Chapter One: The Demon Suppression Bureau

Jincheng.

Slum district.

The night was dark and the wind was high.

“The weather is dry, beware of fire! Lock your doors and windows, guard against thieves.”

*Knock knock knock...*

*Clang!*

The sound of the night watchman striking his bamboo tube and gong echoed through the alleys.

Only then did Bai Li Feihong realize it was the third watch, midnight.

“Time for sleep.”

He gazed at his home.

Bare walls, nothing of value—no thief would spare it a second thought.

Suddenly, a shrill scream pierced the silence.

Bai Li Feihong, lying in bed pondering his troubles, jolted upright like a carp flipping in water, swiftly closed and secured the doors and windows.

Best not to get caught in any crossfire.

“That was the night watchman’s voice,” Bai Li Feihong was certain.

“Hurry, after it! We can’t let this demon recover its strength!”

An anxious voice came from above, across the tiled roofs.

A flurry of footsteps, and several tiles snapped underfoot.

Bai Li Feihong wanted to curse. It had rained two nights ago, the roof tiles leaked, and his room became a cavern of waterfalls. He had worked hard to clamber up and patch the roof.

“You martial arts types—couldn’t you at least follow some traffic rules? There’s a road, yet you insist on running across rooftops for effect. What, does it make you look cool?” he muttered.

The sounds of fierce battle erupted.

At the same time, a blood-curdling howl, laced with a demonic resonance, rippled invisibly through the air.

Bai Li Feihong, still grumbling about others’ conduct, was struck by the demon’s sonic attack. It felt as if his eardrums were splitting; his mind reeled as though his head would explode.

He clutched his ears in agony, veins bulging on his face, eyes bloodshot, twin streams of blood trickling from his nose.

Yet he refused to cry out.

He gritted his teeth and endured.

Suddenly, a cool sensation spread slowly through his mind, sweeping over his entire body.

The torment of the demonic sound assaulting his ears melted away, like snow under the first touch of sunlight.

At that moment, Bai Li Feihong’s attention was wholly seized by this miraculous, refreshing power blooming in his consciousness.

It was as if a singularity had exploded, birthing infinite gravity, forming a black hole that drew in all his memories and absorbed them.

His mind went blank.

But soon, the black hole burst, and starlight filled the depths of his consciousness.

The points of light swiftly coalesced into a book.

Skill Book:

Owner: Bai Li Feihong

Skill Points: 10 (Skills can be upgraded or synthesized)

Skill 1: Culinary Arts, Beginner (Experience: 90/100)

Skill 2: Street Fighting Skills, Beginner (Experience: 90/100)

Skill 3: Harmony of Waist and Horse, Proficient (Experience: 90/200)

Bai Li Feihong felt his sturdy waist—solid muscle, the kind spoken of in legends as the “waist of a hound.”

He couldn’t help but laugh wryly when he recalled his occupation.

A dock laborer.

His body was tough as iron.

“A system? A cheat? A superpower?”

Silence answered him.

Yet Bai Li Feihong was undeterred.

Why be disappointed? He was positively delighted.

A Skill Book.

By accumulating experience, he could upgrade his skills, and with the bug-like existence of skill points, he could instantly level up or even synthesize new skills.

Boom!

The roof was blown off, tiles scattered, even the main roof beam snapped.

Bai Li Feihong rolled nimbly to the door, shot it open, and fled outside.

Crash!

An invisible shockwave swept through, not only destroying his house but leveling the entire alley with overwhelming force.

He was thrown ten feet by the energy, slamming into a wall.

Ignoring the pain, Bai Li Feihong scrambled up and ran for his life.

“Heaven-Splitting Blade, Strike!”

A clear, commanding voice rang out.

In the pitch-black sky, the silver moon shone bright as a figure descended from above, blade in both hands, its arc gleaming as she struck down in a motion to sever a river—a single slash aimed at a massive, humanoid bat demon.

A gentle breeze brushed past her hair, the silver light illuminating her, blade sheathed with grace; clad in black, she radiated heroic spirit, the very image of a warrior goddess, captivating Bai Li Feihong’s gaze.

The bat demon, cleaved by the water-severing blade, dissolved into azure mist, dissipating visibly into nothingness.

“Is this... martial arts?” he murmured.

He gazed upon the alley, now reduced to rubble.

Many impoverished folk had lost their lives in their sleep to the aftermath of the battle.

More still were buried under collapsed homes.

Luckily, the buildings were low, made with scant material.

The injured crawled out from the ruins, covered in dust and blood.

Gongyang Yan knitted her brows, displeasure evident. “This area is home to the poor, Zheng Yishan. Why did you fight here?”

“Lord Warden, the fault is mine. I was focused solely on slaying the demon and thought of nothing else,” replied a middle-aged man in ornate robes, bowing with feigned humility.

But his expression was calm, and a hint of disdain flickered in his eyes. It was not aimed at Gongyang Yan, but at these mud-legged peasants. Their deaths would at least ease the overpopulation of Dongbin City.

Gongyang Yan was clearly dissatisfied with Zheng Yishan’s reply, but the local Department of Exorcists was complicated—she had just taken office and had yet to establish control.

“Handle the compensation with the City Lord’s Office,” she instructed curtly, then leapt into the air and strode away effortlessly.

The city patrol soon flooded in, cordoning off the street.

Zheng Yishan curled his lip, complete disdain in his gaze.

“Sir, sir,” came the wheezing voice of the black-uniformed patrol captain, a fat man who ran over, bowing obsequiously.

“Captain Zhang, all damages, casualties, and injuries are to be compensated by the Department of Exorcists. Have your men record everything.”

Zheng Yishan lowered his head. “Apply at the highest standard, by order of Lady Gongyang.”

Captain Zhang’s eyes lit up. “Understood, sir. I’ll see to it personally.”

“Lady Gongyang is an upright person. Don’t judge her with a small mind. Handle it according to the six-two-two arrangement; send my share to my residence.”

“Yes sir, you won’t be disappointed.”

“Good. Get to work.”

Not far from the scene, Bai Li Feihong curled his lip, having overheard everything.

He kept silent.

If he spoke out, the list of casualties from tonight’s demon attack would surely grow by one more.

Six-two-two wasn’t terrible—at least two-tenths would reach the victims, enough to keep him from destitution.

With that thought, he collapsed in pain, groaning.

Zheng Yishan glanced at him, a faint smile playing at his lips. Some things must not be shared with the uninitiated. This big fellow looked slow, but clearly had sharp ears—yet he was shrewd enough.

“Handle it well. Don’t stir up trouble,” Zheng Yishan ordered, then strode off.

Captain Zhang returned to a stern demeanor.

“You there, Lu, come here. Organize the men to tally the dead, wounded, and damaged property. I want a full report by morning.”

After issuing instructions, Captain Zhang, preoccupied with thoughts of his fair and lovely wife at home, hurried away.

“Get up, stop pretending,” Officer Lu kicked Bai Li Feihong.

“Sir, I’m seriously injured, and now I’m homeless. How am I supposed to live?” Bai Li Feihong replied bitterly.

“The Exorcists will compensate you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

...

Bai Li Feihong weighed the heavy silver coins in his hand.

His mind kept replaying the bizarre world he now inhabited.

This era was at the dawn of the Industrial Revolution.

Dongbin City, by the sea, boasted the second-largest port in the Yuan Empire, making it a hub of commerce.

Yet in recent years, the government had become corrupt, demons and monsters ran rampant, rebels were stirring unrest, and foreign powers eyed the nation hungrily. In short, it was a chaotic time.

The Department of Exorcists had been established for some time—a special agency tasked with combating supernatural threats.

Lately, the rise of firearms had begun to threaten their authority.

But without question, the Exorcists held a unique position throughout the Yuan Empire.

This Yuan was not the Yuan Dynasty of old.

“My house was compensated with twenty silver coins, my injuries with three.”

“A six-two-two split—how black-hearted.”

Luckily, silver retained strong purchasing power.

“It’s much like the late Qing and early Republic period,” Bai Li Feihong mused. The steam age was in full swing, with rapid industrial development.

The only drawback was the frequent appearance of demons and strange creatures.

Nor was this unique to the Yuan Empire—all foreign nations suffered the same fate.

Humanity’s very survival was threatened by deadly forces from outside.

But this shared external threat had lessened human wars.

After all, there was a common enemy now.

He glanced again at his Skill Book.

Three main skills:

Cooking, brawling, and manual labor.

Bai Li Feihong eyed his silver coins. He could invest all ten skill points into cooking and start a business with his initial capital.

Given the culinary repertoire he had seen in his past life, he was certain that once he introduced new dishes, life would quickly improve.

But the restaurant business was a tough trade.

As a dock laborer, he’d seen the underbelly of this world.

No, in any chaotic era, such problems were inevitable—gangs, turf wars, protection rackets.

Even if business thrived, without background or connections, it would all come to nothing—or worse, attract envy and trouble.

Take the imperial exam? That road was all but closed. With the gentry in power, what hope was there for ordinary men?

Join the military? In the Yuan army, unless you wanted to be cannon fodder, there was little future.

“The Patrol? The Exorcists?”

His eyes shone at the thought of the Department of Exorcists.

Gongyang Yan, a woman, had become Warden by her own martial prowess, not connections.

“What man hasn’t dreamed of martial arts?”

“The only question is, how do I step onto the path of martial cultivation?”

Unconsciously, he had wandered to Prosperity Street.

The busiest street in southern Dongbin, it bustled with merchants, carts, and crowds.

There were dark-skinned Kunlun slaves, lofty, golden-haired Westerners, and short, ugly Easterners from Nippon.

They spent gold and silver to buy spices, porcelain, and tea, which they shipped overseas for tenfold profit.

That was in the past.

Now, with open borders, Yuan merchants traversed the globe, exporting goods in exchange for endless silver and gold.

This was why, despite endemic corruption, the Yuan Empire remained strong and unchallenged.

It gathered the world’s wealth for its own enjoyment.

“A martial arts school?”

He stopped before the Four Seas Martial Hall.

Martial arts and martial cultivation were entirely different concepts.

The methods taught in martial halls served only to strengthen the body, keep the limbs agile, and provide basic self-defense.

True secret arts of martial cultivation were never taught openly.

“With my Skill Book as a cheat, I could learn martial techniques here and at least gain some ability for self-preservation.”

He pocketed his silver coins and stepped into the Four Seas Martial Hall.

“Brother, here to learn the arts?” asked a man.

A two-story shop, with the first floor serving as the reception hall, recruiting apprentices as assistants—clearly, the hall master was a shrewd businessman.

“Big brother, times are hard. I’d like to learn some self-defense, but my purse is light. Could you tell me about the fees?”

Hearing of his financial straits, Zheng Ada looked him over: coarse hemp clothes, patched shoes, in tatters.

But his master had made it clear: all guests must be received—turning anyone away would earn him a severe punishment.

“How should I address you, brother?” Zheng Ada put on a wide smile.

“My surname is Bai Li, Bai Li Feihong. May I ask your name, brother?”

“I’m called Zheng, Ada is my given name.”

“Could you please tell me more about your school?”

“Our Four Seas Martial Hall is well-known in Dongbin. The hall master is a martial artist who has cultivated five levels of vital energy, skilled in the Four Seas Fist and Blood River Sabre. His sabre technique is so sublime that he can hold his own against even six-level martial artists.”

“Five levels of vital energy? There are ranks in martial arts? How does your master compare with the Exorcists’ Warden?”

Zheng Ada smiled wryly. “Like the difference between clouds and mud. The Warden is like a celestial being—no comparison. My master once said, even if the city’s whole garrison worked together with firearms, they might not overcome the Warden.”

Though he’d expected as much, Bai Li Feihong couldn’t help but feel disappointed at how limited martial arts schools were.

Indeed, true methods were never taught to outsiders.

The Yuan Empire kept its martial secrets tightly guarded.

“If I wish to study here, may I become the hall master’s disciple?”

“Anyone can, but new students begin as external apprentices. If you develop vital energy through training, you may then become an inner disciple and learn the Blood River Sabre.”

At the mention of the inner teachings, a trace of longing flashed in Zheng Ada’s eyes.

To practice the Blood River Sabre, one needed at least one level of vital energy.

“How does external training work?”

“A fee of two silver coins allows you to learn the complete Four Seas Fist in a month. If you wish to continue, it’s two coins per month, with access to senior apprentices for questions. The hall master also teaches the Four Seas Fist once a month for deeper understanding.”

Zheng Ada looked at Bai Li Feihong, hoping he would enroll—if he recruited three more apprentices this month, he’d have his own fees waived.

Bai Li Feihong fished in his pocket for a long while, finally producing two silver coins.

With hope in his eyes he asked, “Brother Zheng, how do I pay the fees?”

“Brother Bai Li, wait a moment. The hall master is here today; I’ll fetch him.”

Two silver coins—a sum equal to a month’s expenses for a family of three.

Yet the tuition at Four Seas Martial Hall was not expensive.

By Bai Li Feihong’s estimate, a silver coin’s purchasing power was about a thousand yuan in his previous life.

The Yuan Empire mainly used copper coins.

Silver coins were a new currency, officially valued at one tael of silver, or one hundred copper coins.

There were also gold coins, but Bai Li Feihong had never seen one.