Chapter 102: Out of the City to Capture the Demon

“Exactly the same as the one on Yuan Zhi back then.”

Zhang the Butcher weakly retracted his hands, his voice hoarse; he had originally thought Master Benxin had been misled by Yuan Gang and was suppressing him, withholding the Jade Liquid realm body-refining martial art.

Now it seemed clear that his impulsive, reckless nature had made the sect’s direct disciples believe he was unworthy to share the “secret techniques,” and despite decent talent, he had been discarded without hesitation.

The other captains and deputy commanders listened, confused, not understanding what he meant.

Shen Yi stared at the monk beneath his feet, then slowly withdrew his gaze: “Take all outer-disciples for questioning; all direct disciples are to be escorted back to the Demon Suppression Office.”

One word: “take.” One word: “escort.”

This instantly split the expressions of the disciples inside the pagoda and those below the mountain gate into two extremes.

To be taken for questioning: if innocent, they’d be released after interrogation.

But to be escorted back to the Demon Suppression Office meant something entirely different—it was the treatment reserved for demons; once evidence was confirmed, it meant decapitation.

“Your Excellency Shen is wise!”

The outer-disciple martial artists lay sprawled on the ground, gasping for breath; anyone who’d ever wandered the martial world had blood on their hands, but compared to colluding with demons, those were minor sins—worst case, they’d be jailed for a while, but their lives would be spared.

Inside the pagoda, many direct disciples gripped their weapons tightly, their faces faintly tense with unease.

Under the deputy commanders’ lead, the Golden Eagle captains surged upward, their heavy Demon Suppression chains coiling like dragons through the sea, clinking and clanking.

“Where is your abbot?”

Shen Yi sheathed his ceremonial blade.

“...”

Upon hearing Zhang the Butcher utter the name “Yuan Zhi.”

Master Benxin’s heart sank to the bottom of his chest; all hope vanished.

He clenched his teeth, staring fixedly at the young man’s profile—his expression nearly identical to Yuan Gang’s: equally venomous, equally fearful.

Their brief clash had already shown him the vast gulf between them; moreover, with so many Demon Suppression captains present, escape today was impossible.

The fact that he sheathed his blade didn’t mean he’d spare him.

It meant there was no point wasting effort on a dead man.

Attacking a Demon Suppression deputy captain within Qingzhou City made whatever martial art he practiced irrelevant.

As if confirming his thoughts, someone soon approached with iron chains designed to suppress the dantian and began binding him.

The old monk breathed heavily, turning his gaze to the beautiful pagoda, fixing it on the panicked direct disciples—once escorted to the Demon Suppression Office, he knew full well what methods they used against demons.

If even one of them slipped up, heads would fall in unison.

He made his decision quickly, then shouted loudly:

“Your Excellency Shen seeks personal revenge! This old monk’s worthless life is yours for the taking!”

“But to slander the Golden Vajra Sect’s reputation? Never!”

He fell silent, then twisted his face into a snarl, teeth grinding: “You want to know where the abbot is? Dream on!”

Before his words ended, his bound arms snapped upward—two iron palms struck his own jaw with unhesitating force.

Body-refining martial artists were exceedingly rare; those with talent to reach the Jade Liquid realm almost never pursued this path.

Even with his dantian firmly suppressed by the chains, the old monk still retained some strength.

The Golden Eagle captain holding the chains staggered backward, about to shout a rebuke—then his pupils shrank in shock.

A sharp “crack” rang out!

The old monk had literally shattered his own neck; his round head hung upside down at an absurd angle.

“Master!”

At this sight, the disciples inside the pagoda shuddered violently, frozen in place.

After a moment, they snapped back to their senses, exchanged glances, and in stunned realization, immediately dropped their weapons.

Suppressing their terror with force, sweat drenching their brows, they clenched their lips shut.

Master Benxin was sacrificing his life to warn them—

Don’t be fooled by this Shen dog!

Is failing to cultivate the Bodhi Vajra Body a crime punishable by death?!

The Golden Vajra Sect switching to other methods isn’t unusual; while not public knowledge, the Demon Suppression Office certainly knew.

Master Benxin and his disciples offended this man, and just now struck a Demon Suppression officer—they’re doomed tonight. But why should we fear? If Shen had proof, why wait so long to act?

“This...”

Hong Lei hurried to Shen Yi’s side, his face grim: “I’ll order an investigation immediately.”

At this point, the Golden Vajra Sect’s corruption was undeniable.

As the captains surged out, Qingzhou City had already gone on alert—not even a fly could escape.

Tracking down an old bald monk isn’t hard—but once he leaves the city...

Even the most cautious actions risk leaks... Master Benxin chose suicide to buy this tiny window—to silence his disciples. If the abbot learns in time and destroys the evidence, the Golden Vajra Sect may suffer heavy losses, but still has a chance to rise again.

And worse—he might even have set a trap for Shen Yi: “favoritism and abuse of power.”

“...”

Shen Yi looked down at Master Benxin’s corpse, slightly raising an eyebrow—he’d merely asked casually, yet the reaction was extreme.

He then pulled a silver bell from his waist, infused it with Qi: “I’d appreciate your help—I seek information on the Golden Vajra Sect’s abbot.”

After several breaths, several pieces of information traveled along the Qi into Shen Yi’s ears.

“No problem—he’s at Pingkang Mountain. I saw him half a month ago.”

“The Golden Vajra Sect has a habit of sending virtuous lay followers to Mount Wang for Qi absorption; they change locations periodically.”

“Hahaha... Truly fitting for a fake bald monk—stealing Daoist breathing techniques too? I’ve heard of this—many devotees stay there for years, sending letters home every few months to invite relatives to sit and cultivate together; after occasional visits, they return to the mountain, still chanting Buddha’s name.”

Qingzhou was one of the twelve prefectural capitals, and tonight’s commotion had drawn many.

A fair number of demon hunters gathered to watch, and quickly gave their answers.

Shen Yi tucked away the silver bell, then noticed Hong Lei’s strange expression—he stared at him in shock: “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing.”

Hong Lei waved his hand, swallowed hard.

He’d served as deputy commander for years and dealt with demon hunters before—but this was the first time he’d seen a silver bell.

Thinking of those madmen, Hong Lei shook his head—better not to see such things.

The Jade Liquid realm’s peak was merely the minimum standard to hold a silver bell; anyone who’d held one and survived was rumored to be a Golden Core cultivator.

Their short lives weren’t due to demon hunters’ strict rules.

The real reason was that those who rose above ordinary demon hunters were clearly insane—wandering alone, stumbling into territories of higher-level demons, refusing to flee, insisting on stealing a wisp of their Qi just to exchange it for a reward.

No wonder Your Excellency Shen doesn’t get along with General Chen—it’s because of this.

Hong Lei bent awkwardly to lift Master Benxin’s corpse, clicking his tongue: “Why the rush...”

Soon, all the Golden Vajra Sect’s direct disciples were bound with Demon Suppression chains.

Following Master Benxin’s example, the captains wrapped the chains extra times and pulled out long-unused special silver hooks, piercing their scapulae.

“Your Excellency, if we leave the city, a deputy commander may lead at most one hundred and twenty men. Three deputies... you have no personal retinue—we can temporarily lend you men, but I fear they won’t be enough.”

Hong Lei, carrying Master Benxin’s corpse, reminded Shen Yi.

Though this matter seemed one step from resolution, if the old bald monk’s cultivation had truly advanced as rumored, that final step would be perilous.

Back on Qingfeng Mountain, General Chen Qiankun was the commander; all risks fell to him—to slay the Sect Master, destroy the ancestral sword, and ultimately hunt down and kill the dragon. But Shen Yi had beaten him to it.

Now Shen Yi personally leads the captains to exterminate demons—clearly without reporting to General Chen. With full authority comes full responsibility.

If he fails, he won’t just lose his life—he’ll drag the entire Qingzhou government office’s honor down with him.

(End of Chapter)