Lin Hao tapped his temple, the system interface overlaying his vision. Wolf Spider’s holographic data pulsed—D-grade intermediate, venom sacs at 78% capacity. "Prioritize Subject 002 for Monarch-grade Enhancement."
Ding! 10,000,000 taels deducted. Monarch-grade Enhancement complete.
The Wolf Spider shuddered as its carapace thickened, blackened veins spreading like fractal lightning across its body. Lin Hao’s Myriad Gold Card dimmed—balance now a mere 5,000,000. He ignored the sting, selecting [Advancement].
Ding! 1,000,000 taels consumed. Subject 002 upgraded to C-grade. New skill acquired: Thousand-Layer Silk Web.
The Spider raised its forelegs, joints creaking with hydraulic precision. Lin Hao turned to the Kung Fu Fly. "No favorites." Another 2,000,000 vanished into the system’s maw. Twin evolution beams engulfed both creatures.
When the light faded, the Fly’s wings hummed at supersonic frequencies. The Spider crouched low, abdomen swelling with viscous fluid. Their updated stats scrolled:
[Kung Fu Fly - C-grade Advanced]
Combat Power: 4,000
Skill: Bloodscythe Limbs
[Wolf Spider - C-grade Advanced]
Combat Power: 6,000
Skills: Lethal Venom, Thousand-Layer Silk Web
"Demonstrate," Lin Hao ordered.
The Spider lunged. A marble-sized silk pellet shot ceilingward, detonating into a gossamer net that descended upon the wooden desk. Acid sizzled—mahogany dissolved into smoking sludge within seconds.
"Impressive." Lin Hao traced a claw through residual fumes. Even his dragon-arm scales hissed under the corrosive mist. "Perfect for... uninvited guests."
Thunder rattled the windows. Across the city, Zhao Manor seethed with activity. Servants scoured rain-slicked alleys, lanterns bobbing like desperate fireflies.
In the main hall, Patriarch Zhao Gaolie gripped his armrests until the rosewood cracked. "Two days! How does a blind rat vanish from my own estate?!"
Steward Zhao Rong bowed lower, rainwater dripping from his oilskin cloak. "Master, the Third Young Master... isn’t ordinary."
He recounted the financial chamber incident—how Lin Hao’s milky eyes had tracked moving coins, the whispered incantation that froze a servant mid-step. Zhao Gaolie’s knuckles whitened.
"A mage? Inconceivable!" The patriarch surged to his feet, ancestral portraits trembling on the walls. "The Lin Clan pawned off their cripple, yet we’ve harbored a diamond?!"
Zhao Rong produced a scroll stamped with a serpentine seal. "The Nether Pavilion’s trial mission—assassinate a target codenamed ‘Jing Ke.’ Intelligence suggests..."
Recognition flashed in Zhao Gaolie’s eyes. "The fly and spider wielder at the auction!"
"Precisely." The steward unrolled the dossier. Sketches showed a masked figure flanked by oversized arthropods. "Our agents traced residual venom at Ma Feiyu’s assassination site—identical to the Spider’s toxin."
The patriarch’s laughter boomed. "Let the hunting dogs chase shadows. We’ll secure our gem first!"
He snapped fingers. Twenty cloaked figures materialized from shadowed corners—the Zhao Shadowblades, each bearing twin hooked daggers. "Find Lin Hao. Alive."
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As the assassins melted into the storm, Zhao Gaolie stroked his jade ring. "Prepare the ancestral awakening chamber. When he returns, we’ll test this... miracle."
Unaware of the gathering storm, Lin Hao meditated cross-legged on his rented bed. Zhar’goth’s presence coiled at the edge of his consciousness, restless.
"Fools scramble beneath us. Why not paint the streets with their entrails?"
Lin Hao’s lips twitched. "Patience. Let them taste hope before despair."
The Fly hovered sentry by the window, wings parsing vibrations in the downpour. Five blocks east, boot soles squelched mud—twenty-three pairs, approaching in lethal silence.
Ding! Hostile entities detected. Combat probability 97.3%.
Lin Hao stretched, scales rippling across his right arm. "Seems tuition’s due early."
The Spider skittered up the wall, spinneret glistening. Somewhere in the downpour, a Shadowblade captain froze—his last sight a silken net blooming like death’s chrysanthemum.
----------------------------------------
Violence Begets Violence
The alley reeked of damp stone and blood. Third Steward Qin Chi’s scream echoed off the walls as he crawled backward, hands clawing at his ruined face. Lin Hao stood motionless, rainwater dripping from his cloak. The Kung Fu Fly hovered nearby, its blades glistening with crimson.
“Y-you…monster…” Qin Chi gurgled through a mouthful of severed tongue. His remaining eye rolled wildly toward the Wolf Spider crouched on a nearby crate.
Lin Hao tilted his head, listening to the wet slap of retreating footsteps. The six thugs lay moaning in the muck, their severed hands scattered like grotesque petals. “Monster?” He knelt, scales rippling across his right arm as he gripped Qin Chi’s collar. “You came to silence a blind man. What did you expect—poetry?”
The stewards had found him at dawn’s first light, their lanterns cutting through the mist like jaundiced eyes. Lin Hao’s enhanced hearing had tracked their approach from three blocks away—the clink of hidden blades, the labored breathing of men who’d spent the night combing gutters.
“Break his legs!” Qin Chi had snarled, limping forward with a butcher’s grin. “Cut out that lying tongue!”
The Fly struck first.
A black blur severed the knife-wielder’s wrist mid-swing. The thug stared dumbly at his stump as arterial spray painted the alley walls. Chaos erupted. Swords clattered against the Fly’s alloy limbs, sparks dancing in the half-light. Lin Hao leaned against a mossy wall, Wolf Spider nestled in his pocket.
“Enough.”
At his mental command, the Spider launched its silk—a gossamer net that ensnared Qin Chi’s face. The steward collapsed, frothing as neurotoxins seized his nervous system. His thugs fared worse. The Fly’s blades became a hummingbird’s wings, precise and lethal. Five hands thudded to the cobblestones in quick succession.
Now, dawn bled through the clouds. Lin Hao released Qin Chi, letting the steward slump into a puddle. “Tell your brother at Tianyan Academy,” he murmured, “I’ll visit soon.”
The threat hung in the air as Lin Hao turned toward Zhao Manor. Behind him, the Spider spun containment webs around the maimed men—thick cocoons that muted their whimpers. City guards would find them by midday, alive but irrevocably broken.
At the manor gates, Steward Zhao Rong awaited. The old man’s rheumy eyes widened at Lin Hao’s approach. “Third Young Master! The patriarch demands—”
“Breakfast first.” Lin Hao brushed past, Fly alighting on his shoulder. “I hear the kitchen’s congee is exceptional today.”
The dining hall fell silent as he entered. Servants froze mid-task, their gazes darting between Lin Hao and the blood-flecked Fly. Patriarch Zhao Gaolie sat at the head table, a roasted pheasant cooling on his plate.
“Nephew.” The patriarch’s voice boomed with false warmth. “We’ve been…concerned.”
Lin Hao seated himself, Wolf Spider emerging to lap at a bowl of goat’s milk. “Business in the city detained me.”
“Business?” Zhao Gaolie’s knuckles whitened around a jade chopstick. “Of what nature?”
The Fly buzzed lazily. Lin Hao smiled. “Animal husbandry.”
Across the room, a serving girl dropped a teapot. Porcelain shattered. No one moved to clean it.
“I see.” The patriarch’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Perhaps after breakfast, you’ll demonstrate these…husbandry skills in the training yard?”
Lin Hao sipped his tea, scales retreating beneath his sleeve. “With pleasure.”
As the household pretended to eat, whispers slithered through the rafters:
The Third Young Master walks with demons…
Qin Chi’s faction never returned…
Even the patriarch fears him now…
Lin Hao’s chopsticks paused over a dumpling. The Spider’s venom sacs pulsed in sync with his heartbeat. Somewhere beyond these walls, Tianyan Academy’s bells tolled—a sonorous challenge.
The game was changing. Pawns became queens. And in the shadows, a certain blind player smiled, savoring the taste of fermented bean paste and impending storm.