“Captain, how are we supposed to stand against the Twelve Divine Demon Artifacts?” Augustine asked, his voice tight like a bowstring in winter wind.

In a bare lot of the City of the Dead, Augustine stared at Ouyang, worry pooling like cold fog around his feet. Ouyang led the “Twelve Divine Demon Artifacts Suppression Squad,” so he had to be special. Yet fear gnawed at Augustine, like rain eating ash, afraid that sliver of hope would snuff out.

“We? No, that’s you,” Ouyang said, his tone light as drifting smoke. “As captain, I’m your tutor on the road of life, a lantern to keep you from wrong turns. Truth is, I’m just logistics.”

“Logistics?” The word hit Augustine like a bucket of cold rain, dousing the ember in his chest.

Seeing straight through him, Ouyang coughed, like a sparrow clearing its throat at dawn. “Of course, as captain, I’ve got strengths. Think of me as a walking library, a portable archive in the wind. I can give you data, abilities, weaknesses, everything about the Twelve Divine Demon Artifacts.”

Even after that tidy patch job, Augustine’s heart sagged like a wet banner. He’d expected the city lord to send a thunderbolt, a champion to crush those artifacts, and instead got a quartermaster in plain boots. Hope felt like a guttered candle in a draft; his face sank into a funeral pall.

“So, young man,” Ouyang said, his voice steady as a drum at dusk, “gather your friends. Lean on everyone’s strength, and beat the Twelve Divine Demon Artifacts together. This isn’t a task for one or two. Take it slow, and don’t crush yourself under the weight.”

Ouyang clapped Augustine’s shoulder, a warm palm like a small fire in the cold. The words struck flint in Augustine’s mind; the spark jumped. Right—this wasn’t a lone hero’s duel; only unity could carry them through the storm.

Resolve flushed him like sunrise washing stone. He bowed deep, spine curved like stalks under autumn wind. “Brother Ouyang, thank you. I get it now. Taking down the Twelve Divine Demon Artifacts isn’t for one or two. I was naïve, dreaming of being that lone legendary warrior, saving everyone and basking in praise.”

White Cat, perched on his head, stroked his whiskers with a grandfather’s ease, like brushing frost from bamboo. Ouyang flashed a bright smile, sunlight through cloud, and shot him a huge thumbs-up. “Good kid, sharp mind, you caught on fast. Next, we find teammates and forge a strong squad.”

He strode ahead like a blade cutting fog. Jade Rabbit kept his black butler suit sharp as midnight silk. Collin, in Void Church’s tailored garb, scanned the alleys with hawk eyes. Like Augustine, he moved uneasy under a sky that felt like a lid of iron.

Ahead, Bai pushed Caro’s wheelchair along the street, her pace quiet as drifting snow. A Nightmare Knight flanked each side like twin shadows, so no oddball dared intrude. Not like Augustine, who attracted weirdos like moths to a lantern; he still remembered that guy who loved falling from the sky.

“Hey, girl,” Ouyang called, voice bright as a bell, “you move well. Join our suppression squad. Let’s save the world together.” He jogged over and patted Bai’s head, a casual touch like a breeze over willow.

Augustine almost yelped, dread rising like thunder. When he’d only approached Bai before, her eyes had flashed like drawn knives. Ouyang walked up and touched her—wasn’t that courting death?

If the captain died, who would lead them against the Twelve Divine Demon Artifacts? Augustine still wanted Alice restored, his hometown back on its proper track. Panic clutched him like a cold hand.

He was too slow. By the time he breathed in, Ouyang’s palm was already resting on Bai’s head, rubbing like a cat stealing warmth.

“Cap—Captain Ouyang didn’t mean—he—he doesn’t know you…” Augustine’s words broke, thoughts scattering like birds. The girl who iced over whenever a man came close didn’t slice Ouyang into eight neat pieces. She simply allowed the touch, calm as still water.

What in the world?

“Are you here to avenge someone?” Bai’s hollow eyes held Ouyang like a winter lake holds the moon. She didn’t react to the hand on her head; she let it nest there, a silent rain.

Ouyang saw no resistance and got bolder, fingers combing through her silver hair like moonlight pouring through pine. Her strands slid across his skin like fine threads; he looked like he could play with that silver river for a year.

“You tell me, little one.”

His ambiguous tone spun Bai’s simple heart like a leaf in a swirl. She couldn’t read whether he carried hate or some other tide.

Not far off, Jade Rabbit and Collin whispered in a corner, voices thin as reed flutes. “Human kid, Rabbit Lord’s warning: that look on Ouyang is dangerous. Burn this in your bones—when you see that face, run.”

“So the silver-haired girl’s in danger?”

“Exactly. Ouyang inviting her isn’t pure. Once she’s under him, he can make her life a pebble in the shoe. With a flick, she’ll die on some battlefield. And fighting the Twelve Divine Demon Artifacts, who would suspect Ouyang when she falls?”

Jade Rabbit spoke softly, like snow, but did Ouyang ever miss a sound? He was there sweating to recruit the girl, and those two belly-full little followers were badmouthing him in the alley like gossiping sparrows.

“Rabbit, don’t think I didn’t hear you! No carrots this month. Go chew grass!”

Slandered before his own faithful, Ouyang flushed like a stormbank. He stalked toward Jade Rabbit, steps steady as drums. Jade Rabbit’s eyes widened, fear rippling like wind through barley. He backpedaled, heel by heel, heart jittering like a drumstick.

“Ouyang, I was wrong… I’ll never trash-talk you again…”

He hit a dead end like a bird hitting glass. Ouyang grabbed his two long ears, soft as silk ropes, and with a casual twist tossed him skyward.

“I was wro—”

The voice thinned to a thread, then to silence, then to a star winking into the high dark. White Cat shivered atop Augustine’s head, fur rippling like grass in a gust. Fellow beasts, both speaking man’s words—he mourned deep for his companion. Pick your rider well; with Augustine, even with a hundred borrowed guts, he’d never dare treat White Cat that way.

“I feel a sharp malice from that cat,” Ouyang said, smiling like a fox in sunlight. “Kitty, are you cursing me in your head?” He drifted close, and White Cat, who’d face a mountain slide without blinking, bristled from nose to tail like a pine in frost.

Ouyang snatched him, wrist spinning like a windmill, and flung him upward. White Cat, too, blurred into a star in the roof of night, his unwilling meow echoing in Augustine’s skull like a bell in an empty temple.

“Kid, don’t spoil little things like that,” Ouyang said, voice flat as a lecture. “Treat them too soft, and they’ll climb all over you. When it’s time to teach, teach.”

Augustine smiled stiffly, a cracked glaze over clay. Inside, he said nothing but a dry heh. Ouyang could get away with this; could he?

“You’re right, Captain. I’ll be careful,” he said, swallowing like a pebble catching in the throat.

In the end, Bai agreed to Ouyang’s invitation and joined the squad. Caro couldn’t because of her legs, but Ouyang pulled out—like a conjurer drawing moon from a sleeve—a big basin of Water of Life. Caro’s legs woke like spring branches, light and free. For the sake of restoring Rose Town to normal, she didn’t wait for an invite; she applied at once, a heart eager as fire. Ouyang wouldn’t refuse. The suppression squad gained two—Bai and Caro.

That night, while they hashed out strategy under a lamp like a paper sun, Augustine asked a question that had been buzzing like a bee. “Captain Ouyang, may I ask—what do you do? You know so much—even the academy mentors don’t have half of it.”

“Well…” Ouyang smiled, a crescent like a sickle moon. “I’m mainly here to preach. Fighting the Twelve Divine Demon Artifacts is your story. I provide intel, moonlight as your life mentor, and spread the Void Church’s faith to every corner of the world.”

“Void Church?” Caro, Augustine, and Bai blinked, faces blank as fresh snow. Then Augustine remembered a name, a chill cutting through fog—Void Messenger.

“Your Void Church—do you worship the Void Messenger?” Jue had left a deep mark on him, but the rank-one Void Messenger hooked his mind like a fish on a line.

“Right on.” Ouyang gestured, words smooth as silk. “This is Collin, Archbishop of the Void Church. I’m the High Priest. Our church is new, so we thought it through—while the Twelve Divine Demon Artifacts rampage, we’ll run with you brave ones and beat them. When you become heroes, our name will ride the wind with yours, and the Church will be known to more hearts.”

Ouyang was spouting with a straight face, his nonsense neat as rows of tea plants, when Jade Rabbit raised his furry hand, indignant as a rooster at dawn. “Ouyang, what about me? You didn’t introduce me!”

Ouyang glanced at those big buck teeth and stayed calm as still water. “This is our Church’s guardian beast. In practice, it has no combat power. It’s a mascot.”

Uh… a mascot? Augustine looked at White Cat snoring on the sofa like a cloud on a hill, then at the rabbit standing like a man. Both talked, both walked on two legs, yet the gap between this rabbit and Cat Master felt like a river in flood.

At Ouyang’s introduction, Jade Rabbit found himself—utterly speechless, words stuck like seeds between teeth.