Chapter Sixty-One: Catching Fish

Especially when it came to contacting Richard, the high-ranking organizer in charge of the matter had completely lost his composure, utterly unraveling! For so many years, their organization had always operated in the shadows—quietly conducting affairs that skirted the line between light and darkness, doing both good deeds and dirty work alike.

As long as the money was right, they dared to accept any commission, no matter how dangerous or unscrupulous. With the covert support of certain powerful figures in the Western bloc—people like Richard—the organization had always prospered, gradually becoming the most formidable underground force in all of the West.

Of course, over the years, they had suffered minor losses and setbacks, but never anything approaching this magnitude! In just two days, nearly twenty people had already died!

The first dozen or so casualties, while painful, were all elite members of the group—but such talent was never in short supply. Their deaths were regrettable, but hardly crippling.

However, the four great Archmages who had just been lost were on an entirely different level. By their abilities, they had already achieved the Eastern equivalent of “Foundation Establishment”—in other words, they were like living immortals on earth. These were the true pillars of the organization.

Yet all four of these formidable figures had vanished without a trace!

These four were fiercely loyal to the organization, with enough compromising information held by the leadership to eliminate any possibility of betrayal—not that it would have been necessary. Thus, once contact was lost, it was almost certain they'd met a dire fate.

The crucial point was that, to this moment, they still had no idea who was responsible!

That Song Yue... it was all but impossible. Ever since he’d escaped into the mountains, he had never been seen again. If he really were the perpetrator, there ought to have been some sign of a struggle. Besides, if Song Yue possessed such overwhelming power, why would he have needed to flee? He could have simply waited in the small town, killing whoever came after him!

Previously, the organization’s upper echelon had theorized that an Eastern grandmaster might have intervened, but they quickly dismissed that notion. Judging by the situation, it seemed far more likely the assailant was a Westerner—someone intimately familiar with the local terrain. Otherwise, it would have been impossible to eliminate four Foundation-level Archmages so thoroughly, leaving not a single clue. Such a feat required not only immense power, but an intimate knowledge of every detail here.

But even after compiling a lengthy list of possible suspects, they came up empty-handed. Every individual on their list had unshakable alibis.

“Who on earth is killing our people? Whoever it is, they'd better hope I never find out. If I do, I’ll exact the most ruthless revenge imaginable!” The middle-aged man responsible for liaising with Richard, a senior figure in the underground organization, roared in frustration in his office.

Two elderly men sat on the couch—both retired veterans of the organization, summoned back for their wisdom in this moment of crisis.

“We are indeed facing a grave challenge now, and I require your guidance,” the high-ranking officer said humbly, treating the two aged men with all the respect of a junior.

“To silently assassinate our core members, the culprit must be at least a Permeation-level adept. Furthermore, the power they wield is nothing short of tyrannical,” the golden-haired elder remarked.

“Not only tyrannical—I'd wager it’s fire-based magic,” the black-haired elder mused. “Investigate all the great Archmages in the West renowned for fire magic, and focus especially on those with close ties to Eastern practitioners.”

The leader immediately relayed the order. Yet he remained dejected, turning to the two elders. “I’m sorry. I’ve made a mess of things.”

The golden-haired elder smiled slightly. “This is nothing. In the early days of our organization, we weathered several existential crises, but we survived them all. Still, you did break a taboo this time.”

With that, he produced a cigar. The middle-aged man hurried over, clipped the end, and lit it for him.

The elder took a deep drag, then exhaled. “I recall an unwritten rule in the organization: never lightly provoke the Easterners. It seems that, after all these years of smooth sailing, you’ve forgotten.”

The middle-aged man rubbed his face, weary. “I haven’t forgotten—but it was Richard who commissioned the job, and his offer was too tempting.”

“How much did he offer?” the elder pressed.

The man raised a single finger, but the golden-haired elder interrupted, “Ten million... That’s quite a sum.”

“One hundred million,” the man corrected.

The golden-haired elder was stunned. The black-haired elder’s eyes widened as well, muttering, “Is inflation really that bad?”

“A hundred million?” The golden-haired elder inhaled sharply. “He’d pay that much just to capture a young man?”

“I just spoke with him on the phone,” the middle-aged man said. “I told him about our heavy losses and demanded more money. He agreed.”

The black-haired elder crossed his legs, reclining on the sofa with a sigh. “Makes me wish I were twenty years younger, so I could take on this job myself!”

The golden-haired elder shot him a look. “Let it go, old friend. Enough people have died already.”

“It’s true—the money won’t come easily,” the black-haired elder admitted.

“If you two are willing to assist, I’ll split fifty million between you,” the middle-aged man offered.

The golden-haired elder hesitated. He had been retired for years, and now lived only to enjoy life. Cultivation was arduous; working for the organization was even more stressful, always fearing for his life. Retirement suited him just fine—offering advice as a consultant was one thing, but personally getting involved was another matter.

His black-haired companion, however, was visibly tempted. Unlike his well-off peer, he'd once been wealthy but was too adept at squandering his fortune. Though not destitute, his life had become increasingly strained, especially as his family grew and required more money. His wife often complained she couldn’t even indulge in her favorite dresses.

If he could secure twenty-five million, his financial worries would be solved at a stroke.

“George, I think it’s time we stretched our legs,” the black-haired elder said with a relaxed smile. “Let’s see which mischievous child has been so bold as to target our people. They may have forgotten how fearsome the Black-Gold Duo once were.”

George, the golden-haired elder, still hesitated; he didn't want to wade into these troubled waters. Sensing an opportunity, the middle-aged man pressed further, “If you agree, I’ll wire the money to your private accounts at once—just like your monthly consulting fees.”

“Come on, George, we’re not old yet!” Louis, the black-haired elder, urged his old comrade.

“Well, all right,” George finally relented, “but even if we take action, there’s no guarantee of success.”

A Permeation-level cultivator was no small adversary; even the two of them together might not prevail.

Still, driving the culprit away and tracking down that little mole hiding in the shadows shouldn’t be too difficult. After all, this was their specialty!

...

At that moment, Catherine had already returned home. She felt she had cleared away most of the obstacles. After suffering such tremendous losses with no clue as to the culprit, the opposition was surely panicking and would likely withdraw.

She knew the organization’s reputation in the Western underworld—they had produced many brilliant Archmages and Paladins. Their name wasn’t all bad; they had done both good and evil over the years. All in all, they specialized in handling dirty work for the powerful.

She had no desire to make outright enemies of such people. The four Foundation-level Archmages who died later had simply crossed her path at the wrong time. They noticed something odd about her avian form and tried to capture her.

Left with no choice, Catherine resorted to forbidden magic, burning the four to ashes. But using her signature technique drained her greatly, and she flew home utterly exhausted.

She hurriedly made arrangements with Xueya and then shut herself away to recover.

This quiet, remote town seemed untouched by any turmoil. No one would ever guess that the beautiful lady tending her flowers and plants was, in fact, a true great demon.

Xueya was perplexed. Was it really so exhausting just to visit a lover? Weren’t such things supposed to be wonderful? Full of questions, she returned to her room, opened her computer, and searched: “Is it normal to feel tired after...?”

...

When professionals act, the difference is clear. George and Louis, the Black-Gold Duo, appeared to be nothing more than two old men foraging for mushrooms in the nearby mountains. After a single circuit around the hills encircling the small town, they had already identified several suspicious sites.

“This must be where the battle took place. It ended in a flash—our people had no time to react before they were incinerated.”

“The killer is a fire-wielding Archmage—or perhaps an Eastern Permeation-level cultivator specializing in fire arts. Their rank is at least Permeation-level.”

They soon found the site where the four Foundation cultivators perished, uncovering further clues. However, these yielded little help in identifying the culprit—only that the four had likely confronted their attacker face-to-face and attempted to fight back.

The fact that they could deduce even this much was impressive. All that remained were a few traces and some thoroughly cremated bone ash.

“Perhaps they tried to counterattack, but failed,” George sighed. “Old friend, I know you need the money, but this case is more complicated than we thought. That young Easterner may have a background we can’t imagine.”

Louis rubbed his temples. Even among fire-wielding Archmages or Eastern Permeation-level cultivators, few could so cleanly annihilate four Foundation adepts.

Especially four at once.

This meant their foe was at least Permeation-level—perhaps higher—possessing a tremendously powerful forbidden art.

“Still, we’ve already accepted the job, haven’t we?” Louis said.

George nodded silently, then a sly, slightly smug smile crept across his face. “But I never made any promises to Hans, did I?”

The two of them burst into laughter.

“That person has likely left already. After such heavy losses, any leader from our era would have withdrawn,” George said.

“I heard the client departed first—perhaps he caught wind of something and didn’t want to remain in danger,” Louis speculated.

Both men understood such matters well. Their organization was complex, not a pure assassin's guild, and rarely pursued vendettas to the bitter end.

Whoever struck at them must have known their ways. Despite killing so many, it was more of a warning. George and Louis, both old hands, understood these unspoken rules perfectly. Otherwise, the assailant would not have simply left, but might have stormed their headquarters instead!

“So, our only remaining task is to find that adorable little mole?” Louis asked George.

“Even if we find him, don’t harm him—just bring him back to the organization. That will more than fulfill our obligations,” George replied.

...

Song Yue had been cultivating for seven days straight!

He had finally finished absorbing the giant root vegetable. The runes inscribed on his internal organs had grown much clearer, though most were still incomplete.

He tried to activate them, but nothing happened—it seemed he lacked the requisite level. However, he did discover the effect of the runes on his skin: they greatly enhanced his defenses!

It was like a higher-level Iron Shirt or perhaps the preliminary stage of some kind of golden body technique.

Along with his protective gear, Song Yue now felt much more confident in his resilience.

After so many days in hiding, those who cared for him were probably worried sick—it was time to leave this secret realm and find his way home.

The old peony spirit kept watch above, observing Song Yue’s transformations closely.

“You possess the talent of a top-tier physical cultivator from ancient times.”

“Was that era truly so glorious?” Song Yue was full of curiosity and yearning for the lost civilization of cultivation.

“It was dazzling—far beyond what the present can offer. I hear that nowadays, anyone who achieves Foundation Establishment is called an Earthly Immortal?” the peony asked.

Song Yue nodded.

“In those radiant days, Foundation Establishment was only the beginning. I saw children as young as seven or eight already at that stage.”

Song Yue could only envy them.

“Nothing to envy. In this era, your gifts are even more advantageous,” the old peony assured him.

Once everything was tidied up, Song Yue gathered the red bird, who had been frolicking about, and sent the peony into the Jade Void Celestial Stele’s internal space, preparing to depart.

The old peony noticed a blue demon rose tree inside and grumbled, “Why did you bring in such rubbish?”

“Rubbish?” Song Yue’s mouth twitched. “The blue demon rose fruit boosts mental power—it’s valuable!”

“Too slow. Next time, I’ll take you to find real vermillion fruit, which will vastly enhance your mind!” With that, the peony, waving its branches, ambled into the stele’s space. It could survive anywhere, and this short stay posed no issue. If not for the risk of stirring up trouble, it would have returned to the medicine garden it had inhabited for so many years, to bid farewell to all the slumbering great herbs.

Song Yue, ever cautious, did not exit where he’d entered, but traveled far through the secret realm, avoiding possible inhabitants, and found a remote spot before initiating the realm’s resonance.

With a single step, he emerged.

Stars twinkled overhead and the night breeze was cool. In the distance, the lights of the small city glimmered. He’d materialized—in the middle of a river.

And was promptly swept away.

Seriously, what are the odds? Now, soaked to the bone, Song Yue drifted downstream, speechless.

The red bird clung to his hair, shaking out its feathers in annoyance. “Why are you so unlucky? You picked such a lousy place—I almost drowned!”

Song Yue hadn’t expected to end up in a river either. At first, he cursed his misfortune, but on second thought, this wasn’t so bad. He could simply float downriver and out of the city’s area.

But as he drifted along, something felt off.

This river... seemed to flow into the city.

He’d acted too hastily.

Just then, the river bent, and as Song Yue prepared to climb ashore, he spotted through the trees, not far ahead, two old men—one golden-haired, one black-haired—sitting by the river, fishing.

Fishing at night, in such a place? Surely, they were waiting for him.

Damn it, could his luck get any worse?

Song Yue, thinking fast, grabbed the red bird and ducked underwater.

The bird had also noticed the pair, but before it could react, Song Yue dragged it under. It nearly panicked—beings of the sky hated the water. Drowning wasn’t likely, but the water would ruin its beautiful feathers, and who knew what horrors lurked below...

The river was twenty to thirty meters wide and at least six or seven meters deep. Flowing down from the mountains, the water was cold and clear; by day, one could see the fish swimming at the bottom.

Fortunately, it was night. George and Louis, fishing on the bank, never imagined their quarry was passing right under their noses, swiftly swept downstream.

Only when Song Yue had floated a long way did he dare surface, finally able to breathe easier.

The red bird grumbled softly, “If I’d known, I’d have gone into the stele’s space with the peony. You nearly drowned me!”

“Shh, don’t make a sound. We’ll be discovered,” Song Yue warned.

“So where are we going now?” the bird asked.

Looking at the river’s course, Song Yue replied, “Why don’t you hide in the stele’s space? I’m planning to swim downstream and escape this way.”

Under cover of darkness, no route could be safer.

The red bird agreed immediately, vanishing into the Jade Void Celestial Stele’s space.

Song Yue took a deep breath and dove again. As a martial artist, his breath-holding ability was formidable—he could swim a long distance in a single breath. After training in the Taiyi Body-Refining Sutra, he could even remain underwater for days.

He hadn’t considered escaping this way before, but now it seemed like a pretty good idea.

...

Back on the riverbank, George frowned slightly and said to Louis, “Did you sense something odd just now?”

Louis nodded. “It felt like a big fish swam right under our noses.”

George smacked his lips. “No wonder there’s been no sign for so many days. I’m starting to admire this youngster. If not for this mission, I’d want to recruit him for our organization—he could become our ace!”

Louis chuckled. “Enough, old friend. Let’s get back to fishing!”