The Woman Who Descended Upon a Man!

Ye Huan assumed a martial stance. Iron Cloth Shirt, First Form: Iron Hand Force. As the technique circulated, his entire body instantly hardened like iron. Yet he did not dare strike out. A Shidu martial artist who had opened an acupoint could level this entire building with a casual blow. Left with no choice— Ye Huan reached back and slapped himself on the behind. *Clang! Clang!* The sound of striking metal echoed through the room. His backside tingled from the impact, yet remained as hard as iron. It worked! No weak spots left! "Iron Cloth Shirt..." Satisfied, he turned his gaze back to the skill tree in his mind. It was plain to see that the original Iron Sand Palm, Dragon Hammer, and Iron Hand Bars the River had all upgraded as well! Next, he checked the Turtle Breathing Art. This technique could definitely grow stronger too! It might even change names! Skill points... He needed skill points! Perhaps during the Daily Settlement, there was a chance of drawing skill points. A more dependable method was to cultivate other techniques and sacrifice them to convert into skill points. Ye Huan pondered silently. Suddenly, his phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number. Strange. Why did this unfamiliar number feel vaguely familiar? "Hello?" Ye Huan answered. "Hello, is this Ye Huan?" a woman's voice asked from the other end. "Speaking. Who is this?" Ye Huan asked. "..." The call disconnected. Ye Huan fell into deep thought. This world had no spam calls or telemarketing scams. People's communications were remarkably clean. Unless it was a wrong number. Yet she had specifically asked if he was Ye Huan. ...Forget it. No point overthinking it. Ye Huan returned to his computer, powered it on, and brought up his work terminal. Among the options was an "Identity Inquiry" module. —When the Bureau of Investigation wanted to look into someone, they had more than enough ways! Ye Huan clicked open "Identity Inquiry," which was divided into categories such as Facial Recognition, Household & Vehicle Registration, and Phone Numbers & Network IDs. He directly entered the number that had just called him. *Beep!* The subscriber information for the phone number promptly appeared on screen: "Name: Ye Huan." "Sex: Male." "Age: 18." "Affiliation: Lantie City Bureau of Investigation, Rank-One Investigator." It was him. That number was his? A citizen could register at most two SIM cards; any more was prohibited. So that woman had called him using the other SIM card registered under his own identity. Who was she? Why didn't he have the slightest recollection of this? Ye Huan was brooding over it when his phone rang again. A highly professional male voice came through: "Hello, sir. You previously browsed apartment rental listings and left your contact information." "May I ask if you are still looking to rent?" "I am," Ye Huan replied. Whatever, business first. He really did need to rent a place. ... In the darkness. A door lock clicked. A burst of chatter broke the stillness. "Please follow me inside." "This studio is a total of twenty square meters, quite spacious, and comes with a private bathroom. The area downstairs is bustling, very convenient to get anywhere." "The people renting here all work nearby and share a similar background to you. The tenant demographics aren't complicated at all, so it's extremely safe." "Mr. Ye, what do you think?" A brief silence followed. A soft, soothing male voice spoke up: "You say they share a similar background to mine—what background is that?" The rental agent glanced at his clipboard and replied, "Aren't you a PE teacher at the Fifth Elementary School, Ye Huan? It's clearly listed on your citizen registry. There's no mistaking it." Ye Huan nodded. The identities of Bureau of Investigation members were strictly classified. On the surface, he was a PE teacher at Lantie City's Fifth Elementary School. No matter who checked, that was the identity they would find. "Alright, I'll be blunt—I find this room chilly," Ye Huan said. "Chilly?" The agent looked surprised. "The window is blocked by the neighboring building, making the room overly damp and cold. The bathroom's orientation is terrible with no sunlight—and the hallway outside is dark and humid as well," Ye Huan pointed out. "Once the weather gets hot, you won't even need air conditioning here. Think of how convenient that is," the agent said with a smile. "Fair enough, but why is there red paper pasted on the walls?" Ye Huan asked. Red paper? The agent turned to look. Though the room was dim, the strips of red paper pasted across the walls were clearly visible. Sheets and strips of it, seemingly stuck there for a long time, had faded slightly. Staring at them for too long brought an inexplicable sense of dread. Not only that. Several oddly shaped dolls were arranged on the coffee table, each wearing a smiling expression as they stared fixedly at the two men. In the gloom, their smiles seemed twisted, stirring an uneasy discomfort deep in the chest. "The red paper was put up by the previous tenant. They were celebrating a wedding in here." "Oh, is that so?" "Of course. Just tear them off, and that'll be that." As the agent spoke, he reached out to tear one down. He pulled off a sheet. A gust of wind blew. The torn sheet of red paper fluttered right back onto the wall and stuck in place. Both Ye Huan and the agent fell silent. The agent cleared his throat, walked over toward the other side, and said loudly, "Come check out the bathroom. It's very roomy, has great separation between the wet and dry zones, and there's even space for a washing machine." He reached out and pushed open the bathroom door. Inside, it was pitch-black. A red dress hung from a clothes pole, casting a long silhouette against the dark. Vivid and bright. The draft from opening the door caused it to sway gently. Looking more like a person with every movement. The agent's voice trembled slightly. "The previous tenant left in a hurry and forgot they had clothes in here. Clean it up in a bit, and everything will be fine." "Wait?" Ye Huan suddenly spoke. "What is it, Mr. Ye?" "There's a woman in red right above your head... She's looking at you." The agent let out a howl and bolted out the door. *Crash!* The door slammed open, and frantic footsteps faded down the corridor. The apartment fell into stillness once more. The corner of Ye Huan's mouth twitched, a faint trace of mockery surfacing on his face. This agent really lacked any conscience in doing business. —Did the guy truly think he hadn't done his homework before coming? This was a haunted crime scene! *Beep, beep, beep.* His phone rang. "Section Chief." "How is the investigation going on your end?" Song Fushan's voice came through the receiver. "The apartment is empty. No suspicious leads discovered for the time being," Ye Huan replied. "Check the surrounding area, and report to me tomorrow morning," Song Fushan instructed in a solemn tone. "Understood, Section Chief!" Ye Huan acknowledged. The call disconnected. Report tomorrow morning. That meant once he finished searching this rental unit, he was free for the afternoon and could rest without heading back to the office. A truly harmonious and accommodating administration. Ye Huan felt a surge of appreciation as he continued observing the apartment. A lead had pointed to this rental unit, claiming that followers of the Black Tide Cult had appeared here three months ago. A murder and dismemberment had occurred inside. Song Fushan had seized upon this clue and decided to launch an investigation. In truth, even a newcomer like Ye Huan could tell that this lead was practically useless by now. After last night's operation, the members of the Black Tide Cult were already frightened birds ready to flee at the twang of a bow. This place had already been searched multiple times. Even if there had been any clues, they would have long since ceased to exist. Yet Song Fushan had ignored others' suggestions and insisted on investigating this spot. Ye Huan had a good idea of what his boss was thinking. —Song Fushan had earned massive merit by slaying the mutated martial artist, and even his subordinate had received a Third-Class Merit. That was more than enough. If there were any more merits to be had, let the others fight over them. This useless lead was a dignified way to retreat and keep envious rivals from stirring up trouble. —*I'm working. The results might not be impressive, but I haven't slipped up either.* That was all it took! It gave them an excuse to rest for a spell! "Three months ago... followers were spotted here..." Ye Huan couldn't help shaking his head. Whatever. One last look, and he'd take his leave. He paced around the room, knocking lightly against the walls, and then went back into the bathroom for another look. He hadn't noticed earlier. Inspecting closely now, he noticed a line of words emerging from the bathroom wall: *Black Tide Concealer.* Huh. There actually was a discovery. Yet the Section Chief had basically given him time off. Besides, his orders were to "check the surrounding area and report tomorrow morning." So why stir up trouble for himself? As long as he avoided trouble today and made it smoothly to tomorrow, wouldn't he get another round of settlement draws? Ye Huan turned around, walked out of the apartment, and pulled the door shut. A line of information quietly surfaced in his mind: "The enemy's strength is unknown, and they have very likely sacrificed their soul, possessing means for mutual destruction." "Under these circumstances, you gave up on a reckless clash and survived." "Evaluation +1." Not bad. His evaluation had already reached +2 today. Wait— Could this evaluation be farmed? If he stepped back into the rental unit, took another turn, and decided to leave again, would he earn another Evaluation +1? Ye Huan halted in his tracks. However, a message promptly flashed in his mind: "Stepping back into peril is a foolish choice and will not increase your evaluation." Boring. Fine, I'll just leave. Ye Huan let out a regretful sigh and went to press the elevator button. Suddenly, a voice rang out: "Please wait a moment." He turned his head to look. A strange man had just emerged from that very crime scene and was greeting him. Above his head floated several words: *Black Tide Concealer*. I didn't provoke you. Yet you come provoking me? "I don't believe we've met," Ye Huan said calmly. The corridor window beside him was open. This was the fifth floor. If he activated Iron Cloth Shirt and jumped straight out, he should be fine. His body wouldn't suffer any damage, and he would still be able to escape. "A great existence has words for you," the man said. "I get nervous speaking with people face-to-face. I'd prefer it to give me a call. If you agree, I'll leave my phone number," Ye Huan offered. "It has arrived," the man said. "Where?" Ye Huan asked, taking a step back. A series of clicking and cracking sounds erupted from the man's body. Countless bones began shifting shape, while his muscles and form contorted and warped without end. Within mere seconds. He had transformed completely into a woman.