Chapter 48: The Department of Anomalous Affairs
In a quiet, modest room, two cups of tea sat on the table. One belonged to Song Yue, the other to the old wolf with a limp, sitting across from him, legs crossed, humming a tune with evident delight.
Both were newcomers, assigned to the same office. Yet the old wolf was a special advisor, his status somewhat unique. Song Yue, on the other hand, was the kind of fresh-faced recruit nobody paid much attention to—so it fell to him to make the tea.
Their mentor had brought Song Yue here, handed him over to the old wolf, and then retreated into another office, likely to discuss the events of the previous night. That left Song Yue and the old wolf alone, staring at each other.
Song Yue had countless questions for this mysterious wolf. What was Wang Jie’s true identity? What was the origin of that enormous killer whale? He’d killed the head of the Zhang family from the Xingwu Martial Hall—how would that be handled? His master and mistress hadn’t told him much last night; the mentor urged him not to think about anything, to focus on honing himself in the Bureau of Anomalous Affairs, and to train diligently in martial arts. Everything else, he needn’t worry about. His mistress only said Wang Jie’s identity was special, and it was better not to know than to know.
Clearly, both elders who knew the truth had no intention of telling him. Song Yue was left scratching his head, unable to ask more, especially after noticing his mentor’s weakness, which weighed heavily on his heart. His mentor refused to mention the matter at all.
Song Yue could only silently vow that, if ever given the chance, he would seek out the world’s finest medicine for his mentor—he would cure him, no matter what!
“How should I address you? Uncle Wolf?” Song Yue looked at the gaunt, bespectacled old man before him, whose scholarly appearance belied the image in Song Yue’s mind—a wolf grandmother with glasses.
The old wolf was keenly perceptive. One look at Song Yue’s eyes, and he knew what unsavory thoughts lurked within. He warned, “You’d better show me some respect, kid! This time, I’m taking the fall for you!”
Then he said, “Addressing someone comes from the heart. Call me whatever you like. If you’re happy calling me Wolf Granny, that’s fine too.”
Song Yue was speechless. The old wolf was as sly and shrewd as they came.
“I’ll call you Uncle Wolf, then. Can you tell me—”
Song Yue barely started before the old wolf waved him off. “Your master won’t tell you, so why would I? Remember, there are many things where not knowing is far happier than knowing!”
“For example, the Bureau of Anomalous Affairs—had you heard of it before?”
Song Yue shook his head. He vaguely knew there were special government departments handling matters beyond ordinary comprehension, but the specifics eluded him.
The old wolf sighed, “If none of this had happened, your master would never have put you here. This place is a mixed bag—not exactly good company...”
As he spoke, a tall, bearded elder approached the door, gesturing politely. “Master, please, after you.” The mentor entered, accompanied by the elder.
The old wolf fell silent, his face a bit embarrassed—he’d just disparaged the Bureau, only for the subject to overhear. Yet the bearded elder seemed not to mind, instead agreeing, “Quite right, the Bureau of Anomalous Affairs has never been a good place!”
His voice was booming, his smile warm as he looked at Song Yue. “So, young man, are you afraid?”
Song Yue stood, offering a proper salute. “Greetings, esteemed elder. I am not afraid.”
The elder laughed heartily. “I heard you dared draw your blade against people from the Kunlun Sect in the secret realm, and even struck at the Zhang family in the mortal world. Excellent, the Bureau loves people like you!”
Song Yue replied modestly, “It was only the courage of a martial man.”
The bearded elder glanced at Song Yue but didn’t contradict him. He’d known the mentor for many years—at one time, the mentor was his superior’s superior’s superior. If not for his injuries, he would have considered the mentor’s appointment as director a waste of talent.
Thus, he’d always respected the mentor and enjoyed a close personal relationship. The mentor hadn’t concealed the truth from him—he’d just relayed it moments ago. While the old wolf was nominally taking the blame, in reality, it was the Bureau itself shouldering the burden.
The old wolf understood this, hence his relaxed demeanor. He’d gained considerable favor from the mentor, and now, as a special advisor to the Bureau, he was positively delighted.
The mentor looked at Song Yue. “The work here isn’t much but does carry some danger. There are special pieces of equipment to ensure your safety. You must learn diligently from Senior Zhao.”
The bearded elder smiled, “Zhao Peng.”
Song Yue clasped his fists in greeting, “Greetings, Senior Zhao!”
The mentor said no more, nodded to Song Yue, and departed with Zhao Peng.
Song Yue’s mind teemed with questions, but he could only watch them leave.
The old wolf stood, closed the door, and said, “Old Lu truly cares for you.”
Song Yue nodded.
The old wolf sighed, “I shouldn’t say much, but you may not realize what Old Lu has done for you.”
Song Yue replied, “I’d like to know.”
The old wolf said, “Your mentor suffered grave injuries on the battlefield. You have a temperament much like his—daring to confront big shots at a young age. It was this very nature that led to subsequent tragedies...”
He paused, looking at Song Yue. “So, you see, temperament can make a person, but sometimes it can harm as well—hardness can snap.”
Song Yue wished to hear more about his mentor’s past, but seeing the old wolf’s hesitance, he knew he wouldn’t say more. He changed the subject, “Are there many demon clans like you living in the city?”
The old wolf said, “Demons have always lived among humans, just disguised as people. Unless a cultivator has strong spiritual power, no one can tell the difference. You couldn’t recognize them before, as a mere martial man.”
Was that a slight against martial artists?
“We all live under the same blue sky. This world isn’t only for humans—demons live here too!” The old wolf mused.
“In ages past, humans and demons coexisted, resisting foreign threats together, enjoying a long period of harmony. Unfortunately, as time passed, human hearts changed, and the demon clan produced many villains.”
“With cultivation resources becoming scarce, conflicts became irreconcilable.”
“After that, humans and demons drifted apart. For ages, most ordinary people didn’t believe demons existed, thinking them mere myth.”
The old wolf chuckled, “Many people are arrogant, assuming humans are the most spiritual beings in existence. While that’s true, it doesn’t mean other creatures lack comparable wisdom and spirituality.”
Song Yue nodded; he agreed with the old wolf. Since childhood, he’d heard countless tales of demons from his mentor.
At that moment, someone knocked on the door. A round-faced young woman, smiling warmly, entered and said to Song Yue, “You must be Song Yue? Come with me—I’ll show you around the department, issue your equipment, and make your ID.”
Song Yue quickly stood and greeted her, “Hello, Sister!”
…
Meanwhile, in the reception area of the Hangzhou branch of the Bureau of Anomalous Affairs, Zhang Jian’s father, the former head of the Zhang family, Zhang Shun, faced the mentor with agitation.
Zhang Shun, his anger barely contained, leaned on his cane and struck the ground, producing a muffled thud. He ignored Zhao Peng, staring at the mentor, “How did my son die?”
The mentor replied, “Killed by the Beihai demon clan.”
Zhang Shun roared, “Nonsense! The Beihai demon clan is—”
The mentor asked, “What are they?”
Zhang Shun was speechless.
Humans and demons could cooperate; otherwise, the old wolf wouldn’t be in the Bureau. But collaborating with the Beihai demon clan meant colluding with outside forces—a reputation the Zhang family couldn’t afford.
The mentor said mildly, “Old Zhang, self-inflicted misfortune cannot be survived. His death at the hands of the Beihai demon clan is the best result.”
Zhang Shun cast a cold glance at the silent Zhao Peng, then looked at the mentor, “Lu Shengfu, do you think the Zhang family lacks the strength to overturn the table?”
The mentor was calm, “Then do you think, if I risked everything to break my seal, I could wipe out your entire Zhang clan?”
Zhang Shun fell silent.
Many didn’t know; they thought of the mentor as a famous scholar. But having lived in the same era, Zhang Shun knew something more.
Lu Shengfu did have that power!
Even the Beihai great demon had suffered at his hands and fled in disgrace.
After a long pause, Zhang Shun lamented, “Must it come to this?”
The mentor said, “I called you beforehand.”
Zhang Shun sighed deeply, saying nothing more. He turned and left, leaning heavily on his cane, his back full of desolation.
He had previously advised his son Zhang Jian not to be too aggressive, not to collaborate easily with the Beihai demon clan, but Zhang Jian was already too deeply involved, unable to turn back.
He had also warned Zhang Jian against targeting his mentor’s disciples—his mentor was not so easily trifled with.
Alas…
Useless descendants are the greatest headache for once-powerful elders. Yet even upright officials cannot resolve family affairs.
Zhang Shun had retired for years, no longer managing family matters. His old companions had already withdrawn from the stage. His grip on the Zhang family had weakened, or such a tragedy wouldn’t have happened.
As for revenge—he wished for it, but dared not.
The blow was already severe: his son was dead, his promising grandson gone as well.
Lu Shengfu was clearly protecting his disciple, even sending him into the Bureau of Anomalous Affairs.
If the Zhang family stubbornly pursued vengeance against Song Yue and his family, they might be utterly destroyed—a calamity from which they could not recover.
The whole family would collapse.
He couldn’t take the risk.
The Zhang family couldn’t afford to lose.
He was no martial artist, not about to lose his head in a fit of rage.
Having held the reins of power in the Zhang family for decades, Zhang Shun chose to swallow his bitterness and endure.
No one enjoys perpetual smooth sailing—when the winds turn, one must lie low and wait for fortune to return.
The mentor stood by the window, watching Zhang Shun, his steps unsteady as he boarded an old luxury car and drove away. Zhao Peng sighed quietly beside him.
No one wanted such things to happen, but some people simply brought ruin upon themselves.
The mentor felt no joy from handling the Zhang family.
He had never taken them seriously—a nouveau riche clan with shallow roots, ignorant of the true rules of the world, dreaming they could muscle their way into the game… a bit too naïve.
His real headache was the Beihai demon clan.
That group, dwelling under the same blue sky yet set apart in distant seas, was notoriously difficult.
In recent years, they’d been less troublesome, but many cultivators had perished at their hands in the past.
That old killer whale was not the strongest among them—not even the only one at the transcendent level.
Within that clan, which monopolized Beihai’s resources, every few years saw the rise of gifted young demons.
The old killer whale had once been one of those prodigies.
The Beihai demon clan was fiercely vengeful.
Once provoked, calamity followed.
In the past, he could ignore such threats—if angered, he could single-handedly storm Beihai and devastate the demon clan.
Not anymore.
Hence, he’d sent Song Yue into the Bureau.
He’d also told Song Yue: you’re grown now, you must learn to consider and solve problems in an adult way…
On one hand, the Bureau of Anomalous Affairs was a formidable pillar—even the strongest demon clans must show respect.
On the other, Song Yue could rapidly mature here.
Battle experience alone was not enough for Song Yue.
He needed to understand the truth of the cultivation world, its harsh realities, and experience many things firsthand. Only then would he become seasoned and resourceful in a short time, able to handle future challenges calmly.
The mentor knew his actions were akin to pushing a fledgling eagle from its nest atop a cliff.
Facing the abyss below, the young eagle had but one option—spread its wings!
“Fly, little one!”
…
Song Yue was led by the cute, round-faced Miss Zhu Jia into a room where his iris was scanned, generating two microchips—one for Song Yue, the other for the Bureau, to be entered into the system.
From then on, Song Yue could use iris recognition to enter any branch of the Bureau of Anomalous Affairs. Of course, some places were off-limits for now; access would increase with his rank.
Zhu Jia then took him to the equipment room.
Here, Song Yue saw a dazzling array of high-tech weapons—energy beam guns, alloy firearms from alien worlds, everything imaginable.
There were also advanced armors.
Zhu Jia pointed to one set, “I think this suits you. Not only does it look good, its function is impressive—it can absorb spiritual energy from the environment as its power source. Once fully charged, it can withstand attacks at the peak Foundation Establishment level for about three minutes.”
Song Yue examined the black-and-red, highly technological armor, liking it very much.
He asked, “Is this a magic artifact enhanced by high technology?”
Zhu Jia pondered, then smiled, “That’s one way to look at it. But let me correct you—many ancient artifacts contained top-tier black technology, with functions we still can’t decipher.”
In the end, Song Yue chose this armor on Zhu Jia’s advice.
Such high-tech products shared one trait: simplicity and practicality.
The armor was easy to wear, made of unknown, very light material, fitting under clothes and almost weightless.
With the armor, Song Yue felt much safer.
He didn’t ask Zhu Jia about the price, assuming it was costly and rare.
He hadn’t seen such gear on secret realm dwellers, nor on Zhang Zixing or Ou Ping, whether from Earth or other worlds.
If they had worn such armor, he could hardly have defeated them.
In life-or-death combat, if the enemy couldn’t be swiftly subdued, danger increased exponentially.
Thus, joining the Bureau of Anomalous Affairs had real benefits.
He asked, “Sister, does every newcomer get such equipment?”
Zhu Jia laughed, “You’re dreaming! Do you know how much this armor costs? Our Hangzhou branch receives only one in three years!”
Song Yue: “…”
Three years… one set?
He understood—this was thanks to his mentor.
He, having come in through the back door, enjoyed privileges many veterans didn’t.
Zhu Jia reminded him, “So, you understand—don’t mention it to others. If anyone asks, just…” She handed him an energy beam gun, “Say you received this.”
Song Yue looked at Zhu Jia, feeling she was very kind.
“Don’t look at me like that—it’s the boss’s orders. I’m just carrying them out, no need to thank me.”
“No, I have to thank you, Sister—otherwise, I wouldn’t understand these things!” Song Yue said sincerely.
Zhu Jia smiled even sweeter, finding this handsome young man very considerate. Unlike others in the branch who looked down on “back door” recruits, she favored good-looking boys.
Just then, an alarm sounded from some corner. Zhu Jia said, “There’s a mission—get ready, I’ll take you out on your first task!”
“Aren’t you in charge of the storeroom?”
Song Yue hurried after Zhu Jia, curious.
“Who said I manage the storeroom? I was just assigned to help you get your gear.” Zhu Jia spoke quickly, pressing a watch-like device on her wrist, which projected an encrypted, three-dimensional message.
Song Yue admired it; Zhu Jia glanced at him, “I’ll take you to get one after we return.”
“Thank you, Sister!” Song Yue replied sweetly, then asked, “By the way, what about the old man with me…”
“You mean the limping—cough, you mean Mr. Wolf? He’s a special advisor; small missions don’t require him.” Zhu Jia almost slipped, then explained, “He’s had a record here for a while.”
“Oh.” Song Yue thought, so the old wolf wasn’t exactly a saint—this must be his recruitment.
Outside, Song Yue saw no others. Following Zhu Jia, they arrived at a striking, punk-styled vintage motorcycle. Zhu Jia mounted it.
Song Yue was a bit stunned.
Cute young women these days liked such wild rides?
“What are you waiting for? Get on!” Zhu Jia donned her helmet, tossing one to Song Yue.
Song Yue got on, feeling awkward, gripping the rear.
“Hug my waist, or you’ll fall!” Zhu Jia said, starting the bike.
The engine growled, and they shot off.
Song Yue, jolted, quickly wrapped his arms around Zhu Jia’s waist, thinking, This girl is sly—taking advantage of me!
It was hard to imagine a soft, cute girl like Zhu Jia had such skill, weaving through traffic at high speed.
The wind roared, and the bike sped toward the outskirts.
Song Yue wanted to ask where they were going, and whether they could avoid racing—it was dangerous! He kept quiet; he didn’t want Zhu Jia distracted. If anything happened, it would be a loss.
Flesh wrapped in iron—the grandmaster couldn’t handle it.
He resolved to avoid missions with her in the future; a car would be safer.
…
The motorcycle sped like the wind, Zhu Jia looking especially dashing, though the large man riding behind her looked odd.
Luckily, they were fast enough that Song Yue didn’t see passersby’s strange looks.
Soon, they left Hangzhou and hit the highway.
Just as Song Yue expected Zhu Jia to accelerate further, her muffled voice came through the helmet, “Careful, we’re about to fly!”
Song Yue: !!!
Suddenly, the bike jerked, then was lifted by a mysterious force, soaring into the sky!
No wings—just airborne!
Song Yue was dumbfounded.
He knew there were many alien high-tech vehicles; rarely seen in old cities, but common in Earth and lunar new cities.
The problem was, those flying cars looked like sports cars, equipped with anti-gravity devices. Was this punk-styled vintage bike also an alien tech marvel?
And… where were they going?
Aren’t we in the Hangzhou branch? Why fly?
In a blink, the bike flew dozens of miles, heading for a deep mountain forest.
Zhu Jia controlled the descent, then, from several dozen meters up, told Song Yue, “Hold tight!”
She leaped, light as a feather, toward a direction below.
Before Song Yue could react, Zhu Jia was surrounded by blazing fire, transforming into a rain of flames, crashing down.
As Song Yue landed and hurried over, the battle was already over.
A huge rat, over two meters long and as thick as an ox, lay scorched and nearly dead.
The air reeked of roasted meat.
“What a big rat!” Song Yue was shocked. “It’s become a spirit, hasn’t it? Is it tasty?”
The first words were normal, but the last betrayed his nature.
Still in her helmet, Zhu Jia looked at Song Yue oddly, but he couldn’t see her expression.
The dying rat opened its eyes and cursed, “Where’d you come from, brat? Eat, eat, eat—eat your mother’s leg!”
“You dare swear?” Zhu Jia raised her hand, launching more fireballs.
Though massive, the rat was still a rat, squeaking pitifully.
It pleaded, “Good sister, no more—if you burn me again, I’ll die! I know I was wrong—I’ll never dare again!”
Song Yue had never been so close to a demon clan member, except for the killer whale and the old wolf. Wang Jie didn’t count; he still saw her as a kindly relative.
So he watched the rat curiously, wondering what it had done.
Zhu Jia sneered, “No more? Why didn’t you say that when you were eating people?”
The rat protested, “They were all villains! Sister, check their identities—if I’m lying, you can kill me and I won’t complain!”
Zhu Jia said, “You think I’d spare your life otherwise? Go explain yourself to the Tribunal!”
She pulled out a small cage, a foot square, and tossed it before the rat, “Get in.”
Song Yue hadn’t seen her carrying a cage; she must have a storage artifact. He marveled—this Bureau was well-funded!
His mentor was truly resourceful—this place suited him.
The rat, miserable, shrank and crawled in.
Zhu Jia put the cage away.
Song Yue asked, “Done?”
Zhu Jia nodded, “Done.”
That’s it?
Song Yue was baffled—so simple, she could have managed alone.
Zhu Jia removed her helmet, and Song Yue saw her hair was soaked, strands clinging to her pale cheeks.
She gathered her hair, looked at Song Yue, and said, “I just wanted you to see our daily work. Besides, it’s boring alone!”
Song Yue was speechless—fine, she was the veteran, she decided.
On the way back, the bike flew slower; Zhu Jia chatted leisurely.
“Many demon clans live among us, disguised as humans, keeping a low profile—like Mr. Wolf, just wanting to live quietly.”
“But some are less discreet, like this big rat, who’s done such things many times. He’s cunning, always claiming to punish evil…”
Song Yue, now somewhat familiar with demon clans, listened with amusement.
Back at the Hangzhou branch, Zhu Jia reported in, then told Song Yue he could leave for the day—just return by noon tomorrow.
Song Yue felt it wasn’t so much a job as a retirement home.
If he hadn’t just caught a giant demon rat, it would have felt even more so.
“By the way, tomorrow night, don’t make plans. The department will hold a small welcome dinner for you and Mr. Wolf.”
Returning to his and the old wolf’s office, Song Yue found the old wolf gone—so sly, already slacking off on his first day as special advisor.
Song Yue muttered inwardly, then left. As he walked out, he encountered a young man entering.
The man was dressed in punk style, earrings dangling, hair dyed in a rainbow explosion, creating a striking impression.
He stared at Song Yue, stopped, and asked coolly, “You’re the new guy who got in through the back door?”
Song Yue replied politely, “Hello, Senior. You’re mistaken—I got in on merit. Please take care of me.”
Having a mentor like his was merit enough.
Song Yue was confident.
The punk man paused, then grinned, “Good—I like confident people!”
Just then, Zhu Jia’s round face peeked from a room, glaring at the punk man, “Lu Xiaohong, don’t bully the newbie!”
“I’m not!” the punk man protested dramatically. “We’re just friendly exchanges!”
Lu Xiaohong? A woman?
Song Yue glanced over.
The punk man reacted instantly, “Zhu Jia, if you keep calling me that nickname, I’ll turn on you!”
He earnestly explained to Song Yue, “My name is Lu Xiaohong! The Lu with two mouths, the Xiao of Buddha’s dawn, the Hong of grandness! Not the little ‘xiao’ or the red ‘hong’!”
Song Yue nodded, “Alright, Brother Lu Xiaohong. See you tomorrow!”
He quickly passed the rainbow, disappearing down the hall.
“Is he mocking me?” Lu Xiaohong looked at Zhu Jia, who was laughing hard. “A mere back-door newbie dares mock me?”
Zhu Jia chuckled, “He’s a newbie, and young too, but don’t underestimate him.”
“Because he’s handsome, right?” Lu Xiaohong looked knowing.
Zhu Jia nodded, “Yes, and he’s already stepped into the third realm as a martial grandmaster. In a real fight, you might not match him.”
“You’re slighting a future great cultivator?” Lu Xiaohong protested.
“You, as a great cultivator, would be flattened by Song Yue in one slap,” Zhu Jia teased, raising her brow. “If you don’t believe it, try the virtual space—my money’s on Song Yue!”
“Let’s fight! I’m not afraid of a kid—a third-realm martial grandmaster… grandmasters are kids to me!” Lu Xiaohong scoffed, humming as he returned to his office.
Outside, Song Yue rented a shared bike, leisurely riding home. As he pedaled, he recalled there was no one waiting with dinner at home, feeling a pang of sadness.
Without Wang Jie, the house would be especially lonely. He longed to know more about her, but those who knew withheld the truth.
Was it just a matter of lacking strength?
Song Yue silently vowed to become stronger as quickly as possible.
Just then, a phone call came—it was Brother Qian.
“Where are you? Can you come over?”
“Of course! No problem!”
Song Yue, not wanting to go home, sped toward the cultivation academy.
Seeing Brother Qian, Song Yue was startled—after only a few days, Brother Qian seemed to possess a new, striking aura.
More beautiful, more fierce!
Could it be…
Song Yue was shocked. Had she already reached Foundation Establishment?
He joked, “May I ask, beautiful lady, when did you descend to the mortal world?”
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A bit late, but this was a hefty chapter…