Li Wei ignored the trio’s silent, oppressive stares. To him, that pressure felt no different from a breeze gently brushing through his hair.
He’d faced far more intimidating gazes before.
Annihilation. Devourer… other Demon Lords—even Undying barely made the list.
Had these three dared to unleash magical pressure like yesterday’s fool, Li Wei might’ve respected them slightly.
But not this time. He wouldn’t give them another chance to suppress him.
Yesterday had caught him off guard—too long in a human city had made him lax.
As Li Wei reflected, he glanced at the three and reused the same tactic:
“I have no money. And I don’t need to buy Legion victory bonds.”
“???”
The fierce trio faltered. The man in the center slowly reached up, peeled off his mask, and revealed a face slashed by a vicious scar. He drew a deep breath.
“Mr. Li Wei misunderstands. We’re not here to sell. We have a question.”
…Had the Legion’s overissuance of victory bonds created such a fixed impression? The scar-faced man’s planned tension shattered by Li Wei’s preemptive strike.
“Oh? What question?” Li Wei asked.
“We’d like to know if you saw Arnold last night. If so, please share his whereabouts.”
The scar-faced man spoke calmly.
Li Wei: “So you want intel on him?”
The man’s gaze flickered slightly. “Naturally.”
“Then—are you ready to pay the price?” Li Wei said evenly.
“The price?”
“Mr. Li Wei… do you harbor hostility toward us?” The scar-faced man narrowed his eyes. His two companions’ gazes turned icy.
“This isn’t about hostility.” Li Wei shook his head. “Do Legion members usually expect intel for free?”
The newly tensed atmosphere stalled again.
“…” The scar-faced man paused. “How much does Mr. Li Wei want?”
“Not valuable intel. Ten thousand gold coins should suffice.”
*Asking more might make them refuse.*
His eyes flickered. Without hesitation, he pulled a blue crystal card from his pocket—a common currency among Demon King Citadel expedition teams, worth exactly ten thousand gold.
Li Wei accepted it without ceremony.
“Can Mr. Li Wei answer now?”
Li Wei inspected the card, nodded. “Regarding the earlier question?”
“—Never seen him. Don’t know.”
Yue Lin: “?”
The three: “???”
In the heavy silence, even Yue Lin shot a bewildered look at the unreliable adult male casually toying with the card.
The scar on the man’s face twitched. “Mr. Li Wei… are you joking?”
“Why would you think that? Was my wording unclear?” Li Wei mused. “I haven’t met your Arnold. I don’t know his whereabouts.”
The scar-faced man’s expression darkened, voice cooling. “Are you toying with us?”
“Why? I gave you the intel.”
“What use is meaningless intel?!” a black-armored man burst out.
*Ten thousand gold!*
Their expedition earnings barely left him a thousand after costs, dues, and shares. And Li Wei just pocketed ten thousand with three words?!
Li Wei: “Then just confirm—I provided it, didn’t I?”
The black-armored man fell silent.
Li Wei added, “Of course, if you want *accurate* intel, I can investigate further—for an additional fee.”
“?”
Their minds reeled. *Entrust him again? Only if kicked in the head by a donkey demon.*
After a long pause, the scar-faced man spoke lowly: “If you truly had no info on Arnold… why say that?”
“If I’d said ‘I don’t know’ upfront, would you have paid?” Li Wei countered.
*So it’s our fault??*
Thankfully, none of their classes were rage-based—or their skill proficiencies might’ve leveled up from sheer fury.
Then Li Wei smiled faintly, glancing at the pendant on the left black-armored man’s chest.
“But you achieved your goal too. You brought the Glimmering Eye to question me. My answer—isn’t that the intel you needed?”
The scar-faced man’s gaze trembled.
“…Mr. Li Wei’s perception is sharp. Hard to believe someone like you lost their status panel.”
Inside the pendant lay the Rule Artifact Li Wei named: the Glimmering Eye.
Rule Artifacts possessed unique powers—some bypassing rank limits. Rare loot from Demon King Citadel zones, rumored divine gifts.
“No need to test me. I truly lost my panel,” Li Wei said calmly. “If I still had it, you wouldn’t be speaking to me.” Before the man could react: “I lack time to conquer the Citadel. Do you think I’d waste it on you?”
The trio’s aura visibly weakened.
Yue Lin silently shot the unreliable adult male another glance.
Li Wei regarded them evenly. “Detecting artifacts isn’t just about perception—it’s experience.”
Most circulating Rule Artifacts had limits: usage counts, activation conditions. The Glimmering Eye, widely used, detected lies, traps, illusions.
They’d believed Li Wei because it showed no reaction.
But it required constant direct gaze and held only three charges. Hidden in the pendant with a tiny hole, it still randomly rotated when active—forcing the wearer to subtly adjust it with magic.
*Did he spot the hole? Or my adjustment?* The black-armored man grimaced. Answers they’d never get.
With their hidden aim exposed, the scar-faced man silently stepped aside.
The trio watched until Li Wei vanished.
“My lord…”
A companion started to speak.
The scar-faced man raised a clenched fist. “If all you do is talk—don’t.”
“But… let this go?”
Another retrieved an obsidian-like eyeball from the pendant, hesitant. “The Glimmering Eye never reacted. Was he telling the truth?”
“True or false doesn’t matter,” the scar-faced man said coldly. “Arnold is missing. Li Wei was the last possible contact. That’s enough for our report.” His lip curled. “*We* have reservations about his identity. But that mad dog? His brother’s in trouble—he won’t.”
*That* was why Arnold was assigned the task.
…
“Why would the Legion seek out Mr. Li Wei?”
Tiffany stood dazed in the crowd, scratching her head. She’d waited half a day outside the merchant guild.
Good thing she had patience.
As a competent elven ranger, she’d mastered tailing skills—not for perversion, but for stealth during hunts. *Coincidental* misuse aside.
She’d expected Li Wei alone. Instead, he left with the little girl.
*Failed to find her parents?* Tiffany sighed. She’d hoped for alone time…
But watching him head home with the child?
No. She wouldn’t give up.
*Children are great romance tools!*
Could a single man handle a girl?
Then she recalled Vivian and the others—*he actually can.*
No matter. She’d *help* him. Showcase her maternal side.
No man resists a devoted, nurturing woman!
If Mr. Li Wei liked it… she wouldn’t mind being called “Mom”!
Puffing her chest proudly, she instantly tightened her cloak.
Greedy, malicious stares prickled her skin.
Then retreated.
She glanced at her cloak’s emblem—Dawn’s sigil, blazing like the sun, shielding her with untouchable radiance.
Only under this light could an elf live freely.
A brief pause. Then Tiffany melted into the crowd, following Li Wei’s path.
She didn’t dare follow too closely—Mr. Li Wei had razor-sharp instincts. Keeping several hundred meters back, she watched him lead the little girl home and close the door.
So he really did go home.
Tiffany took a deep breath, patted her cheeks lightly, and smoothed her expression into something elegant and composed.
But as she stood before the door, nerves prickled. She rubbed her legs together—her plump thighs, only partly covered by white over-the-knee socks, bumped tensely.
Just as she reached to knock, a finger tapped her shoulder.
Tiffany flinched, spinning around like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, fur bristling, a shriek rising in her throat.
With her senses? Impossible for someone to sneak up unnoticed!
But…
The scream died before it left her lips. Turning, she saw the silver-haired, red-eyed girl. On that painfully beautiful face bloomed a cold, sharp smile.
Elegantly, the girl lifted a delicate finger to her own glossy crimson lips—*shh*.
Yet the gesture carried the weight of an unbreakable cosmic decree, severing Tiffany’s voice mid-breath.
Every sound locked tight in her throat.
Then, with an impeccably graceful smile, the girl met her eyes.
“Hah~"
“Tell me, Miss Lowly Elf-Cow… just what *are* you doing standing before *my* husband’s doorstep?”
Sound vanished from Tiffany’s world.
In that single heartbeat of eye contact—
Her mind was violently yanked into a grand illusion.
A sea of corpses and blood. Upon a throne of bleached bones sat a sovereign.
The girl on the throne gazed down from an unassailable height. Her lovely smile dripped with chilling malice. From her crimson eyes, bloodthirsty intent surged like a tangible crimson tide, threatening to drown Tiffany whole.
Tiffany’s pupils shrank wildly—then blurred. Cold sweat drenched her. Like a broken doll battered by a sudden storm, she stood frozen, stripped of all will to move.
