In fewer than ten breaths, the server led over a plump middle-aged man.

  "Sir, I am Reza, the manager of The Treasure Pavilion. What can I do for you, sir?" Reza hadn't even reached Stirling before he bowed and smiled while he spoke.

  "Oh, of course, it's important." Stirling glanced around but remained silent.

  Seeing this, Reza gestured with one hand and said, "Sir, let us talk inside."

  The two went one after the other to a private room at the back of the hall. Reza first brewed Stirling a cup of hot tea in person, then said with a smile:

  "Sir, the Treasure Pavilion has always been law-abiding. The big boss has just returned to the Karl's in the inner city. If there's anything wrong with what we've done, we hope you'll be lenient."

  Stirling snorted coldly. After all, the fat man was experienced as a businessman. First, he took a humble stance. Then, he highlighted his background. This mix of firmness and diplomacy was a strategy that had worked every time before.

  "Don't give me that nonsense. Someone reported you for illegally selling contraband from the Upper Sect." Stirling's tone was impatient.

  "Ah!! This!" Reza's face changed by leaps and bounds, and he immediately kneeled down with a thud.

  "Your honor! We are only a small business; how could I dare touch anything from the Upper Sect!? I don't know where you heard this news, Your Honor, but someone must be framing me!"

  Wow, this sentence scared Reza so much that he changed the appellation, which surprised Stirling.

  "What are you panicking about? I'm here to investigate! Night Watch has been investigating the outer malice incident for a long time. We finally have got a lead pointing to you. You're telling me there isn't any?" Stirling looked down at the kneeling Reza and said coldly.

  "Your honor, an investigation is an investigation, but you cannot say whatever you want! Possessing external malice is a capital offence!" Reza pleaded, kneeling on the ground, too afraid to move. This gave Stirling a deeper understanding of the prestige of shrines like Yearning.

  "What a joke! What hasn't The Treasure Pavilion sold? Do you think we're just sitting around doing nothing?!" Stirling had never been a police officer, but he had seen many movies. So, he understood some torture methods from them. He sneered without a fuss, continuing to psychologically pressure Reza.

  "Your honor, this… I've already paid this month's offerings!" Reza clearly misunderstood this unexpected trouble.

  "…"

  Stirling chuckled with a chill. He squatted down, looking at Reza's fat face, and said in a low voice, "I'm not here to ask you for offerings; I'm here to investigate a case!"

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Reza was puzzled. When did the Night Watch become so concerned about the Patrol Shaman's case?

  However, Reza was aware of the recent uproar surrounding the Pathos malice. He considered his options with a fine-toothed comb.

  "Sir, even if this stuff could circulate, it wouldn't reach my small shop. Only the big shots in the inner city can afford it."

  "Yet, there is a place in the outer city that malice has affected. I'm not sure if it is connected to that issue."

  Stirling's eyes lit up, thinking he had finally taken the bait. He grabbed Reza by the back of his collar and asked,

  "Tell me."

  "The Gray Spector." Reza struggled to speak.

  Stirling released Reza's collar, his eyes narrowing a tad.

  This wasn't the first time Stirling had heard this name. As the largest gang in the outer city, they certainly had access to these under-the-table items. Thinking this, Stirling stood up slowly. He glanced at Reza, who was kneeling on the ground, and continued:

  "Don't breathe a word to anyone. Otherwise, even the Karls of the inner city can't protect you." With that, Stirling opened the wooden door of the cubicle and strode out.

  "Where did this madman come from?" Seeing Stirling leave, Reza's pained expression finally subsided. He shook his head and stood up, completely devoid of his previous fear.

  "It seems the matter of outer malice is far from over. I need to speak with the boss." Reza stroked his chin, muttering to himself.

  "Who do you want to speak to?" Out of nowhere, a familiar voice hit Reza's ears, and his expression changed completely. Stirling, who had left before, was now in the doorway, looking at him with a mocking smile.

  "You… you didn't leave?" Reza's face paled. He hadn't expected this young man to be even more cunning than he was.

  "If I left, I would miss such exciting stories." Stirling sneered and walked towards Reza.

  "Ah, your honor, I swear my lips are sealed!" Reza's hands trembled with fear as he saw Stirling approach.

  "Your chubby hands flip fast, don't they?" Stirling grabbed Reza and, with a , drew his blade and held it to his neck.

  "If I hear about what happened today from anyone else, I guarantee the Karls won't be able to save you." Stirling shoved Reza aside, put away his blade, let out a cold snort, and left the cubicle again. Reza, scared out of his wits, saw Stirling leave and immediately touched his neck, only to find it stained crimson. Frightened, he couldn't call for help. He searched the room upside down. At last, he found a towel to wrap around his neck and wheezed.

  Stirling stepped out of the Treasure Pavilion and looked back. Then, he vanished into the crowd without a word.

  A short while later, Stirling reappeared in a secluded alley.

  In Farfield City's outer town, these dead-end alleys were the most dangerous places.

  The alleys are busy with three-story shops. Yet, they might hide a rotting corpse right around the corner.

  The town's security was terrible. In this chaotic environment, crimes like rape and kidnapping happened all the time.

  Some might ask why, despite Yearning's wet dream, people still commit such terrible acts.

  The answer is simple: dreaming and actually touching are two different things. From day one of the Yearning Palace taking over Farfield City, brothels in the area have done well.

  Stirling arrived at the corner of the alley and found the ground covered in excrement and urine. The pungent stench assaulted his nostrils, forcing him to cover his nose.

  Stirling thought to himself, but still took out a lump of dough from his pocket and began kneading it in his hands.

  This dough was what Stirling had got from a roadside noodle stall. Of course, thanks to his flying cloud robes, the owner hadn't charged him.

  Once Stirling had kneaded the dough, he flattened it in his palm. Then, he squeezed it into a thin layer and used his fingernail to carve the words onto it.

  Stirling then peered at the dough in his hand, and soon a line of text appeared:

  [Current enhancement requires a 21 - day lifespan. Enhance?]