Chapter 95: The Demon Hunter

What is this?

Shen Yi unconsciously loosened his sword scabbard; he had already guessed something.

As expected, Bai Qian’s tone took on a teasing edge:

“A demon hunter’s badge.”

“Demon hunter…” Shen Yi had heard this title more than once, even seen a few in person on Qingfeng Mountain.

“They track demons across a thousand li, operate outside the Demon Suppression Bureau, take orders but not edicts—that’s a demon hunter.”

Jiang Chengyun stepped slowly into the room, expressionless, and casually tucked the silver bell into his sash.

That’s what “take orders but not edicts” means.

When the Demon Suppression Bureau issues a command, they may act, but no one may interfere with their methods—they enjoy maximum autonomy, judged solely by results, not process.

This immunity from interference also includes the Regional Commander.

And it’s “may act”—if they deem something more urgent, or simply feel lazy, they can ignore it entirely.

Not only externally, but internally too, ranks are divided by bronze, silver, and gold bells; even a gold-bell demon hunter cannot command a bronze-bell one.

Such lax rules signify the imperial court’s unconditional trust in them.

To join the demon hunters, a Deputy Commander is merely the bare minimum threshold—you must also pass tests of intellect, character, and strength.

“What’s the benefit?” Shen Yi withdrew his gaze.

Hearing this, Jiang Chengyun clenched his teeth slightly; Bai Qian laughed, pressing her hand to her belly and sinking back into her chair: “Demon hunters report directly to the imperial court. Whatever you want—if the Great Qian Dynasty has it, we have it… and we don’t have half the stupid rules of the Demon Suppression Bureau.”

“We only care about one thing.”

Bai Qian held up two fingers: “How many demon traces you collect, or how many demon heads you cut off.”

Jiang Chengyun glanced helplessly at his grandmother’s fingers and added gravely: “You’ll also gain access to Qingzhou’s largest intelligence network—though you yourself become one of its nodes.”

Bai Qian shook the bell again: “With this, you can leave messages anywhere. Even your personal deputy commanders and above have similar methods; any other bell-holder who comes near can receive them. Within a hundred li, you can exchange intelligence through it… though if you want to use it to flirt with girls, that’s fine too.”

“Besides, you can attach things to it temporarily as a defensive tool.”

Saying this, Bai Qian pushed herself up on the table and slowly slid the silver bell toward him: “Inside are methods for suppressing aura, transforming form, sensing and gathering spiritual energy—and a little gift I prepared especially for you. Old General Chen said you seem to like this sort of thing. Big brother, still thinking about it?”

Her delicate face held a smile, but it looked oddly strange; Jiang Chengyun likewise lowered his eyelids and stared over.

Everything they’d just said were benefits.

But anyone not an idiot knew that accepting this meant facing what kind of risks.

A silver-bell demon hunter’s status would never be lower than a personal deputy commander, yet their circumstances were two opposite extremes.

If those in the Demon Suppression Bureau treaded step by step through mountains of blades and seas of fire, demon hunters were a band of reckless fools dancing barefoot on knife tips.

They had the arrogance to be reckless, but how often does one walk by the river without getting one’s shoes wet?

In other words, their shoes had never been truly dry.

“I don’t need it.”

Under their gazes, Shen Yi casually tucked the bell away, his eyes calm, as if it were truly just an ordinary bell.

“...”

Seeing this, Bai Qian and Jiang Chengyun exchanged glances.

So casually. So indifferent.

If this young man in the black robe wasn’t a fool who couldn’t understand words, then only one thing could be true.

His arrogance even surpassed Bai Qian’s expectations!

“Impressed? How does he compare to you back then?”

Bai Qian slapped Jiang Chengyun’s arm from behind.

“Grandma—!”

Before Jiang Chengyun could finish, her small hand twisted instantly onto his arm.

He looked down at the side and fell silent.

True enough—back then, he himself had been excited and thrilled, summoning immense courage before finally accepting that bell.

Nothing like the calmness of the man before him.

But the difference was, before becoming a demon hunter, he had endured over a decade of life-or-death battles; even with a gold-bell demon hunter grandmother, she had never lifted a finger to help him.

Given her nature, even if she heard of her grandchild’s death, she’d only kick and laugh, mocking his uselessness, perhaps hiding a sliver of pity for him in the tears of her laughter.

Yet Shen Yi had entered the Demon Suppression Bureau less than a month ago, already received a letter from Lin Baiwei, and now enjoyed Chen Qiankun’s favor.

Hard to say whether he was just a calf unaware of the tiger’s might.

“Big brother, just channel your aura into it. When he finishes what he’s doing, I’ll have him show you the procedures.”

“Learn the contents inside as quickly as possible—let a few idiotic dragonspawn with waterlogged brains be intimidated. It’s embarrassing not to beat the oldest one, but at least run faster, slash his forehead, slap his face, chase him three thousand li like a dog, then circle back and kill his dragon whelps. It’s thrilling—you should try it sometime.”

Bai Qian jumped off the chair, waved her hand, and bounced out of the room.

Jiang Chengyun cast one final glance at Shen Yi, then walked out slowly.

Only after they’d walked some distance did he voice his discontent: “Grandma, giving him the silver bell so directly—isn’t that unfair to us?”

“Here.”

Bai Qian lifted her wrist and shook the delicate golden bell: “Trade with you.”

Watching the swaying bell,

Jiang Chengyun’s drooping eyes burned with heat—in all Qingzhou, only three such golden bells existed, each representing a being comparable to a Demon Suppression Grand General.

In other words, twelve Demon Suppression Grand Generals plus three gold-bell demon hunters—fifteen Golden Core cultivators altogether—were Qingzhou’s entire elite, excluding the Regional Commander.

But soon, Jiang Chengyun masked that heat: “Wait until you’re dead, and I’ve fully perfected my Golden Core and officially entered the Golden Core realm—then we’ll talk.”

“Then that’s settled.”

Bai Qian rolled her eyes: “A stupid bell? What use is it? Can’t I offer the same position Chen Qiankun can? What matters is how much demonic aura and heart-blood he gathers—how many medicinal treasures or martial arts he can trade for.”

“Does he have that ability?” Jiang Chengyun asked, puzzled.

Bai Qian stopped, looking at him like he was an idiot: “What, you actually expect a Jade Fluid cultivator to accomplish much? I’m just pumping him up. Tracking and slaying demons is your job—his job is to grow stronger.”

The two walked away again.

The courtyard, silent room.

Shen Yi sat back on the bed’s edge, took out the silver bell, his eyes filled with confusion.

What great fortune had he stumbled upon lately?

He’d been quietly sitting in his room, then two people appeared out of nowhere—delivering intelligence, handing over magic treasures, and giving him a whole set of defensive techniques.

That girl’s mischievous grin had almost made Shen Yi nervous.

And the cost? Apparently… none?

Hunting demons alone was already what he planned to do.

“Strange indeed.”

Shen Yi shook his head.

He tried channeling his aura into it.

Immediately, as if entering an inner vision, several objects appeared before his eyes.

Several scrolls recording various techniques.

And the little gift Bai Qian had mentioned.

It was a still, quietly lying Golden Core dragon core.

(End of chapter)