Author's Preface
"Ehh... What are we doing here exactly?" Mark asked.
They had somehow found themselves in a beast market. The place was a cacophony of noises and smells. The air carried the scent of hay, damp earth, animal musk, and the occasional whiff of something burnt.
Mark found the sight strangely difficult to reconcile with everything he had seen since arriving in this world.
If anything, Rivergate had struck him as surprisingly advanced. It might not have the internet, air conditioning, or cameras, but it possessed countless wonders that Earth simply didn't. The Echostone alone was enough to prove that.
From what Leaf had explained, it was a genuine stone capable of transmitting continuous Qi-infused sound waves across the city. People had invented ways to create different channels, then miniature array formations that resonated with those frequencies, allowing anyone carrying one to listen. Speaking into a channel required only a small fragment chipped from the original Echostone.
Its architecture had been equally astonishing. Levitating towers, cloud-piercing pagodas, rotating ring-shaped buildings... and yet the scene before him looked as though it had been pulled straight from a primitive medieval marketplace.
Rows of makeshift stalls stretched across the open square. Rather than permanent shops, most were little more than canvas tents draped over wooden poles, their sides left open so people walking by could peer directly inside. Vendors comfortably sat on stools or battered crates, loudly clamoring about the quality of their beasts while curious customers wandered from stall to stall at a leisurely pace.
One waist-high steel cage held an entire litter of creatures resembling chinchillas, save for their dark crimson fur and fox-like ears. They were slightly larger than kittens, and every now and then one puffed out its cheeks before sneezing a tiny stream of sparks, drawing delighted laughter from a nearby child whose amazement nearly matched Mark's own.
In another enclosure stood several lambs so large their backs nearly reached a man's chest. Their wool was a pale golden white, while magnificent horns curled three or four times over themselves like carved spirals. Despite their imposing size, they lazily chewed bundles of grass, utterly indifferent to the bustle around them.
Further along, a group of pigs wallowed in a muddy pen. At first glance, they seemed ordinary until he turned sideways. Overlapping silver scales covered their backs, glistening beneath a humongous lantern in the middle, while jagged bony plates ran along their spines, making them resemble miniature dinosaurs.
The market only grew stranger the longer he looked.
A two-tailed rabbit bounded across the path entirely on its own. Where it was going, nobody knew. Nobody even seemed to notice it except Mark.
A bird sporting six brilliantly colored wings squawked at him from a wooden perch.
Somewhere deeper within the market, something massive let out a low, rumbling growl that rolled through the air.
Leaf, however, paid none of it any mind. He walked straight through the bustling marketplace before stopping in front of an unremarkable tent near its edge.
Behind the merchant's tent hung two heavy sheets of dark cloth serving as a curtain. Leaf pushed them aside, revealing a narrow wooden doorway concealed behind a wooden stall, then stepped through without hesitation. Mark followed dutifully after him.
Beyond the doorway, a set of old wooden stairs creaked beneath their feet as they descended into a basement.
The room below was surprisingly empty and dark, very dark. Mark was mildly startled by how comfortably he could see despite the lack of light.
Dust blanketed the floor. A handful of old crates had been stacked haphazardly against one wall. Several barrels rested in a corner, their iron bands rusted with age. Beside them leaned a pair of broken doors and a pile of splintered planks that looked as though they had been discarded years ago.
There were no beasts, no merchants, no signs of life at all. Only a forgotten storage cellar hidden beneath the bustling market above. The muffled cries of countless animals filtered through the ceiling in distant waves, making the silence below feel even more peculiar.
Mark slowly turned toward Leaf. "Okay," he said. "I'm officially confused. What are we doing here?"
"You'll find out soon enough."
Leaf walked to the center of the cellar before motioning Mark over. "Come stand beside me."
Once Mark did, Leaf retrieved a golden crystal from his storage ring and poured Qi into it. The crystal flared to life. A moment later, a vast golden array peeled itself free from the floor, intricate lines and symbols erupting across the cellar in a blinding burst of light.
Before Mark could even take a proper look at it, the light swallowed them both, and they vanished.
...
The world twisted.
An odd sensation of weightlessness seized Mark for a brief instant before his feet once again found solid ground.
The first thing he noticed was the sound.
Waves.
A steady, rhythmic crashing echoed through the room, followed by the gentle hiss of retreating water. It was neither loud nor distant, but constant, as though the sea itself lay only a stone's throw away from him.
The second thing he noticed was the light. Blue, white, and bright.
The northern wall was occupied almost entirely by what appeared to be a great window, though one glance was enough to tell him it was no ordinary pane of glass. A translucent screen of faintly glowing spiritual energy stretched from floor to ceiling, displaying an image with perfect clarity.
Morning had already arrived there, and the blue ocean extended as far as the eye could see, its surface glittering beneath early sunlight. Massive dark rocks jutted from the water near the shore, where waves ceaselessly crashed against them, sending white sprays into the air.
Mark blinked. "Wasn't it still dark just a minute ago?"
"We're still in Rivergate; that's just a projection."
"A projection," Mark repeated with a proud smile. "That I understand."
This was no simple hideout, though. He thought as his eyes darted around.
It possessed the strange appearance of several rooms forcibly merged together into one, for it was far too big.
At its center stood a massive bronze furnace nearly twice a man's height. Incomprehensible runes covered its surface, and the faint scent of herbs and ash lingered around it. Beside it stood a simple wooden chair, positioned as though someone often sat there while tending to the furnace.
Against the wall invaded by the waves stretched a work station so long it could have seated a dozen men. The desk was cluttered with all manner of objects: glass jars containing dried herbs and powders of every imaginable color, chunks of strange ores, neatly arranged spirit beast bones, tiny formation flags no larger than palms, and dozens of array discs stacked in orderly piles.
Another section of the room seemed like an armory.
Weapon racks lined the wall, holding swords, spears, halberds, and bows of varying lengths and designs. Nearby stood a wooden training dummy, its surface scarred by innumerable strikes. A small square sparring ring occupied the corner, enclosed by thick leather straps stretched between wooden posts.
At the far end of the chamber rose a high stone platform. A simple meditation mat sat at its center.
Surrounding it in a perfect circle were a dozen transparent crystal towers, each no taller than a man's knee. They emitted a soft blue radiance that covered the platform in a delicate glow, causing the area to feel inexplicably tranquil.
Ba-dump.
His heartbeat stumbled as heat surged through his veins, followed by a sudden, inexplicable hunger. Every instinct screamed that the platform held something of immense value.
In stark contrast to everything else, another corner of the hideout contained nothing more than a modest wooden bed and a small bedside table.
Yet it was not the bed that drew Mark's attention.
It was the figure beside it.
A gigantic metal puppet sat motionless in a lotus posture.
Nearly three meters tall, its frame was broad enough to rival a small giant. It wore a dark robe that draped over its metallic body, and its face was completely concealed beneath a deep hood, revealing nothing of the face beneath. A broadsword, taller than most men, rested upon its back.
It sat perfectly still. So still, in fact, that it resembled a statue.
"What is that?" He mumbled.
"It's just a puppet for protection," Leaf explained. "It only activates when it senses an intruder. Don't worry."
"So what now?" Mark asked. "You said something about getting battle ready."
"Hmm..." Leaf thought for a moment. "I don't know if we should start with the forbidden scripture or the Spell Orbs. Maybe the orbs. They'll help you build enough strength and confidence to tackle the rest. But first, let's discuss our strategy."
"I don't think I can help you much with that." Mark smiled. "I don't know much of anything."
Leaf looked at him. "What is the clue about the case that we have?"
"The gang?" Mark hesitated.
"Yes. You were killed by them. Why?"
"It's not really something we can answer right now." Mark shook his head. "We need to focus on finding an avenue where we can gather more information, which still brings us back to the gang. What do you know about them?"
"See? You're already being helpful." Leaf chuckled before making his way toward a chair beside the projection. The chair drifted over on its own as though it had a mind of its own, and he casually sat down. "You know, I have a lot of good toys in this place."
He gestured toward the projection. "Look at this."
The waves rippled away before a series of images began flowing across it. Leaf was walking across a busy walkway as carriages hurried past beside him.
"This is from this morning," Leaf said.
"These are your memories?" Mark asked. "I thought you needed that Remembrance Tablet."
"That's just more convenient. This artifact can do the same thing, and much more." The projection showed him standing before a newspaper stall.
"These are called newspapers," Leaf explained. "They report on events happening throughout the city, sometimes even across the Empire. I remember reading about an incident at the docks five days ago."
The view zoomed toward the newspaper.
"Wait..." He said as the projected Leaf slowly skimmed the front page before turning it over. A new article filled the screen.
"When Will It Stop? Dark Root and Red Hook Brotherhood at It Again. Glorified tribalism for lost youths, unchecked violence, unfounded notions of loyalty, all to serve those at the top and make them wealthier. The Guards' Office continues to claim it has no leads. At least they've shared a prime suspect..."
Beneath the article appeared the portrait of a rough-looking man. Bald. Fierce eyes. Thick root-like tattoos wound across his scalp, forehead, and neck.
Lee Ziyang.
Age: 127
Cultivation: Core Formation.
"Damn..." Mark blurted. "That's a hundred and twenty-seven years old? He only looks slightly older than me."
"Look." Leaf drew his attention back to the projection.
The rest of the article faded into darkness until only Lee Ziyang's face remained. It glowed softly before compressing into a floating golden marble that emerged from the screen.
The projection shifted again, now divided into dozens of smaller windows displaying streets, intersections, parks, and entrances to buildings.
"Don't tell me..." Mark murmured. "The cameras?"