Willow City Branch of the Nightwatchers
Lu Yunzhi returned to her office, arms full of documents.
A few Hunters were on duty—or at least, that’s how it looked.
Their job was simple. Outside of missions, most just slacked off: watching movies, gaming, killing time.
Hardly anyone used the downtime to get stronger or figure out how to survive missions better.
Not that they didn’t want to. After missions, nerves were frayed. Even with free time, thinking about improvement felt too exhausting.
No need to climb ranks anyway. Staying a Class B Hunter wasn’t so bad.
For those dead set on rising higher, years of pressure had left many with quiet cracks in their minds.
“Lu Yunzhi, isn’t your team on leave today? Why are you back?” A tall woman by the coffee machine glanced up.
Heavily made-up, around thirty-five.
In figure, face, even age—she was utterly outshone by Lu Yunzhi.
The only thing matching was the light yellow feather badge pinned to their chests: the mark of a Class B Hunter.
Lu Yunzhi kept her head down, tidying equipment for tonight’s stream. “Took a mission. Tomorrow Apartments.”
At home, even Jiang Qianyu saw her as pure, vibrant youth.
Now? Her tone was flat.
Not stress. Just bad blood.
“Just you?” The woman, coffee in hand, couldn’t help but laugh.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Ah, nothing. For you, it’s normal.” She shot a look at her three teammates and chuckled. “Guess no one wants to work with a murderer. Bad luck, huh?”
Lu Yunzhi’s hands stilled for a moment.
No retort. No explanation.
After a few silent seconds, she acted as if she’d heard nothing and kept packing.
Head bowed, strands of hidden black-and-blue dye veiled her profile.
The female Hunter couldn’t read her face. A strange mix stirred inside her—satisfaction, vindication… and a faint sting of being ignored.
“You killed again, Lu Yunzhi.”
“A living person.”
“Ever think he had an old parent waiting for dinner? Kids longing for their dad’s hug?”
“We Nightwatchers are meant to be lights in the dark—not blades at people’s throats. You should be in prison. Or worse.”
The woman kept talking. Others stayed silent.
Watching. Waiting.
A week ago, Lu Yunzhi had killed a man on a mission.
Not a monster. A human.
And she’d known exactly what she was doing when the knife pierced his heart.
It broke the Nightwatchers’ code.
Circumstances made it “understandable,” but punishment came: thirty percent of Team Four’s monthly bonuses gone.
“He deserved it.” Lu Yunzhi stood, face blank, smile long gone.
“That man murdered a little girl. Dismembered her. Stuffed her remains into every doll in that toy store—that’s what summoned *Mr. Brown Bear*!”
“And that store? Mr. Brown Bear spent his last penny opening it—his daughter’s favorite before she fell into a coma. His whole world. His only hope.”
“She woke up… only to be butchered. For five hundred bucks.”
“Even Mr. Brown Bear died there. Eyes wide open, forced to watch his daughter torn apart and stuffed into dolls.”
What she said wasn’t in the mission file.
Faces in the room shifted slightly.
The woman frowned. “So what? You overstepped. Police handle humans—not Hunters!”
“Go tell the police the clue came from a corpse wearing a brown bear doll—the same doll that had already turned five people into toys?”
Lu Yunzhi snorted coldly and walked out.
From the hallway, the voice followed:
“Hunters aren’t judges! Next time, take your ‘justice’ solo. Don’t drag us down. This time it’s money. Next time? You’ll get us all kicked out—or worse.”
Lu Yunzhi knew the truth. It wasn’t about the money. Or the victim.
It was the powerful man’s son who died last mission.
They feared fallout. So they cut ties.
Publicly, they said she’d be expelled. Privately, everyone knew she’d likely die on some “accidental” mission—taking teammates with her.
Dismissal wouldn’t satisfy *him*.
But right now, Lu Yunzhi wasn’t thinking about that.
In the car, she watched the city blur past the window.
*Was it wrong?*
If she hadn’t killed him, he’d have walked free forever.
Mr. Brown Bear took the blame. Zero risk for him.
Yet… what Gao Jie said held weight too.
She had no right to judge a living person outside mission parameters.
She wiped a tear that might not have been there, rubbed her cheeks into a brighter shape, took two deep breaths, and dialed Jiang Qianyu.
“Hey, Xiao Yu! I’m heading home now—wait for me, okay?”
“This mission? Watch me. I’ve got it locked.”
“Trust me. I’m steady.”
