Li Kun’s blade trembled as the Wolf Spider skittered across the auction hall floor, its armored carapace gleaming under the restored lights. The spider’s escape route—a webline anchoring it to the ceiling—left a shimmering trail that mocked the swordsman’s fury.

  “Impossible!” Li Kun’s roar echoed off marble pillars. His fourth-tier warrior’s strike could cleave stone, yet the arachnid now vanished through an air vent, unharmed. Gasps rippled through the crowd as someone shouted, “Did that thing wear armor?!”

  Lin Hao pivoted toward the exit, the Fly’s wing-blades humming faintly under his collar. Three steps. Five.

  “Stop!” Li Kun’s sword tip quivered inches from Lin Hao’s spine. “That venomous abomination—it’s yours! Just like the metal-winged fly yesterday!”

  The auction hall froze. A hundred masked faces turned.

  Lin Hao paused, shoulders relaxed beneath his traveler’s cloak. “A spider killed your master? Perhaps you should train better eyes, not sharper blades.”

  Li Kun’s knuckles whitened around his hilt. “The molten essence iron dispute! You held a grudge!”

  With theatrical slowness, Lin Hao faced his accuser. The Fly alighted on his fingertip, its micro-blades catching the light. “You mistake poverty for pettiness. I sold that ore fair and square.”

  Metal shrieked as the Fly parried Li Kun’s sudden thrust. Sparks flew—the swordsman’s fourth-tier aura clashing against the insect’s earth-tier armored limbs.

  “By the Nine Hells!” A merchant recoiled as the Fly executed a mid-air somersault, kicking the blade aside. “Since when do insects master martial arts?!”

  Lin Hao crossed his arms. “Accuse without proof, and even shadows will mock you.”

  The Lin Clan’s security captain shouldered through the crowd, his scarred face impassive. “The auction house honors contracts, not feuds.” He nodded toward Lin Hao. “The guest’s pets are registered combat familiars. Legal under city statutes.”

  Li Kun’s face purpled. “Legal? That spider murdered—”

  “Allegedly.” The captain’s hand rested on his shock-rod. “The Lin Clan’s floors stay clean. Settle your blood debts outside.”

  Twenty enforcers closed ranks, their armor etched with suppression runes. Li Kun spat at Lin Hao’s feet. “The Ma Clan will flay your corpse for this!”

  As the swordsman stormed out, Lin Wanrong’s laughter tinkled like wind chimes. The auctioneer sauntered forward, her crimson qipao slit revealing a dagger strapped to her thigh. “Ladies and gentlemen! To apologize for tonight’s... excitement, we’ll halve commission fees!”

  The crowd erupted in cheers. A gem merchant slapped Lin Hao’s back. “Bless that assassin! Saved me ten thousand taels!”

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Lin Hao’s mask hid his grimace. I’m the villain and the patron saint now?

  The Fly scouted ahead as he slipped into the night. Two blocks from the auction house, the Wolf Spider dropped from a gutter, its diagnostics flickering green. Lin Hao scooped it up, feeling the hairline fractures in its armor.

  Ding! Combat analysis complete. Enemy threat level reassessed: Li Kun (Tier 4 Warrior) combat style—Whirlwind Blade Sect. Weakness: Overcommits on diagonal slashes.

  He stroked the spider’s dented carapace. “Rest. The real game begins at dawn.”

  Somewhere in the Western District, Li Kun knelt before a blood-red palanquin. “Elder Ma, the killer wears a traveler’s mask and controls armored vermin. He’ll be at the Beast Tamer Guild at first light for repairs.”

  A withered hand emerged from the palanquin’s curtains, clutching a jade vial. “Poison the guild’s water cistern. Let his pets drink first.”

  The vial’s contents glowed faintly—Starfall Venom, enough to melt a griffin’s gullet. Li Kun bowed, vengeance sweet on his tongue.

  He never noticed the Fly perched on the palanquin’s roof, recording every word.

  The Nether Pavilion

  Lin Hao’s gaze lingered on Lin Wanrong through the Fly’s compound eyes. Her beauty, sharp yet ethereal under the auction hall’s chandeliers, stirred unfamiliar warmth. “Half a year since we last met…” he murmured, turning away before nostalgia could root.

  The night air bit as he exited the trading center, the Wolf Spider scuttling from shadows to perch on his shoulder. Its armor bore a hairline scar from Li Kun’s strike—a testament to the dwarf smith’s craftsmanship. Next pet gets the same treatment, Lin Hao noted approvingly.

  Blackscale’s storefront glowed like a predator’s eye. Inside, Manager Tong greeted him with oiled smiles. “Jing Ke! Flawless timing on the hit. Eighty thousand taels after commission.”

  Lin Hao’s jaw tightened at the 20% deduction. Before he could protest, the door creaked open. A figure cloaked in amethyst silk entered, her presence lowering the room’s temperature.

  “Stay,” she commanded, voice devoid of inflection.

  Manager Tong blanched. “M-Madam Zi! This is most irregular—”

  “Silence.” The woman’s gloved hand flicked, silencing him mid-grovel. She turned to Lin Hao. “Your… pets intrigue me. The Nether Pavilion requires such… anomalies.”

  Lin Hao crossed his arms. “Never heard of it.”

  Manager Tong choked. “You—! The Nether Pavilion is the Emperor’s shadow blade! Their operatives execute kings and crack fortresses!”

  Madam Zi’s veil shifted faintly—a smirk? “We’ve monitored your work. A beast-tamer who weaponizes vermin against fourth-tier warriors? Unprecedented.”

  “What’s in it for me?” Lin Hao’s fingers brushed the Fly’s wing, primed to strike.

  “Resources.” She slid a jade token across the counter. Its surface writhed with imprisoned spirit flames. “Alchemical ingredients. Forbidden beast cores. Armies of artisans to armor your… collection.”

  The Wolf Spider stirred, drawn to the token’s dark resonance. Lin Hao hesitated. “And the catch?”

  “Trials.” Her aura sharpened. “Three missions from the Emperor’s own decree. Survive, and the Pavilion’s vaults are yours.”

  Manager Tong whimpered. “Those trials… last candidate was a fifth-tier swordsmith. They found his bones pickled in a wyvern’s bile—”

  Madam Zi’s glare froze his tongue. “Decide.”

  Lin Hao pocketed the token. Its chill seeped into his palm, whispering promises of power—and graves. “I’ll consider it.”

  As he turned to leave, her final words coiled around his spine. “The Ma Clan has contracted a Starfall Assassin. He arrives at dawn. Consider quickly.”

  The safehouse stank of sulfur and haste. Lin Hao arrayed his tools: venom sacs, spirit cores looted from noble brats, and the voidshard stone—now pulsing hungrily.

  Ding! Emergency evolution available. Consume 50,000 taels to upgrade Wolf Spider to Tier 4?

  He fed gold notes into the stone’s crackling maw. The Spider convulsed as its legs elongated into serrated blades, carapace hardening to onyx.

  Across the room, the Fly hovered over a vial of Starfall Venom—Madam Zi’s parting “gift.” Its proboscis siphoned droplets, wing edges darkening to lethal indigo.

  Lin Hao smiled. Let the Nether Pavilion test him. Let the Mas send their assassins.

  By dawn, his pack would be ready.

  And the hunt would begin anew.