Half an hour earlier, Hall Master Qitong—one of the Pantheon Cult’s hall masters—arrived at this remote town with a young female subordinate.
She was just the right age to convincingly pose as his son while he disguised himself as the mother. They’d used this mother-son ruse countless times to mislead targets. It never failed.
“Hall Master,” the subordinate reported softly, “our spies scoured the Eastern Empire’s archives. This clinic’s doctor shows zero signs of supernatural ability. He was merely a college intern from the start. Before the Wolf King vanished, he had no contact with any supernaturals.”
“Still… outsiders always keep an ace up their sleeve,” Hall Master Qitong murmured, hands clasped behind his back as they walked side by side.
“But no trick can match you, Hall Master.”
He chuckled. “Not every mission succeeds. But I trust this poisonous body of mine.” Flattered, he coughed lightly twice, playing it cool.
His entire body brimmed with lethal toxins. A single brush meant instant death. That was why his strikes almost never missed.
Ahead, the small clinic came into view.
“Play it safe. Observe first,” he said.
“Yes,” she whispered.
…
Lu Feng watched a “mother and son” enter. The “mother” cradled a boy, face etched with panic the moment she saw him.
“Doctor, please! My precious fell ill right after coming home this afternoon!”
The boy in her arms lay motionless, eyes shut, face pale—convincingly sick.
“Don’t panic. Sit. Let me check,” Lu Feng said calmly. He pulled a stethoscope from a drawer and gestured toward the examination bed.
Hall Master Qitong cracked one eye open, scanning the room.
Hmm… utterly ordinary. But why was a… wolf tied by the wall?
*Wait—that’s the missing Wolf King?!*
And that look in its eyes?
Hallelujah, squatting on the floor, locked eyes with him. A pitying gaze—the kind reserved for the utterly clueless.
*Haven’t been beaten in days, furball? Still grinning while leashed? Acting like a goofy Husky.*
Irritation flared. Back at the Pantheon Cult, the Wolf King ranked below him—tail tucked, stepping aside whenever a hall master passed. Now? Tied by the door, smug as hell?!
*Is the doctor some hidden master?* He sensed zero energy fluctuations. Then his eyes landed on the collar.
A demon-subduing collar meant for an Eighth Tier demon… strapped on a Fifth Tier wolf monster? What a waste!
*The doctor must own powerful artifacts unknowingly. Tying the Wolf King here like a pet? Definitely not his doing.*
Conclusion: just an ordinary man.
*Hmph. A lucky civilian. The Cult sent a hall master for this? Using a cannon to swat a mosquito.*
While he pondered, Lu Feng circled him, scanned his temperature, and frowned slightly.
*Damn it. He’s perfectly healthy.*
The act was slick—but to Lu Feng, gynecology expert and self-proclaimed psychology guru, utterly transparent.
*Afternoon illness? School day. Homework. Maybe cram school. Classic kid trick.*
As the saying goes: “Kid claims sickness? Probably faking. A spanking fixes it.”
Case closed.
Lu Feng pocketed the thermometer. “Ma’am, how do you usually treat your child?”
“Why ask that?” she stammered.
“Required for diagnosis. Please be honest.”
“Well…” She glanced at Lu Feng, then at the motionless “son,” feigning maternal worry. “I’m strict. Very strict on studies. Maybe… too harsh.”
“And discipline when he misbehaves?”
“Mostly… with a stick.”
Rehearsed. Flawless.
Lu Feng felt relieved. *What an enlightened parent.*
“Treatment’s simple. But it requires privacy. Wait outside?”
“No problem.”
She didn’t worry. Few could harm the Hall Master.
Lu Feng wheeled the bed inward.
*Since the parent’s “enlightened,” easy. No “juvenile delinquent protection law” here in the Eastern Empire. If Mom can’t spank you today… Daddy Lu will.*
“Lie face down. Don’t move.”
Rustling came from the corner as Lu Feng rummaged.
Hall Master Qitong obeyed, peeking sideways.
*Moving me inside? Creative suicide. Poison you soon—no one’ll find your corpse.*
*Just wait… let him lean close… toxins to the palm… fatal strike.*
“Stay still. Treatment begins.”
Lu Feng approached from behind, hands hidden, smiling cheerfully.
*Still smiling? Soon you’ll learn how “death” is spelled.*
Hall Master Qitong tensed to leap—
—but froze.
Lu Feng raised what he’d hidden: a thick, long wooden staff blazing with golden light, radiating immense power.
*This… Demon-Subduing Staff?!*
His face drained of color.
Lu Feng’s eyes flashed fierce. Golden light wove into a net as he swung down.
“Ora! Ora! Ora! Ora—!”
In two seconds, over a dozen sharp cracks landed squarely on the small bottom before him.
