Chapter 55: Those Who Insult Others Shall Be Insulted in Turn

I sneered and said, “What if I refuse?”
“You won’t get the chance,” the androgynous man replied coldly. Suddenly, he raised his hand, and a jet-black rope, as if alive, looped around me and tightened in an instant.
My eyes turned crimson in a flash, murderous aura seeping out. The Blood Fiend Blade at my waist let out a deep, low hum and shot out in a streak of blood-red light.
The rope snapped at once. I reached out and grabbed the Blood Fiend Blade, killing intent swelling layer upon layer.
“Courting death!” The androgynous man’s lips twitched. He had thought it would be an effortless capture, only to be humiliated by my resistance. Enraged and flustered, he suddenly raised both hands, and from his sleeve flew a talismanic seal adorned with golden markings.
The seal expanded instantly, bearing down on me.
“Stop!”
Two sharp, feminine shouts rang out. Nightingale and Chen Ying’en leapt in front of me, their forms blocking the blow as their magical power surged to shield me.
The androgynous man’s face darkened instantly. He barked, “Captain Chen, Nightingale, do you intend to obstruct justice for this brat?”
“Chief Shangguan, that’s not my intention. But Qin Feng made the greatest contribution in this Mani Society case. Even if you must bring him in for questioning, you could show a little courtesy,” Chen Ying’en said coolly.
“Chief, Qin Feng was personally appointed by Director Zhou. You could at least consider his standing,” Nightingale added.
Shangguan Qinghong’s gaze flickered. “Then have him cooperate,” he said.
“Chief Shangguan, why don’t you and your people step outside? I’ll talk to him,” Chen Ying’en said.
Shangguan Qinghong cast me a glance, made a gesture, and the group faded away like wraiths.
My face remained cold as frost, my silence unbroken.
“Qin Feng, Shangguan Qinghong is a peak sixth-level Onmyoji, half a step into the seventh. You can’t escape,” Chen Ying’en said quietly.
I gave a mocking smile, words squeezed from between my teeth: “I risked my life, bled, saved people—and this is my reward? To be treated as a criminal?”
Nightingale was silent for a moment. “Don’t worry. With Director Zhou around, you’ll be fine. Besides, Chief Shangguan isn’t a bad person; he’s just following orders.”
“Enough. I want to see if the mighty Ninth Bureau is really under the thumb of the Huo family, if the world truly knows no right or wrong.” I waved them off and strode forward.
Shangguan Qinghong and his men reappeared like specters, flanking me as I was taken to a car and swallowed by the night.
Chen Ying’en’s gaze was complicated. She took out her phone and dialed.
“Director Zhou, are you going to step in or not?” she asked, her tone edged with emotion.
“Hey, girl, I thought you didn’t like this kid. Since when are you so worried about him?” Director Zhou chuckled on the other end, sounding utterly unconcerned.
“This isn’t funny at all, Director. He’s my group’s advisor—I’m responsible for him.”
“Relax. Let the storm blow. At worst the boy will suffer a little, but we’ll make it up to him later,” Director Zhou said.
Chen Ying’en gritted her teeth. “I knew you were the one stirring things up. But don’t forget, with Qin Feng’s temperament, no compensation will matter if he finds out.”
“You still don’t understand,” Director Zhou sighed softly, and hung up.
...
The room was forged from black metal—solid, dark, and oppressive.
There was only a table and a chair. I sat in the chair, tracing sigil patterns with my finger as if practicing spellcraft.
Though I appeared free, the Ninth Bureau had sealed my dantian with a special lock, blocking off all magical power and leaving me unable to cast any spell.
Suddenly, the door swung open and a young woman stormed in, brimming with hostility.
I didn’t even glance up, treating her as air, continuing my study of sigilcraft.
A sudden gust of wind swept toward my face.

Looking up, I saw a whip streaking toward me.
A cold glint flashed in my eyes as I reached out to snatch the whip.
But just then, the whip flared with a ghostly light, broke free from my grasp, and lashed across my face.
Slap!
I raised my hand to shield my face, but pain flared across my knuckles—a deep, bloody welt marked my skin.
Huo Sirui gripped the whip, pointing it at me. “You’ve got guts, hurting my brother. Not even ten lives could pay for it!” she shouted.
I said nothing, only stared at her icily.
For some reason, a chill crept into Huo Sirui’s heart. My eyes seemed as cold as a demon’s from the depths of hell. Yet my power was sealed; I was no different from an ordinary man, while she was a proud third-level Onmyoji. She had no reason to fear me.
Irritation followed. Huo Sirui had been pampered from birth, gifted in the mystical arts, always the one others feared and fawned over.
To discover herself afraid now, she instinctively blamed it all on me.
“How dare you look at me like that! How dare you!” Her face flushed as she whipped me again and again.
Her lashes, infused with magical energy, moved with the agility of a venomous serpent.
I dodged the vital spots, but my body still bore the marks of several whips.
“Still trying to dodge?” Frustrated, Huo Sirui produced a tier-three binding chain and lashed me tightly in place.
Then she whipped my face once more.
Slap!
A sharp pain erupted at the corner of my mouth, another bloody mark appearing.
A violent anger surged within me, my eyes bloodshot, my expression icy and unyielding.
I swore silently that I would repay this humiliation a hundredfold.
“Still staring! Still staring!” Huo Sirui was gripped by sudden dread. In a panic, she struck me wildly, the whip raining blows upon me.
I didn’t so much as flinch, only kept my gaze fixed on her, and then let out a low, chilling laugh.
“W-what are you laughing at?” Huo Sirui faltered—she had never met anyone like me. Though she was beating me, her own fear kept rising.
“I have a secret. Want to know?” My smile was wicked.
“About your Huo family,” I added.
“What secret?” Huo Sirui demanded.
But I closed my eyes, refusing to speak.
“Hey, what secret? Tell me!” She stepped up, poking my chest with the whip.
Just then, my eyes snapped open; my mouth opened wide, and a Soul-Pinning Needle shot forth.
Huo Sirui was completely unguarded. My magical items had been confiscated, my power was sealed, and she herself had bound me with a magical chain.
At such close range, the needle I’d hidden in my mouth struck her forehead directly.
She was dazed for a moment.
Seizing the chance, I lunged at her, pressing her down.
I opened my mouth, aiming for her pale throat—had I bitten the artery, she would have bled out then and there.
But I was a little off in my aim. As we toppled, my head landed on her chest.

I didn’t care, though—this was my one chance, and I bit down through her clothes wherever I could reach.
The Soul-Pinning Needle, unaided by magic, only dazed Huo Sirui for a few seconds before she regained her senses.
Pain from her chest made her scream.
She pummeled my head, but I clung on, refusing to let go.
At that moment, agents of the Ninth Bureau burst in. Tasting blood in my mouth, I released her and rolled aside.
Huo Sirui staggered up, her face ashen, a bloodstain spreading beneath her left breast.
“I’ll kill you!” Huo Siyen drew a dagger and lunged at me.
But two members of the Bureau’s Discipline Unit hastily restrained her. They’d allowed her in as a favor, but if she killed me, the consequences would be dire.
Rumor had it I had ties to Director Zhou; though the Discipline Unit wasn’t under his direct control, if that old fox set his sights on them, their fate would be sealed.
A hysterical Huo Sirui was dragged out, the iron door locked behind her. The two agents seemed to forget the binding chain still wrapped around me.
So I lay there on the floor, unable to move, blood still at my lips.
I exhaled a long breath and closed my eyes.
Before, I could still practice sigilcraft or array drawing, but now, trussed up like a dumpling, I couldn’t even sleep.
Suddenly, I thought of the Eye of the Nether Dragon and began to focus my spirit on it.
A sudden roar in my mind—and I found myself once again before the Nether Dragon Hall.
The Gate of Karma showed no threads of fate; the Gate of Rebirth had no new souls.
But the Jiao spirit sensed my arrival and circled me ingratiatingly, hoping for a piece of Nether Crystal.
“Get lost, I’m in a foul mood,” I snapped at the Jiao spirit.
It flinched and retreated into its lair.
I walked to the great doors, ran my hand over the dragon heads at their center, and pushed hard. The doors didn’t budge.
“Nether Dragon, what exactly are you?” I murmured.
Suddenly, the eyes on the dragon head glimmered with a ghostly light.
“Nether Dragon, can you hear me?” I asked again, thinking I was imagining things.
The dragon’s eyes flashed again, as if in response.
“Could you give me a thousand Nether Crystals?” I asked offhandedly.
Nothing but deathly silence followed.
Clearly, I was overthinking things—no great revelation here.
Thinking of my current predicament, I muttered, “If only I had something like the Jade Talisman of Breaking Arrays, something to break the dantian lock, to shatter the binding artifact on me...”
At that moment, the dragon’s eyes glowed again.
Suddenly, three ghost-green flames flew from the holes in the Gate of Karma, and the dragon’s mouth swallowed them whole.
Then, from between the dragon’s jaws, it spat out a small, inconspicuous black ring, looking for all the world like it was made of shoddy black iron.