One-Eyed Monster

As Kuyi Tulan’s lips curled up, screams echoed from several corners of the Fly Tavern.

The tavern attendant glanced around, unable to believe what he was witnessing.

Though this Fly Tavern wasn’t large, quite a few incidents occurred here. The attendant wasn’t particularly skilled, but he had seen plenty of strange happenings. Yet, this was a scene he could never have anticipated.

Gradually, five black-robed figures emerged from the corners of the tavern. Their faces were contorted, bodies twisted, completely bound by ropes that kept tightening, seemingly intent on strangling them to death.

The scene was terrifying—the attendant saw no fighting—yet these hidden figures were subdued, and he had no clue about how or when they had entered the tavern.

The five people kept groaning in pain due to the ropes, which appeared to be ordinary but were visibly causing them significant distress, as Spirit Power gushed out of them, seemingly absorbed by someone.

”Weren’t we here to exchange information?” one of the black-robed figures managed to say while struggling; the others had no control over themselves.

The twisted bodies convulsed on the ground, as if all their Spirit Power was drained.

”I came here to get information!” Kuyi Tulan stated calmly, holding a cup that had transformed under the Exchange Spell from ceramic to a dazzling, translucent glass.

”You’ve killed them all! How can you possibly get information? I can’t tell you secrets belonging to five people!”

”I left you alive not to learn your secrets,” Kuyi Tulan said, finishing the drink and suddenly clenching his fist, followed by the sound of cracking bones.

”You think that can frighten me!” the only speaking black-robed figure remained composed, unperturbed by the events.

”I’m not trying to frighten you, but to show you my method of obtaining information.” Kuyi Tulan said, opening his hand, generating a warmth from his palm.

The attendant’s eyes nearly popped out as the black-robed figures, bound by ropes, began to cough up small, irregular yellow balls resembling fruit cores...

Does a person also have a core? The attendant pondered, confused by the unfamiliar sight, accustomed to violent, bloody ordeals, unlike this eerily quiet yet penetrating scene...

Kuyi Tulan gestured at the floating yellow balls, attracting them toward him...

”You!”

”Do you understand now?” Kuyi Tulan placed the balls into a container that materialized, his mastery of Alchemy apparent, as the container disappeared as part of him again.

The attendant was fixated, witnessing the clash of masters—no, the performance of a master—the black-robed figures were imposing, yet powerless to retaliate, utterly at Kuyi Tulan’s mercy!

No wonder he, a mere tavern attendant, could witness the grandeur of a master akin to having luck. Moreover, he was safe—masters are masters, with the ability to subdue without threat.

Though the words of the black-robed figures were incomprehensible to him, the attendant understood that the tavern was within Chief Kuyi Tulan’s grasp, leaving others voiceless.

”You, a dignified Alchemy Chief, also covet the Dark Arts?”

”Anyone may judge me, but not you—Dark Arts? Haha, it’s merely a principle of Spirit Power manipulation; how could you hope to obscure it simply with naming?”

”You will descend to Hell and never reach the Eternal Tranquility Realm.” The black-robed figure shouted vehemently.

”I will uncover all the secrets you Black Crows hide; I’ll take your Spirit Cores, and your shells will become worthless. If any of you return, inform Willem that the Alchemy Workshop will repay him for his deeds on Guru Mountain.”

With that, Kuyi Tulan clenched his fist again, bones cracking as their groans became whimpers, the black-robed figures frothing at the mouth, soon lapsing into unconsciousness.

The tavern fell silent.

Thud, thud, thud, thud—Kuyi Tulan poured the crimson liquid into the glass cup, the transformation astonishing the attendant, who knew he had initially given Kuyi Tulan a low-grade fruit wine, certainly not crimson, but should be a murky brown!

”Hey, don’t gape so much,” Kuyi Tulan beckoned to the attendant, ”take this drink to the gentleman in the corner.”

”Huh?” The attendant was perplexed—there was no one there! Yet, considering recent events, he obediently delivered the drink.

”Reveal yourself. No need for stealth. What’s the Dark Cabinet doing skulking around?” Kuyi Tulan spoke indifferently.

”Ho ho, that’s how we Hunters always are, not so stealthy,” a figure appeared in the corner, drinking the cup’s contents, ”Excellent wine, they say the Chief of the Alchemy Workshop is an extravagant connoisseur, and meeting him today proves true—turning low-grade wine into high-class Guba Rum, transforming the ordinary into extraordinary indeed!”

”No need for flattery, explain your intentions—does the Dark Cabinet also seek a share?” Kuyi Tulan asked.

”Walls have ears, secrets can’t remain hidden.” The figure in the corner replied.

”Who’d imagine the Dark Cabinet becoming so self-serving—the presumed pure stream of the continent,” Kuyi Tulan mused.