Underground Chamber — Qianqiu Pavilion
The passage descended like a throat leading into hell.
The deeper they went, the thicker the air became—
a nauseating sweetness of premium incense mixed with rotting blood.
At the end lay a stone chamber.
Too large.
Too warm.
It wasn't a torture den.
Paintings adorned the walls. Soft carpets covered the floor. The space felt almost… domestic. Like a nursery prepared with care.
In the center sat an old man with silver hair and kindly features.
Master Yu.
He held a carving knife in one hand—and in the other, a human leg bone streaked with fresh blood. He stroked it gently, the way one might soothe a sleeping child.
"Shh…" he murmured without turning. One finger, dusted with bone powder, pressed softly to his lips.
"Quiet now. Little Lian just fell asleep. She cried all day—took me ages to calm her."
If not for the mangled flesh piled at his feet, the scene might almost have seemed peaceful.
Iris's gaze swept the chamber.
Bone saws. Flaying knives. Surgical hooks. Precision tools, all polished to a mirror sheen.
Her voice cut cold through the room.
"Asleep?"
"You said she cried?"
She stepped forward, pointing at the bone in his arms.
"Hyperemic periosteum. Stress fractures along the cut surface. These injuries only happen when the victim is conscious—muscles contracting, nerves screaming."
Her eyes locked onto his.
"You carved her alive."
Yu didn't react to the accusation. He merely wiped the blood from the bone with tender care.
"Pain is temporary," he said softly. "Like a child getting a needle. Endure it… and she reaches the new world."
He looked up, eyes shining with sincere devotion.
"The world outside is cruel—famine, war, men who hurt them. I saved these girls."
"I turned them into sacred bone tokens, sealed them in red clay, sent them to the capital as offerings to the gods."
"When the god descends," he whispered, smiling, "they'll be the first angels to receive salvation."
"Insane."
Prince Chen didn't bother masking his disgust. This wasn't cruelty—it was something far worse.
He leveled his sword at Yu's throat.
"Where are the shipments going?"
Yu clutched the bone protectively.
"I can't say… the god would be angry. He's watching me…"
Click.
A faint mechanical sound echoed within the walls.
Iris's eyes snapped up.
"That wasn't him," she hissed. "External trigger. Kill mechanism!"
The paintings flipped.
Jets of yellow-green corrosive mist erupted from hidden nozzles.
The floor split open.
Yu screamed as acid swallowed him, still clutching the bone as he fell into a pit of spikes.
"I sent them all ahead…" he sobbed. "Why didn't you take me too…?"
He vanished.
The ground beneath Iris collapsed next.
"Su Mo!"
Prince Chen seized her belt mid-fall, his other arm hooking a half-broken beam. Together they dangled above death.
"Hold on!" he growled, veins bulging.
Dust. Bone powder. Acid stench—everything he loathed—coated her.
And yet, he didn't let go.
With a brutal pull, he dragged her upward and slammed her against his chest.
"Don't you dare fall," he snarled into her ear.
"If you die and ruin my eyesight, I'll kill you myself."
Her heart thundered as she clung to his waist.
With a sharp breath, Prince Chen kicked off, launching them through the collapsing ceiling like a black hawk tearing free of smoke.
The chamber imploded behind them.
Everything buried.
All illusions destroyed.
Outside Coffin Lane
They hit the ground hard—filthy, breathless, alive.
Prince Chen stared at his soiled sleeves as if witnessing a personal tragedy.
"Disgusting… absolutely disgusting…"
He scrubbed at his hands obsessively, bordering on hysteria.
Iris sighed.
System. Exchange for antibacterial gel.
[Ding. 10 points deducted. Exchange successful.]
She held out a small, clear bottle.
"Here."
He glared at it. "What is this?"
"Waterless cleanser. From my homeland," she said evenly. "Kills ninety-nine point nine percent of filth. No water needed."
He hesitated—then used it.
The sticky horror vanished. Cool mint and lemon cut through the rot.
His breathing steadied.
He lifted his hands, sniffed once.
Clean.
"How much do you have?" he demanded. "I want all of it."
She smirked. "Plenty. But, Your Highness—"
She pulled out a blood-stained delivery slip torn from the crates before the collapse.
Carrier: Jubao Hall
Recipient: Liu — Rear Gate, City Magistrate Office
Prince Chen's eyes turned glacial.
"So the merchants handle transport," he said quietly, "and the magistrate handles receipt."
His fingers tightened around the paper.
"Come."
He looked toward the city.
"Let's pay Magistrate Liu a visit."