C178 — Kill the Nine-Tailed Fox (14)

When the noise outside started, the most boisterous of the demonic cultivators were the first to come out.

“What are you saying? You dare rob us? Do you even know who we are?”

As soon as the words fell, the head of the demonic cultivator who spoke rolled to the ground.

He had still been holding a prostitute in his arms, and her pale face was instantly splattered with blood. Terrified, she let out a scream, collapsed limply to the ground, and couldn’t even crawl away.

The few demonic cultivators who had been drinking sobered up when they saw their companion killed. Looking up at the massive airship in the distance, they understood they’d encountered someone they couldn’t afford to provoke. They immediately straightened up obediently and set down the wine jars in their hands.

The ship’s captain came out a step later. Seeing the corpse on the deck, he turned and ordered a deckhand to call out all the passengers from their cabins.

These merchant types understood the times better than anyone. Rather than resist and lose their lives, it was better to hand over their valuables honestly. After all, money was an external thing — it could always be earned again later.

When the deckhand knocked on Shen Jue’s cabin door, Shen Jue was still thinking about how to hide his ears. But no matter how many times he changed his form, he failed. Hearing the urgent knocking outside, he had no choice but to put on a black bamboo-hat veil and walk out.

The airship had already come to a halt. A line of people stood on its prow, and from the huge vessel, a group walked down. Their faces were covered with black cloth, and they each carried a black sack. They stopped in front of the passengers.

“Put everything into the bag.”

No one dared resist — they all dropped their valuables inside. Shen Jue was at the very end of the line. He frowned at the storage ring in his hand. He figured there was no way to keep it. If he didn’t hand it over and raised suspicion, that would be even more troublesome. So when the black sack appeared before him, he slipped the storage ring off his finger and tossed it inside.

Once the first round of collecting was done, the robbers didn’t immediately leave. Instead, a tall, broad man swept his gaze over the passengers and called out, “Is this all?”

The captain glanced around and said, “Has everyone handed everything over? Don’t risk your lives over this.”

At his words, a few people looked sullen, but still stepped forward and added more to the black sack.

The man sneered and gave a signal with his eyes to his companions, who immediately went off to search the cabins.

While they searched, the tall man walked over to a few prostitutes. Stroking his chin, he nodded.

“Decent enough looks. You — get over there.”

The prostitutes all looked like they were about to cry, but trembling, they still shuffled toward the big ship. As they reached the side, a wooden gangplank was lowered for them to board.

The man then stepped aside to a young demonic cultivator with delicate features. Again stroking his chin, he said, “You’re not bad either. Get up there.”

The cultivator’s eyes went wide. His money had been stolen, the women taken, and now they wanted to take him? Absolutely not. He immediately began to form a hand-seal, but before he could act, the big man conjured a meteor hammer out of thin air and smashed it hard into his abdomen.

The demonic cultivator was sent flying, skidding across the deck before stopping.

“Die or get up there — your choice.” The meteor hammer was at least as tall as a man, but in the big man’s hand, it looked like a toy.

Spitting a mouthful of blood, the cultivator gasped, “I’ll go, I’ll go!”

Shen Jue’s brows furrowed even tighter. At this rate, there was no way his identity would remain hidden. Just as the big man was about to head toward him, the ones searching the cabins returned, having found plenty more valuables.

So, the big man turned away to check their loot, and Shen Jue quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

The robbers seemed to think they had enough and were about to head back to their ship.

But before they could board, a voice came from that large vessel:

“They haven’t been searched yet — search them again.”

Hearing this, the big man turned back and ordered his men to search.

The one assigned to Shen Jue was short and had a faint black aura between his brows — he looked like a demonic cultivator.

They were already close to the Anhun Sect’s territory; for such a large ship to openly rob people here, it was likely that even if they weren’t part of the Anhun Sect, they were somehow connected.

The man patted Shen Jue’s clothes, his eyes shifting upward.

“Why are you wearing a bamboo hat at night?”

“My face is damaged, so I wear it,” Shen Jue said quietly. “I’ve got nothing on me; I’ve handed it all over.”

As for the Binding Immortal Rope, it was currently tied into his hair — as long as he didn’t use it, others would just think it was an ordinary red hair tie.

The man gave Shen Jue a doubtful look but turned away.

However, the big man came over again, quickly spotting Shen Jue and glaring.

“Take off the hat!”

Shen Jue paused before lifting a hand — he didn’t remove it entirely, just lifted the front cloth.

When the big man saw his face, his eyes flashed with disgust.

“Looking that ugly, don’t go out in public!”

Before the search, Shen Jue had immediately used a disguise spell to change his face.

Because it was rushed, the only image that flashed in his mind was the face of the two-faced snake man, so he’d turned into one of those faces — but even more grotesque.

He lowered his head, looking genuinely apologetic.

The big man snorted and turned away — but after only two steps, he stopped, stood there for a long moment, and then walked back to Shen Jue.

Shen Jue felt a flicker of dread.

The big man stopped in front of him, a strange look in his eyes.

“You too. Get up there.”

Someone must have sent him a sound transmission.

Shen Jue pressed his lips together and could only follow the man toward the big ship.

Running now was impossible — it would be better to see what was going on first.

Once aboard, Shen Jue was locked into a small room with the others.

A quick glance told him this ship was huge — at least several times the size of the one he had just been on.

When he was shoved inside, the pale-faced demonic cultivator from before was lying on the floor groaning, while the prostitutes were huddled together.

Unlike their earlier panic, the group was now whispering among themselves.

“These people seem loaded.”

“Think we can make more money off them?”

“What if they don’t pay and just take advantage for free?”

“Then we eat them out of everything they’ve got!”

…

The injured cultivator seemed unable to stand it anymore, and shouted at the women:

“Can’t you see I’m hurt? Why don’t you come help me?”

“Oh, look at this gentleman,” one of the women sneered. “You can’t even protect yourself — don’t think about using us.”

Another spat at him. “And who do you think you are?”

Shen Jue stayed out of it, finding a corner to sit in.

When the cultivator couldn’t get help from them, he turned his attention to Shen Jue.

“Hey, ugly, come here.”

At that, one of the prostitutes who’d just mocked him said, “Need someone’s help, and you call them ugly? Real impressive.”

Another told Shen Jue, “Little brother, ignore him. We’re all in the same boat here — our life or death, who knows the outcome? There’s no need to take his crap.”

Shen Jue thanked them softly and lowered the black veil in front of his bamboo hat again.

He suspected that the reason they had called him up earlier was because they had discovered something.

If they had found out his true identity, there was a good chance someone would try to sign a contract with him.

Once a spirit beast signed a contract with a cultivator, one crucial clause applied: it was absolutely forbidden to kill its master. However, if the master was killed by someone else, that was a different matter entirely.

…

They remained locked up the whole time; no one came in during the night. The pale-faced cultivator had been energetic enough to curse people earlier, but later—realizing it was pointless—he went quiet.

Meanwhile, Shen Jue was secretly trying to change his ears back to normal, but in the process he accidentally made his tail appear. Fortunately, everyone nearby was asleep and didn’t notice.

It seemed that an entire night passed before Shen Jue felt the ship come to a stop. After a while, someone flung open the door to their room and barked, “All of you, out!”

Shen Jue stood, glanced at the clearly frightened courtesans, and walked in front of them.

The demonic cultivator could no longer stand on his own and had to be dragged out by two of the crew.

The ship had stopped in what looked like a desolate mountain village, with no signs of human life.

They were driven off the ship, their hands bound with rope, and herded toward the outskirts of the settlement.

After walking for who knew how long, Shen Jue saw a massive boulder. On it, in crooked, scrawled handwriting, were three large characters:

“An Hun Men” [Dark Soul Sect].

Though the characters looked like they were written by a child, the stone was covered with dozens of bloody handprints, giving it a sinister, terrifying aura.

When the courtesans saw the words An Hun Men, their faces turned pale.

The bravado they’d shown on the ship the night before had only been to comfort their sisters—everyone knew that the demonic cultivators of the Dark Soul Sect were the most vicious in the world, infamous enough to make even infants stop crying.

Shen Jue, however, had a different reaction. Seeing the words, he thought this would actually save him a lot of trouble—he’d been wondering how to infiltrate the Dark Soul Sect, and now he didn’t even need to try; they were delivering him straight in.

When they reached the sect’s mountain gate, the burly man from last night produced a flying sword large enough to hold dozens of people. They were forced onto it and flown up the mountain.

After quite some time, the sword finally landed.

What greeted them was a towering palace-like building. In front of it were ninety-nine white jade steps, but they were only allowed a glance before being taken away to be locked up somewhere else.

The courtesans had no cultivation and no ability to fast, and after such a long time without food, they were starving. After some hesitation, they approached the gatekeepers to ask if there was anything to eat.

The guards gave them a glance and smirked.

“Why bother eating so much now? You don’t even know if you’ll survive the day.”

At those words, even the pale-faced demonic cultivator’s expression turned white—let alone the courtesans.

They went back to sit down, and some of the more timid ones had already started crying.

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