I Am Your Natural Enemy

The deafening roar of artillery was like firecrackers going off—snap, crackle, BOOM—the sound shook him so much it felt like his phone was vibrating.

It was past four in the afternoon, but in Old Linzi, night had already fallen.

The General Director of the Scorching Sun Department personally gave the order to help the local military district clear out their inventory—they were having a hell of a good time.

It’s all budget, right? Burn through it before year’s end and you’ll have new funds next year for even better gear.

Especially blasting a Demon Lair—it’s been forever since they went all out like this. Those cranky old-timers, the ones with mouths tougher to control than an AK, they’re the ones who joined the first sieges and still haven’t retired.

”Blast it! Blast the hell out of it—don’t try to save money… We need to think about public safety, right? Gotta clear out every single unstable, dangerous landmine here.”

The artillerymen’s tactical headsets squawked with the command staff’s hoarse shouts.

Everyone here except logistics was fired up and raring to go.

Inside the Demon lair, a mob of cornered Demons—who thought the Scorching Sun Department would never use such decisive firepower—were starting to regret everything.

Too bad there’s no use regretting now; when Scorching Sun makes a move, it’s settling old and new scores, all at once, no mercy.

The mountains that held their lair quaked nonstop, landslides breaking out everywhere.

Up in the sky, a missile trailed a long tail of fire, zigzagging midair as it locked on with pinpoint accuracy.

From first sight, three seconds later, it dove straight into one of the cave mouths.

A savage explosion erupted inside, the pressure skyrocketed, flames barreling forward in a roaring shockwave that swept through the tunnel.

The second missile landed right after, dropping into another entrance. A massive fireball blossomed in the heart of the mountain.

Flames washed out indiscriminately, burning up every drop of oxygen within the mountain’s belly in seconds.

Demons who’d tried to hide against the rock walls to avoid the shelling were now dropping like wheat at harvest.

A giant brown bear, six or seven meters tall, got hit head-on, its massive body shuddering as it staggered back a few steps, fur all singed black. It slumped against the rocks, shivering and gasping like a dying fish.

There was also a huge Monkey, eyes bloodshot, jamming for the exit to grab a breath of air. But just as he broke out into the open, a spark flashed in the sky, and in a blink, poof—the whole Monkey was just gone.

One of the region’s rare native Demons, just wiped out like that.

Elsewhere, the Demon calling Scarface Hu on video had already gone silent.

Scarface Hu gripped his phone, a little lost, cold sweat drenching his back.

Everyone seemed to have forgotten what the Scorching Sun Department really was—a violent organization, through and through.

Thing is, day to day, the one most restricted has always been the Department itself.

When it’s got enough authority, when the threat is high enough, Scorching Sun can call in every resource it can get.

Every resource it has—not just what it’s allowed to use.

If it comes down to it, even resources they don’t have, they’ll find a way to make them appear.

Scarface Hu finally got it—he’d been too careful. His aunt hadn’t come to save just his own sorry hide, she was saving the entire Demon village.

The video shook and then cut off.

Scarface Hu’s legs had been broken, and honestly, he was feeling like his aunt really did care about him—she only broke his legs, after all.

”Auntie, don’t worry. I promise I’ll give you a satisfactory explanation on this.”

Granny Fox let out a heavy sigh, voice thick with tears.

”To this day, Wen Yan never once questioned me, not even a word. He’s such a good kid, and you damn brats—look what you’ve accused him of.

Honestly, if it hadn’t been for your grandmother grabbing my hand before she died, asking me to watch out for you—

And if I didn’t know you’re not all that bright, but at least not plain evil—

I really would’ve beaten you to death myself.”

Scarface Hu knelt there, taking the scolding without a peep. Seeing Granny Fox on the verge of tears, he started to panic too.

”Auntie, seriously, if I can’t make this right, I’ll take my own head off and bring it to that kid as an apology!”

”I’m going. I’ll apologize to Wen Yan myself because of you little shits. As for the rest, handle it yourself—I’m pissed.”

Granny Fox turned and left.

Scarface Hu gathered every Demon in the village, his face swollen, eyes blazing with fury as he swept his gaze around, pointing at two Little Demons in the crowd.

”Tie those two up. Now.”

”Big Bro, your legs and your face…” one of the closer Little Demons mumbled.

Scarface Hu slapped himself across the face so hard it drew blood.

”Know what this is? This is my aunt loving me. This is her saving my sorry ass—and saving yours, too.

Now, investigate. If we can’t figure this out, none of us deserve to live.

Bunch of mutts, tricking me into targeting my own brothers, targeting the guy who saved my life—

If we don’t get to the bottom of this, I’ll never face the world again.”

...

At the Qinling Great Tomb, a helicopter set down at a makeshift landing pad.

A white French Bulldog hopped out of the chopper, stretched wide, and sniffed the air.

”Damn, this place reeks of ghosts. God knows how many stiffs are buried here.”

Soon as it spoke, a Ghost poked up out of the ground.

”Watch your mouth. We were formally recruited, you know. Right now we’re frontline troops.”

The French Bulldog snuffled, bared its teeth, and grinned.

”So, you know who I am?”

”No clue… police dog?”

”Listen up. Standing in front of you is the Scorching Sun Department’s top-rated canine expert.

I’ve got thirty-eight merit awards for operations I’ve assisted with.

Number of Ghosts I’ve helped wipe out: four hundred and seventy-seven.

Demon Kin: eighty-nine; Great Demons: three.

Demons: nineteen.

Other Different Races: sixty.

My daily ration’s fifty bucks, and I get eight servings a day.

Salary and bonuses not included.

And I’m not a police dog. I’m an expert. An expert, got it?

If you’re being polite, you can call me Lord Dragon. If you’re not, Brother Bao works too.”