonymity. No one was supposed to know who you were. Tao Yu had seen my face, and according to protocol, that meant she had to die.

  My sword flashed.

  Before she could react, Tao Yu crumpled and fell unconscious. I caught her before she hit the ground and gently laid her down, careful not to injure her further. The Sect Master had always said I was too softhearted, and moments like this proved him right. Even now, I hesitated to go further than necessary.

  What were the chances a backwater cultivator like her would reach the Milky Way Domain, anyway?

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  I turned my gaze to the Meteor Child. Her eyes were tightly shut, her small body trembling. I checked the white talisman that symbolized my fortune and fate. It had not darkened yet. I had not been marked by the omen.

  That was good enough for me.

  “Sis Tao?” asked the Meteor Child softly. “You there?”

  My little sister would have been about her age.

  The thought struck me without warning. I suppressed the surge of anger at myself, along with the familiar self-loathing that followed close behind. I should have done better. I should have searched harder and took her to my Sect. I should not have let her disappear into the chaos of the world and convinced myself there was nothing I could do.

  The talisman at my waist suddenly burned cold.

  I froze.

  The pristine white surface was rapidly tainted, black veins crawling across it as if alive. Dark fire bloomed from its center, furious and malignant. My breath caught when I focused on the name forming within the talisman.

  Yakuza Man.

  Shock coursed through me.

  What was the meaning of this?

  I’ve been marked by fate, but it was not the Meteor Child that caused it.

  A whistling sound cut through the corridor.

  I turned sharply, sword half-raised, but the space behind me was empty. The whistling stopped, and for a heartbeat there was only silence. Then it resumed, this time right beside my ear.

  I leaped forward on instinct, twisting into a stance as my qi flared. When I turned, Yakuza Man was already there, standing casually with his bat resting on his shoulder. The Meteor Child had long since fainted, leaning against Tao Yu’s still form.

  I stared at him, disbelief hardening into suspicion. “How?” I demanded. “You shouldn’t be able to move right now.”

  He pointed his bat at me as if accusing me of a crime, his grin wide and infuriating. “I knew it! Kids these days really have no respect! Hah~! Your cultivation is also so trash. But hey, I shouldn’t criticize you for it, since it’s the limitation of this world. But… your presence is trash too, huh? Must be tough. But, come on! This is too much! What am I supposed to look forward to? What happened to the standard?”

  My heart sank as realization dawned. Something was deeply wrong.

  I tightened my grip on my sword and asked carefully, “Who are you? You are not the Yakuza Man I know…”

  Was this a split personality? Possession? An inner demon unsealed by the poison? Before I could settle on an answer, he clicked his tongue in annoyance.

  “Shit, that compulsion to always tell the truth again,” he muttered. “I guess I can keep quiet, but it’s kinda annoying.” He tilted his head, as if reconsidering. “Hm. On second thoughts, I might as well ride the flow. I’m bored anyway.”

  He looked straight at me, eyes gleaming with something ancient and predatory. “You wanna know who I am? Fine, I’ll tell you. I’m an existence beyond your reckoning, long before this world was created. I fought in wars that decided the fate of billions and trillions of souls. Later, I got trapped in this mortal shell as my prison, forced to attend therapy sessions for the sake of redemption, and now I’m partaking in a quest that’ll decide the future of this world.”

  He grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself. “In another world, I’m called Park Ru-gyu. In another time, I’m called the Heavenly Demon Ru Qiu. Right now?” He tapped the bat against his palm. “I’m fucking freaking lickin’ Yakuza Man~!”

  The absurdity of the introduction barely registered before danger screamed through my instincts.

  His bat rushed toward me, wrapped in dark, burning power that warped the air itself. I barely managed to parry, my sword leaving a trail of starlight as it met his strike. The moment our weapons collided, the force blasted through me like a mountain falling from the sky.

  I was hurled upward, smashing through the formation barrier above the hall. The world flipped, and suddenly I was floating high in the air, the Pine Wind Book Hall spread beneath me like a fragile toy.

  Blood sprayed from my mouth.

  Even the qi barrier reinforcing my body had shattered instantly. Pain screamed through my meridians as I forced myself to focus, scanning for the hole he had torn open, anticipating his pursuit.

  “Hey, watch out—” a familiar voice said cheerfully.

  A kick slammed toward my face.

  I blocked with my sword just in time, but the impact sent me flying again. My body spun helplessly as I was flung far beyond the city walls. I crashed down outside Xincheng, hitting the river with a violent splash.

  This was just the worst.

  But how could I have prepared for something like this?

  I forced myself to calm down, floating amid shattered currents as I carefully assessed the situation. Panic would only hasten my end. Yakuza Man clearly only possessed the rough cultivation aura of Qi Gathering, yet the power he displayed rivaled a peak Qi Refinement cultivator. It didn’t make sense. I was at mid Qi Refinement myself. Normally, the difference between minor realms was already vast, and the gap between major realms was insurmountable.

  Yet here I was, utterly overwhelmed by a Qi Gathering practitioner.

  No. Focus.

  He had to be an exception to the rule. Or more likely, he had been hiding his strength all this time, and what I had witnessed before was merely a fa?ade. That explanation fit his absurd, explosive growth far better. With careful estimation, his true realm might even be Core Formation.

  If that were the case, then I was absurdly lucky that we were inside the Earthly Seal Domain, where all cultivators were forcibly suppressed to Qi Refinement. If not for that restriction, I would have died the instant we crossed paths.

  Of course, not all hope was lost.

  I still had my artifacts. I still had several precious treasures personally lent to me by the Sect Master. The thought of running away never once crossed my mind. As a Shadow, retreat was only permitted when the mission itself demanded it. And more importantly—

  There was still a chance.

  A violent explosion tore the river apart.

  Water blasted outward, exposing me to the open air as the current screamed away from my body. I looked up.

  Yakuza Man stood suspended above the river, casually hovering as if gravity were merely a suggestion. He looked down at me with mild irritation, bat resting on his shoulder.

  “Don’t think too much about it,” he said. “I’m ‘restricted’ from murdering anyone, so you won’t die. It’s gonna hurt though.”

  A chill crawled up my spine.

  No. I had to fight back.

  This was good. Outside Xincheng, there were no formations, no collateral constraints. At Qi Refinement, the quality of one’s qi increased exponentially, allowing a cultivator to influence nature, the self, and even fate itself.

  I steadied my breathing and thrust my sword forward.

  “Starplasma Severance!”

  In a single, decisive motion, my blade erupted with brilliant starplasma, arcs of condensed astral light tearing through the air as they rushed straight toward him. The river beneath us split further, the attack carrying my full intent.

  Yakuza Man grinned.

  “Now that takes me back,” he said lightly, “but it’s a bit lacking.”

  He parried.

  Just like that.

  His bat met my sword-light, and the starplasma scattered as if struck by a heavenly wall, carving yet another path through what remained of the river.

  H–how?

  My pupils shrank as disbelief seized me.

  “My turn,” he said cheerfully.

  He raised the bat overhead.

  The sky darkened.

  Clouds churned unnaturally, spiraling inward as if drawn by an unseen hand. The pressure alone made my bones creak.

  “Your sect probably possesses a sliver of ‘his’ legacy,” Yakuza Man continued. “Watch closely. What I’m about to show you is one of his inheritances.”

  His eyes gleamed.

  “The power to bestow punishment from the heavens.”

  Who…?

  Even in the face of imminent death, my curiosity burned brighter than fear.

  “Heavenly Punishment.”

  He swung the bat downward.

  The heavens split.

  An enormous golden sword formed in the sky, vast and divine, its edge crackling with authority beyond mortal comprehension. It descended toward me with overwhelming fury, carrying judgment itself.

  Ah.

  So this was it.

  No amount of treasure would be able to contend against that.

  The thought crossed my mind calmly. Strangely, I didn’t feel regret, only a faint bitterness at how absurdly outmatched I had been.

  Then darkness took me.

  —

  “Hey, hey! Wake up!”

  A sharp slap struck my face.

  “You still need to give me the antidote! Shit! If you don’t wake up, I’ll send you to the deepest pits of hell!”

  I gasped and opened my eyes.

  Rain poured down on me.

  No, this wasn’t rain.

  It was river water, cascading from above.

  “Huh…?”

  I stared dazedly at what used to be the river. A massive section of it had collapsed inward, forming an enormous lake where flowing water once raged.

  Yakuza Man loomed over me, irritation written plainly on his face. He slapped me again, harder this time.

  “The antidote,” he snapped. “You piece of shit. Hurry up, will you?!”