Deep inside a verdant mountain range, a small sect stood; every structure was built of timber, everything worn and weathered.
In a room at the center of the sect, Fang Wenyu knelt before a wooden cot in a thin black shirt, grief written across his face.
On the cot lay an old man wrapped head to toe in bandages. Feebly, he said, "Wenyu, once I die the sect is yours… and look after little Wan. Our Lingmiao Sect may be small, but its line must not end."
"Master, it's my fault… if I hadn't caused trouble, you wouldn't be like this." Fang Wenyu lowered his head; a tear traced his cheek.
The old man's tone remained steady: "Perhaps all this was fated. I don't ask you to expand the sect, but you must keep little Wan safe. My only granddaughter—doted on her for more than ten years. Now that I'm gone, I don't know what she'll do…"
Hearing this, Fang Wenyu lifted his young, tender face and swore, "I'll protect my junior sister. Whoever wants to hurt her will have to walk over my corpse first!"
"Good… good…" the elder repeated, voice fading until it was gone.
The scene shifted to the Doulin Realm. Fang Wenyu watched the King of the Deep Sea raise a foot.
"No—no—don't touch her!" He shouted, frantic, yet his body refused to move; he could only stare as Qin Wan was slain.
Despair flooded him; tears rolled down his cheeks unnoticed.
At twelve he joined Lingmiao Sect; at fifteen he became a Level Three Martial Artist. With that strength he set out to do what he saw as justice.
He wiped out gangs, killed corrupt officials, executed Awakened Ones who had committed every imaginable crime.
His terrifying talent made it all possible—until, at seventeen, he killed someone he should not have.
A Fourth-level Awakener with backing from the Xuanjian Division. Retaliation came swift and sure.
Had his master—also a fourth-level martial artist—not taken three blows while gravely injured, Lingmiao Sect would have been erased that very day.
A sigh sounded behind him: "Sigh… Wenyu, didn't I tell you to look after little Wan?"
Suddenly able to move, Fang Wenyu turned stiffly.
His master stood there, disappointment written across his face.
"Master!"
Fang Wenyu shouted and snapped his eyes open; harsh light poured in.
Dazed, he found himself in a high-class ward, the faint scent of antiseptic in the air.
He glanced down—bandages everywhere, an IV drip beside him.
Rustle!
A curtain drew back; Qin Wan stared at him oddly. "Grandpa's been gone ages and you still dream about him. Wouldn't you rather dream about me?"
Fang Wenyu said nothing, leaning back and staring blankly as memories of the dream washed over him.
The dream had felt so real—so real he'd believed Qin Wan was dead, believed his master had truly stood behind him to rebuke him.
"Cat got your tongue? That monster didn't keep punching your head—don't tell me you've gone simple." Qin Wan chattered on, worry creeping into her eyes.
As though afraid the blows had left him a fool.
Fang Wenyu turned and looked straight at her.
The stare made her lower her head shyly, twisting. "Xiao Yuyu, we're in a hospital. If you want to eat me up, at least wait till no one's watching."
Still silent, Fang Wenyu turned back to the ceiling.
He wondered where the innocent little junior sister he once knew had gone; now she was flirtier than Pleasant Goat.
"What happened after I blacked out? Tell me." He kept his eyes on the ceiling.
Qin Wan's expression turned grave. "Long Zhengqing died. If the Director hadn't arrived in time, most of us wouldn't have made it back."
"Dead… never thought a guy like him would end there—how ironic." Fang Wenyu's eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
Before the Monster Association surfaced they'd grown content; their strength had barely budged.
Now, battered and broken, he hungered for power once more.
Qin Wan went on, "The Deputy Director seat's vacant. The Director intends to pick either you or Jiang Ao. With the Association pressing in, that post will carry far more authority than in peacetime."
Fang Wenyu's eyes narrowed; under outside pressure the Deputy Director of Xuanjian Division would stand among the handful who ruled the Thirteen Prefectures.
The Emperor of Nanwu Country, two Level Six experts—then the Deputy Director of Xuanjian Division.
"Xiao Yuyu, you're mute again. Do you want that deputy post or not?" Qin Wan pouted, sulking at his silence.
"Yes—why wouldn't I? The Awakened circles of Nanwu Country need shaking up. Officials shouldn't grant so much privilege to rogue Awakened: killing at will, extorting tycoons, running cities in name of the kingdom while treating them as private fiefs." His voice stayed calm, but anger flashed in his eyes.
He came from common folk, rising from the very bottom.
Even as a youth he'd been unable to stomach injustice, constantly stepping in to demand redress.
Yet the stronger he grew and the faster he slew, the more villains seemed to sprout.
He finally realized one man's blade was too slow—he needed to join Xuanjian Division and lead others in the killing.
He had no grand philosophy, no wish to save the misguided; he simply knew evildoers deserved death.
'If I become Deputy Director, even if I can't wipe out every scoundrel, I can purge the stench fouling Nanwu—clans and Awakened alike will be brought to heel!'
With that thought he resolved to fight for the post—and not let another paper-pushing 'Long Zhengqing' take the seat.