Blood Debt Paid in Blood

Yueming Garden, Yuerong District, Yuezhou City. Inside a five-story villa at the center of the grounds, Pei Yurong, Master of the Hundred Demons Workshop, raised her glass and addressed the assembly. "The first toast goes to our vice master!" Du Wenming stood and raised his glass. Having successfully completed his mission the previous night, Du Wenming had risen from a peripheral figure of the Hundred Demons Workshop to its vice master. "The second toast goes to all of you for your heroic performance on the battlefield!" During the series of incidents the previous night, several members of the Hundred Demons Workshop had played pivotal roles. After this trial by fire, a portion of them would become the workshop's new backbone. A substantial number of the original cadre had been killed off by Du Wenming, so replacements were urgently needed. Among these newly minted core members was Gu Hao, Communications Section Chief of the Dark Star Bureau. "The third toast goes to our dream! The temple of dreams we forged with blood and faith is about to unleash its dazzling brilliance! Now, let us invite the emissary of the Demon Lord to bestow upon us guidance, encouragement, and blessings!" A blond, blue-eyed man clad in black robes stood up and addressed the crowd. He spoke in the Ravshan tongue. Most people present could not understand it, but Du Wenming could. His words held nothing extraordinary. He emphasized that this was a hard-won victory. Once the magnetic storm weapons were officially completed, the Demon Lord would descend upon the earth, and war would commence. Going forward, the Hundred Demons Workshop had to serve Demon Lord Chernobog with even greater devotion and create even more achievements under the Demon Lord's guidance. Pei Yurong translated the emissary's speech. The core meaning remained the same, but she made a few adjustments in phrasing, elevating the acknowledgment of their accomplishments and the inspiration for the future to a whole new level. "There are still many hard battles ahead waiting for us to fight! Our magnetic storm weapons have already undergone preliminary calibration. This is a new sword we have forged for the Demon Lord with our very lives! "Once the Demon Lord conquers this planet, we, as his most loyal followers, will become the world's first lords! We will gain endless life, supreme glory, noble status, and inexhaustible wealth! "Today, we raise our glasses to offer pious blessings to the Demon Lord! Tomorrow, we don our armor to present him with the wreath of victory!" Glasses clinked all around, and the atmosphere grew exceptionally lively. Du Wenming offered a quiet warning. "Master, gathering to celebrate like this at such a critical juncture might bring trouble." Pei Yurong smiled. "There are things you don't understand. Your life has been smooth sailing up to now; you've experienced too little and don't know the difficulty of managing the big picture. "The Hundred Demons Workshop won this battle, but our losses weren't small either. If we don't gather the core members and give them ample rewards, morale will scatter. If hearts aren't united, who will bleed for us? Who will fight the tough battles that remain?" Pei Yurong had once been a teacher, and she was prone to incessant moralizing, which Du Wenming found thoroughly repulsive. But he had to stomach his disgust; he was still waiting to collect his money. Once the banquet concluded, the ball commenced immediately. Pei Yurong had carefully selected over fifty women from among the workshop's members to serve as dance partners for the Demon Lord's emissary and the gathered heroes. Music drifted through the air, and western court-style crystal chandeliers cast their glow over the smiling faces of every newly promoted member. Inside the villa's resplendent hall, gorgeous silk gowns swayed gently across the dark yellow carpet. The women nestled into the men's arms, as though offering the most exquisite blossoms to the fiercest warriors. Dark yellow lights, dark yellow wallpaper, a dark yellow carpet, dark yellow gowns. Even the rhythm and melody of the waltz carried a dark yellow air of opulence. Du Wenming sighed internally. Pei Yurong truly harbored a singular fondness for dark yellow. The first dance had only just begun, yet Du Wenming already caught the scent of something strange—hot, restless, and agitated. And after the ball, even more frantic arrangements awaited. These festivities were slated to last for three whole days. Du Wenming felt deeply uneasy; he couldn't stomach the workshop's madness, which had been one of the reasons he kept his distance from them in the first place. Pei Yurong sent several women in turn to invite Du Wenming to dance, but he turned them all down. This displeased Pei Yurong. She despised spoilsports. "I made these arrangements because I have the power to guarantee everyone's safety. What isn't your business, you'd best leave alone." Du Wenming nodded. "I didn't mean to question you. I'm simply not accustomed to occasions like this." "Then learn to adapt. There will only be more gatherings like this in the future!" Pei Yurong said, her face darkening. "If you don't want to stay here, go execute your task. The Demon Lord's emissary has delivered Xiao Qianshou's payment. Take it to him." Du Wenming could hardly ask for better. Taking a wooden chest, he drove off toward Xiao Qianshou's residence. Xiao Qianshou lived in a small building within an urban village. Clothes hung drying below, and salted fish were laid out on the windowsill. At a glance, it looked like the home of an ordinary suburban household in Yuezhou. Without solid intelligence, no one would ever believe the grand patriarch of Thief Cultivators resided here. Holding the wooden chest, Du Wenming knocked on the door. Xiao Qianshou's voice answered from within: "Come in." Entering the living room, Du Wenming set the chest down and saw Xiao Qianshou sitting on a recliner, sipping tea. "Senior, you worked hard last night." "It wasn't as simple as working hard. I suffered immense losses on this job." Xiao Qianshou gave a bitter laugh and poured a cup of tea for Du Wenming, who noticed something odd about the way he poured it. Xiao Qianshou's posture was indeed peculiar; he had to conceal the rash on his hands. Picking up the cup, Du Wenming asked, "Senior, are you injured?" Seeing Du Wenming take the cup, Xiao Qianshou showed a faint smile. "Yes, I was hurt, quite badly in fact. You look injured as well." Xiao Qianshou deliberately glanced at Du Wenming's hands, checking whether the pus on the cup had stuck to his skin. If the plague infected Du Wenming, the Hundred Demons Workshop would surely find a cure. Du Wenming's hands did indeed bear wounds. "I was injured by the Eight Dou Scholar. Those useless trash from the Dark Star Bureau couldn't touch me." Xiao Qianshou stared at Du Wenming, looking him over as if catching sight of something. "Why does Zhou Badou always manage to track you down? Did he leave a mark on you?" "He did leave a mark at the beginning, but I had someone remove it. After entering the Outer States, finding me wasn't that easy for him. These last two encounters must have been through other means of tracking my movements." "The mark was removed?" Xiao Qianshou sounded skeptical. "Who removed it for you?" Du Wenming answered honestly, "He Jiaqing, a fine young junior of your pathway." Xiao Qianshou nodded repeatedly. "That young fellow is indeed capable. How did he remove the mark for you?" Du Wenming blinked, not understanding why Xiao Qianshou was asking for such detail. Yet there was no secret to it, so Du Wenming answered directly: "He observed me for a moment, then reached out toward me and pulled the mark out. The whole thing took barely a dozen seconds." Xiao Qianshou's brow furrowed slightly. "After reaching out, it took a dozen seconds?" "Yes," Du Wenming nodded. "His technique was quite swift." "Mm, quite swift!" Xiao Qianshou nodded again. "Little Du, you'd better be extra careful." "What do you mean by that...?" Xiao Qianshou nudged the tea leaves in his cup with the lid and blew gently on the liquid. "Nothing special. Just reminding you to be cautious in the future. "When He Jiaqing took your mark off, looking you over a few extra times was only natural. In our line of work, casing the joint is crucial. Taking a long time is fine—three to five months wouldn't matter. But when it's time to make the grab, you can't be slow. Taking ten-odd seconds just to lift a wallet... I'd say the boy's talent is nothing special. He won't have an easy time eating from this bowl down the road." 'Lifting a wallet' was thieves' cant for picking a pocket. The act of He Jiaqing extracting the mark from Du Wenming had been likened by Xiao Qianshou to picking a pocket, while the prior inspection was casing the joint. Taking a dozen seconds to extract the mark struck Xiao Qianshou as too slow. Was he saying He Jiaqing had done a sloppy job, or was there an underlying implication? Du Wenming wanted to ask more, but Xiao Qianshou raised his teacup. Since his host was seeing him off, Du Wenming had no choice but to take his leave. After Du Wenming departed, Xiao Qianshou opened the wooden chest. Inside lay ten sealed glass jars, each containing a severed hand submerged in liquid. At each severed wrist sat a metal sphere. Xiao Qianshou unsealed a jar and tapped the sphere. It emitted a sharp hiss, and steam vented from within. The five fingers of the hand twitched one by one—the signal that calibration was complete. Xiao Qianshou lifted the hand and sighed. "Things from the Inner States are flashy as hell. Suppose it'll do..." ... Returning to the villa, Du Wenming heard wave after wave of laughter pouring from the main hall and could roughly guess what was happening inside. He had no wish to get involved in such scenes. Bypassing the hall, Du Wenming went straight to Pei Yurong's bedroom. Pei Yurong had drunk a fair amount, and her emotions were running somewhat high. Reaching out, she wound her arms around Du Wenming's neck and murmured affectionately, "Dance with me, won't you?" Du Wenming didn't really want to dance. What Xiao Qianshou had just said weighed heavily on his mind. He Jiaqing's hands had been slow—what lay behind that? Pei Yurong extinguished the lights and lit a candle. It seemed this dance was unavoidable. Even if he was reluctant in his heart, his face had to show eagerness. At a moment like this, he couldn't afford to ruin Pei Yurong's mood. The candlelight flickered as the melody of the Sleeping Beauty waltz echoed through the bedroom. Du Wenming held Pei Yurong's hand, spinning lightly across the soft carpet. His steps were graceful and precise, every turn executed with poised composure. And Pei Yurong, whose face was usually stern to the point of tyrannical, seemed now like thawed frost, blooming with a rare tenderness. Seeing her in good spirits, Du Wenming seized the opportunity to make his request. "I need a laboratory to prepare for the next phase of research." Pei Yurong nodded. "Very well. I will select the location tomorrow, and I will assign a dedicated team of assistants to ensure you can complete your research smoothly." Du Wenming understood clearly: she meant to have people monitor him. Pei Yurong desperately wanted the research findings on the Boundary as well. No matter. All of this could be endured. As long as he got the money, as long as he got the equipment, and as long as he could survive the deadly plague within the next five days, everything else was tolerable. Speaking of the plague, Du Wenming felt a strange sensation. Ever since returning from Xiao Qianshou's place, his symptoms seemed to have eased considerably. It wasn't the feeling of the affliction being suppressed, but the sensation of being cured. Seeing his condition improve, Du Wenming's mood lifted as well. Pei Yurong blew out the candle, and laughter began to echo softly through the dark room. ... Sugar Lump stood before the door, hesitated for a moment, and didn't knock. Begonia stepped forward, hesitated just as long, and likewise didn't knock. Chen Changrui sighed and knocked on the door himself. A woman opened the door and saw three people standing on the threshold. Two women she didn't recognize, and one man she had met before—her husband's colleague. Inviting them inside, she asked nervously, "Old Chen, why are you here? Where's my husband? Why hasn't he come home? He hasn't been back in two days. Is he on another business trip? Like last time, gone for half a month?" Chen Changrui weighed his words, testing the waters carefully. "Manager Shen had an accident... you see..." "What kind of accident? Don't you sell electrical equipment? Isn't he your sales manager? What kind of accident could he have?" "Yes... well, a workplace safety accident. He was over by the workshop..." "What was he doing in the workshop? He's in sales!" "Well... while on duty, he took a client to the workshop, an accident happened, and then... he couldn't come back..." Chen Changrui had prepared thoroughly beforehand, reciting his script multiple times, but when the moment came to speak, it came out a complete mess. "Don't lie to me, Old Chen. What do you mean by 'couldn't come back'?" Shen Jingye's wife pulled out a fruit knife. Begonia and Sugar Lump tensed, but Chen Changrui held up a hand. He knew Shen Jingye's wife often hurt people with knives, but in reality, aside from Shen Jingye, her blades rarely harmed anyone else. "I cooked his favorite wontons. When is he actually coming home?" Shen Jingye's wife grazed Chen Changrui's cheek with the knife. "He... can't come back..." Chen Changrui's voice caught in his throat. "Stop talking nonsense! Tell him to come home! I'm not mad at him anymore! I won't pull knives on him ever again! If I break my word, I'll chop off my own hand!" She flung the knife aside. "Don't do anything rash. Listen to me first." "I really know I was wrong! He can hit me, curse at me, anything! Just tell him to come home!" "He... he can't... please don't..." Chen Changrui was choked with grief and could say no more. Sugar Lump stayed behind at Shen Jingye's home to prevent his wife from doing anything drastic. Chen Changrui returned to his office, rubbing his temples incessantly. The phone rang again. His superiors once more. Chen Changrui had already delivered countless reports, and he had no desire to give another. After work, Chen Changrui suddenly received a text message containing four words: "Call of the Petrel." He thought about replying by text, but after a moment's hesitation, he dialed the number directly. "Is the intel reliable?" "Bureau Chief Chen, no one dares claim one hundred percent reliability. I can only say the source is relatively trustworthy." "Where did you obtain it?" "Don't ask about that. Passing this intel to you risked my neck." "Tell me a little more—" "I can't say another word. I have to hang up." Chen Changrui looked at his phone screen again. Call of the Petrel. He called his secretary, Liu Ning. "Is Director Li back yet?" "No. He's been scouring for traces of the Hundred Demons Workshop with Tangyuan and Lightbulb. He's going half-mad with it—no one can talk him down!" "There's an organization called Call of the Petrel. Help me look up its address." Liu Ning recalled something about the name. "Bureau Chief Chen, that doesn't seem to be a dark-energy user organization." "Look it up first and tell me later." Chen Changrui hung up on Liu Ning and immediately dialed his superior. ... The next morning, Director Gao Yina arrived at the Dark Star Bureau, and Chen Changrui reported the lead once more. Director Gao's first question was, "Does Director Li Qi know about this?" Chen Changrui shook his head. "Director Li doesn't know. He is throwing everything into investigating leads on the Hundred Demons Workshop. If I tell him, I'm afraid he might take drastic action." Gao Yina sighed. "So you know such actions are drastic?" Chen Changrui shook his head. "I want permission from the higher-ups to conduct an initial investigation into Call of the Petrel." Gao Yina said, "Call of the Petrel is a literary club composed of literature enthusiasts from Huan Country and the State of Ravsha. To claim this literary club is the core organization of the Hundred Demons Workshop—such an absurd assertion requires evidence." "This is a lead I obtained through special channels." "Then disclose your special channel!" "I cannot reveal the channel." "Then how could the higher-ups possibly approve your operation? The incident involving the Hundred Demons Workshop has already put tremendous pressure on us. We are currently caught in the crosshairs of public opinion!" "We are in the crosshairs?" Chen Changrui lost his temper slightly. "The Hundred Demons Workshop has committed so many atrocities! They murdered our bureau chief, and we're the ones facing public condemnation?" "Bureau Chief Chen, please compose yourself! To date, you haven't produced a shred of evidence proving that this series of atrocities was committed by the Hundred Demons Workshop! Current public sentiment casts the Hundred Demons Workshop as the victim!" Chen Changrui raised his voice. "What happened at the Dark Star Bureau was the Hundred Demons Workshop silencing witnesses!" Gao Yina's voice rose just as sharply. "Where is the evidence? You have none! The only lead you can bring forward right now is the victims' cause of death—you claim they died of Dance Cultivator techniques, matching Du Wenming's signature methods! "That doesn't constitute substantive proof! Even if you solidify that evidence and pin suspicion on Du Wenming, you can't even prove Du Wenming is a member of the Hundred Demons Workshop! "You cannot find a single piece of substantive evidence connecting them to the workshop, and now you want to investigate a literary club? If this drags on, how many international disputes are we going to ignite?" Chen Changrui had no words to counter her. Yes, it was his own incompetence to blame. Li Qi had captured living targets, yet Chen Changrui still couldn't extract a confession. Soft questioning yielded nothing; pressing too hard risked making them detonate. Gao Yina rose. "Bureau Chief Chen, before taking action, I hope you maintain the rationality expected of a professional. "Furthermore, if Director Li Qi cannot fulfill his responsibilities as the head of the Dark Star Bureau, we will appoint someone to assume Bureau Chief Shen's duties. Please prepare for a handover." Gao Yina departed. Chen Changrui sat in silence in his office for a long time. Then he took out his phone and dialed Li Qi's number. ... Liao Zihui stood before his office window, watching the sunset over Puluo Province, then glanced down at the vinyl record in his hands. It was Jiang Mengting's newly released track. Liao Zihui had planned to mail a copy to Shen Jingye, but before he could send it, word arrived from the Dark Star Bureau. All these years, bumping heads with Shen Jingye, the two had harbored plenty of friction. Shen Jingye was hardly a saint, and he had pulled his fair share of dirty tricks behind people's backs. Yet just like that, he was gone... "Looks like your vengeance won't get settled either. Too many things to consider out in the Outer States," Liao Zihui murmured to himself. "If this were Puluo Province, a bastard like that wouldn't have survived past..." Halfway through his sentence, Liao Zihui's voice choked up. His secretary, Ling Sujun, knocked on the door. "Sir, there's a man named Jia Heqing requesting to see you." "Jia Heqing? Never heard of..." Liao Zihui paused for a second, then nodded. "Show him in." Ling Sujun didn't recognize Jia Heqing either, but since Liao Zihui nodded, she escorted him inside. The man looked forty-five or forty-six, dressed in a woolen overcoat, a bowler hat, and sporting an eight-character mustache. His attire was impeccably tailored, projecting the aura of a man of considerable standing. After a few pleasantries, both sat down, and Liao Zihui asked bluntly, "Young Master He, you've got nerve. Don't you know you're a wanted man? You dare step foot inside the Garrison Office?" Jia Heqing was He Jiaqing. He Jiaqing explained, "Commissioner Liao, if not for an urgent matter, you could lend me the courage of a hundred men and I still wouldn't dare darken your doorstep." Liao Zihui smiled faintly. "You're here for your family business, aren't you? You shouldn't be coming to me for that!" He Jiaqing nodded. "I know. The trouble lies with Li Qi." Liao Zihui advised, "You'd better not look for Li Qi right now either. He's practically gone mad. One wrong word to set him off, and your entire business will be utterly finished." He Jiaqing had come prepared. "I know a bit about what's happening in the Outer States. I came to ask you to relay a message precisely because I was worried my own words might be clumsy. I can do Li Qi a favor. I know where Du Wenming is." Liao Zihui froze. "You can't talk nonsense about this." "How could I dare talk nonsense? If you don't believe me, I can give you Du Wenming's whereabouts right now. All I ask is for you to show mercy and release my business." Liao Zihui said, "I'll have to discuss this with Li Qi. But as I said, Li Qi is on the verge of madness. This is no joke—even I hesitate to contact him lightly. You claim to know Du Wenming's whereabouts, but there must be a story behind it. If Li Qi asks, I need to be able to explain it clearly, don't I?" He Jiaqing simply told the truth. "Du Wenming had a mark placed on him by an expert. He couldn't remove it himself and came to me for help. "Because Du Wenming is ruthless, I couldn't afford to offend him at the time, so I helped remove the mark. But as a safeguard for later, I planted another mark on him. That's why I truly know where he is. "What I didn't anticipate was that Du Wenming would bury the mark I removed right on Li Qi's territory, which caused this misunderstanding between Li Qi and me. I want to take this opportunity to clear the air, and I'd be grateful if you could bridge the gap for us!" Liao Zihui nodded slightly. "Fine, I believe you. I'll contact Li Qi right away." ... Inside the morgue, the staff had all fallen asleep. Li Qi had used a music box to put them under. "The butterfly flutters away, the heart no longer stays... Who comes through the bleak, long night to wipe the tears away? Yearning for a touch of comfort, craving a little love... Old ties that should be severed linger on, leaving only sorrow..." He sat alone beside Shen Jingye's corpse, winding his gramophone and playing "Wild Grass and Stray Flowers Greet the Spring" over and over again. Li Banfeng had attempted his Fool Cultivator techniques, but to no avail. Mediums had already examined the body. According to their deduction, by the time the corpse was discovered, Shen Jingye's soul had already departed far beyond reach. The needle drifted to the inner groove; the record ended. Li Banfeng put down the gramophone and returned to the companion dwelling. He took off his jacket and sweater. He changed into a crisp white shirt and knotted a black tie. He donned a black suit—narrow waist and broad shoulders, a cut unique to Puluo Province. Taking a fedora from the wardrobe, he placed it on his head. Stepping out of the companion dwelling, he looked at Shen Jingye. "Little Shen, drop by my office in a bit." With that, he pulled down the brim of his hat. ... Chen Changrui went to the Carrier Section and requisitioned several dark-energy carriers. The section chief asked about their purpose. Chen Changrui smiled. "Taking them back for a bit of research. I'll file the paperwork tomorrow." Back in his office, Chen Changrui lit a cigarette. The core organization of the Hundred Demons Workshop had been located, yet no one cared. He had contacted Gao Yina earlier, but she opposed an investigation. He had then tried Li Qi, but Li Qi's phone wouldn't connect. He had sent Li Qi a text explaining the Call of the Petrel literary club, but Li Qi hadn't replied. Who else was left to turn to? If none of you will handle it, I'll handle it myself. One way or another, this matter demands an accounting. Chen Changrui got into his car and drove toward Yueming Garden in Yuerong District. Yueming Garden was a private estate. Getting through the main gates was his first obstacle. Two kilometers away from the gates, Chen Changrui parked by the roadside and draped a black down coat over himself. It was a heavy garment—a dark-energy carrier imbued with the attributes of a Hermit. Hermits possessed abilities akin to Dwelling Cultivators, endowed with the gift of remaining unnoticed by others. Relying on this down coat, Chen Changrui slipped past the estate security and walked steadily toward the five-story villa at the center of the grounds. Inside this villa lived the president of the Call of the Petrel literary club along with over a dozen key members. Every month, they hosted a literary salon here that lasted several days. Today was one of those salon days, and the estate parking lot was packed with cars. A great many people had come. If Call of the Petrel truly was the Hundred Demons Workshop under another name, judging by the number of vehicles, the workshop's principal members would all be present. Having clashed with them during the recent string of violent incidents, Chen Changrui knew their strength was formidable. Even without distinct class divisions, the workshop's members wielded numerous arts across diverse fields. In large numbers, the coordination between their abilities made them extraordinarily difficult to counter. And that was only against ordinary members. Chen Changrui knew Du Wenming was undoubtedly a member of the Hundred Demons Workshop. If he ran into Du Wenming, given the disparity between their current levels, Chen Changrui would surely perish. He entertained no extravagant hopes of vengeance. He only wanted to unearth a shred of a lead, a scrap of tangible evidence. Shen Jingye's body was still lying in the morgue; there had to be some kind of resolution. Chen Changrui switched on the recorder pinned to his chest. Even if he never made it back, he would at least preserve this footage. He would at least prove he had been here! Approaching the villa, Chen Changrui first scanned for the positions of bodyguards. In his experience, figures of this stature would never lack bodyguards. Yet after observing for a long while, Chen Changrui discovered not only an absence of sentries and patrols, but not even a greeter at the front entrance. Chen Changrui was a high-tier Peep Cultivator; his eyes hadn't deceived him. There truly was no one around the villa. Today was supposed to be a literary salon, and many guests had arrived. Why was the villa so quiet and desolate? Could the gathered intelligence have been mistaken? Was this month's salon not being held here? Even if the intel was faulty, Chen Changrui didn't want to come away empty-handed. Taking a look inside the villa might yield some clues. More than a hundred meters from the front doors, a pungent metallic stench assaulted his senses. The smell of blood. At this distance, the olfactory senses of a high-tier Peep Cultivator could not be wrong. He quickened his pace through the front doors. In the hallway, the red carpet was sticky and wet. Chen Changrui looked down and found the carpet's color strange. Near the baseboards, the original color appeared to have been dark yellow. Had the carpet been soaked red? Yes, it had been soaked in blood. That was the source of the stench. Following the hallway into the main hall, the crystal chandelier was still glowing. The dark yellow crystal fixture swayed gently to the graceful strains of the Sleeping Beauty waltz, its light shifting across sprawling pools of blood on the walls, floor, and tables. A dozen people sat slumped on the sofas, heads hanging, half-reclining against the cushions. Dozens more lay sprawled in the center of the hall, face down or face up in every conceivable posture. One man was pinned to the wall, a feather duster driven clean through his chest. Pressed flat against the plaster, he was still struggling feebly. Gu Hao. Communications Section Chief of the Dark Star Bureau. Blood trickled down the wall beneath him, and muffled groans still rose from his throat. Chen Changrui stepped to Gu Hao's side and asked in a low voice, "Who killed them?" "Li... Qi... He came in... danced first... then... killed them all..." Li Qi had seen Chen Changrui's message. Chen Changrui pressed on. "What was the mission Bureau Chief Shen assigned you? Why didn't you tell Director Li?" Gu Hao answered in a slurred murmur, "I just... told him..." "What were the details of the mission?" "The coordinates... the coordinates of the magnetic storm weapons... Bureau Chief Shen told me to give them to Li Qi... I just... told him..." Chen Changrui thought of taking Gu Hao back as a witness, but looking at where the feather duster was planted, it seemed unlikely he would survive that long.