After locking the bookstore door, Li Ming frowned at Bai Xin’s shrinking figure down the street. The sky had darkened completely, traffic lights bleeding into the neon glow of the city. He sighed to himself, "Hope it’s just my imagination… but this bad feeling won’t shake off. Tch. Better follow her."

He glanced around—no one watching—and vanished in a blink.

…

Bai Xin waited alone at the bus stop. Streetlights carved small pools of light in the darkness, but the streets felt emptier by the second. Shop windows winked out one by one. Her mystic necklace trembled faintly against her chest, and a trace of unease coiled in her stomach.

"Huh? What’s this?" She peeked under her collar. A faint green rune glowed on the necklace.

Bai Xin’s slender brows knotted. "I don’t remember getting a tattoo… and Ye Yu wouldn’t do this. I’d have seen it yesterday in the shower."

A rasping, broken-voice laugh cut through her thoughts: "Heh heh heh! Found you at last, little mouse!"

Bai Xin flinched. Two figures in black robes stood nearby—one edged in crimson threads, the other in violet. Beneath their hoods, shifting darkness swallowed all features.

The violet-robed figure raised a bony hand gripping a longsword pulsing with sickly green light. It swung. A phone-glued passerby split cleanly in half. Blood and viscera splattered the pavement. The stench of iron flooded the air.

"Murderer!" A chubby middle-aged man near Bai Xin shrieked, waddling away. His panic sparked a stampede. Onlookers who’d stared like she was crazy now scattered, screaming.

Bai Xin forced her hammering heart to still. *They’re here for me.* She locked eyes with the robed figures, face blank. Their aura crushed hers—running would be suicide.

"An, cast the Seal Barrier. Don’t let the trash escape," the violet-robed one hissed. Though his face was hidden, Bai Xin felt the cruel smirk beneath the hood.

"Already on it." The crimson-robed figure pulled a black disc swirling with dark mist from his robes. He hurled it skyward. A dome-shaped barrier—black as pitch, speckled with bloody crimson—slammed down over the block.

On a fifth-floor balcony, a teen stared in horror as his phone died mid-call. "This barrier… it kills electronics like a Sin Beast’s aura!"

"Heh heh heh! None of you leave alive!" The violet-robed figure flicked his wrist. Black energy blades shredded the fleeing crowd into crimson mist.

"Enough playing." The crimson-robed one drew a crystal ball glowing faintly green. He crushed it overhead. A thread of eerie green light shot into Bai Xin’s chest before she could react.

"W-what?!" The rune on her necklace blazed. Heat seared her skin. The glow intensified until a fist-sized, violet-black rift tore open over her heart.

A small white shape tumbled out—a cat. The same stray Li Xiao Xiao had found days ago: White Feather.

"Well, well. Clever little girl," White Feather’s feline muzzle curled into a human-like smirk. "Worthy of His Excellency. You even cracked my contract mark to reverse-summon this humble one’s—"

Normally, Bai Xin would’ve yelled *Holy crap, a talking cat?!* and examined every whisker. Now, terror glued her eyes ahead.

White Feather’s ears flattened. The teleportation dizziness vanished as it spotted the colossal Seal Barrier overhead. Slowly, stiffly, it turned its head toward Bai Xin’s line of sight.

The words died in its throat.

"Heavenly Mandate… You tracked me here?!" Fear and fury warred in its voice.

"Heh heh heh! Stormrealm Beast," the violet-robed figure cackled. "Will you come quietly? Or must we drag you?" The crimson-robed one stayed silent.

"Tch. Two ants like you?" White Feather sniffed the air. *Only B++ rank.* Its tail flicked, confidence returning. "Girl! Get back!"

Bai Xin didn’t need telling twice. She bolted.

The robed figures didn’t move. White Feather’s body swelled like an inflating balloon—fur rippling, bones cracking—until a two-story-tall golden-eyed direwolf stood snarling. Its voice boomed, deep and regal, shaking the asphalt: "Insects! Are you ready for my wrath?!"

Wind from its form whipped the robed figures’ cloaks. They didn’t flinch. Just stared up, faces still swallowed by living shadow.

A cold dread slithered down White Feather’s spine.