"Bro, something's off with that dog! My brother-in-law's a cop, and I've seen trained police dogs like this before—they go straight for the throat, more savage than wolves."
"Quit being a wuss! Both of you, get him!"
The gang of thugs looked at each other, not one daring to make a move—like tourists who'd stumbled into a lion pit, suddenly cautious and obedient.
They might've been scared now, but I sure wasn't about to let them off easy. "You're scared now? Where was all that swagger when you were trashing my shop?"
I didn't waste words. I grabbed a beer bottle and charged.
"Just do as I say—a dog, no matter how fierce, is still just an animal!" the tattooed guy barked. He was a street brawler through and through, used to fighting dirty. Snatching up a barstool, he rushed at me. "Get him! Beat his ass!"
But he didn't make it far.
In less than a second, the ferocity on his face turned into pure terror. A blur of yellow fur streaked past me—and the tattooed guy was down.
Those sharp teeth hovered right by his eyeball, hot breath steaming up his face, saliva dripping on his nose. Two pitch-black, soulless eyes stared straight into the tender flesh of his throat.
He gulped. His Adam's apple bobbed. This mutt, scruffier than your average stray, had him frozen like a deer in headlights.
"Damn, that was fast." I crouched beside him, beer bottle still in hand.
CRACK! The bottle slammed into the concrete right by his ear.
"I've got a few questions. Answer right, and you walk. Lie to me—well, I'm sure you can live without one ear."
"I'll talk. I'll talk. But bro, I don't even know you—why're you coming after me?"
"Happy Pinnacle, on Ting Tang Road. Storefront got smashed up. That your handiwork?"
"Yeah. I led the crew."
"Good. Now we're getting somewhere. Who ordered the hit?" The alcohol was long gone from my system. Cool evening wind cut through the haze—I was clear-headed and sharp.
He hesitated. "You don't want to mess with these people. They run half of Jiangcheng."
"Let me guess—Jiangjin Group? Was it Jiang Chen who sent you?"
"We're not even in the same league as Young Master Jiang. The one who paid us was the head of security over at Century Garden—Shi Youfu. Heard he's throwing a birthday bash tonight at Blue Note Bar, got a few girls lined up."
Blue Note Bar. I wasn't going to waste more time on these low-level thugs. "Baiqi, Xiaofeng—let's go."
As I left the night market, I didn't notice the tattooed guy glaring daggers at me. I told Xiaofeng to head back to the shop while Baiqi and I made our way to the Blue Note.
Located on the sleepless street at the heart of Jiangcheng, the whole strip was lined with restaurants, KTVs, and bars, lit up and noisy 24/7.
Blue Note was halfway down the street. Its style leaned industrial—metal fixtures and raw wood tones, dark and suffocating—but packed with trendy young folks.
Of course, the real draw wasn't the decor. It was the mysterious, infamous owner.
I ordered a cold beer and sank into a dark corner. The ear-splitting industrial rock grated on my nerves. Occasionally, a harsh spotlight swept the crowd, briefly flashing over me.
I frowned. I'd never understand why people loved this kind of chaos.
Scanning the room, I didn't spot Shi Youfu. Maybe he was in one of the private rooms.
Then I noticed something odd—a little girl, maybe eight or nine years old, hunched over the bar, quietly doing her homework.
She was dressed like a porcelain doll, calm and quiet, seemingly untouched by the chaos around her.
"Can she really focus in this noise?"
She didn't look up. Didn't even flinch.
"What's your name? Have we met before?" The moment I said it, the bartenders all looked up—suspicious, guarded, like I was some creep.
"Old-school pick-up lines, huh?" A drunk guy staggered by with his girl. He glanced at the kid and shook his head. "Bro, you trying to get yourself locked up? She's, what, eight? Let me be real with you—don't trade your life for three minutes."
I gave him a bitter smile. But I wasn't joking—I really did feel like I'd seen this girl somewhere before. With my line of work, I remember faces. This wasn't just a hunch.
"No pets allowed, sir," a bartender came over, clearly irritated. "Watch your dog."
"I'll finish my drink and go," I replied. I planned to lie low until Shi Youfu showed. Even if I was curious about the girl, I needed to stay discreet.
But just as I stood, someone grabbed my hand—cold, like polished jade.
Startled, I looked down. The girl hadn't said a word, but she held my fingers tightly, pen in one hand, mine in the other.
"What…" I stared, bewildered.
"Bro, you smooth operator!" the drunk guy crowed. "Let her come to you—that's high-level game! I take it all back, you're the real MVP!"
"That's not what this is."
"No need to explain. But heads-up—girls under twelve? That's a mandatory three-year sentence. But hey, shoot your shot, life's short, right?"
"I'll shoot your damn face." I dropped into a seat, the girl still clutching my hand.
The bartender ran off—probably to get backup.
"Hey… have we met before?"
She stayed silent, just held my hand. It was awkward as hell, like I'd wronged her somehow.
Then a sultry voice chimed in behind me. "If you two've met before, how come I, her mother, don't know about it?"
I turned—and felt my heart skip.
The woman approaching was unreal. Seductive, mature, every movement dripping with lethal charm.
A lady cigarette dangled between her fingers, lips bright red and inviting. Her fair neck led down to… a deep blue fox tail tattoo snaking from chest to thigh.
I'd seen beautiful women, but very few could match this one.
"Cat got your tongue?" she said, sliding into the seat beside me. She waved to the bartender, who brought out a Royal Salute, top-shelf stuff.
"This drink's not sold by the glass. But tonight, it's on me." The flame danced above the liquor—fiery and dangerous, like her.
I mimicked her movements, dropping ice into the glass, even though I had no clue what I was doing.
"You are…?"
"You're sitting in my bar. Holding my daughter's hand. And you don't know who I am?" She took a sip, wine swirling between fire and frost.
"…Kisaki Ayaka?" I hazarded. Her Mandarin was so fluent I couldn't be sure.
"Try the drink. It's a new recipe. No other bar's got it."
Yeah, no thanks. Not while holding her daughter's hand, in her bar, with her staring at me.
"It's a misunderstanding. I just… thought your daughter looked familiar."
"Oh? And she just grabs your hand like that because you thought she looked familiar? My daughter doesn't even let me touch her."
Something about her tone set off alarms.
"Sorry. I must've been mistaken. My work… doesn't involve kids her age."
Her eyes narrowed, amused. "Not in real life. But dreams are another matter, aren't they?"
She stood, hips swaying like a siren. "Sakurako, come with me."
Sakurako?
My fingers trembled.
That was the name of the little girl from the New Hu High School livestream—the one who risked herself to block the Yuanchen curse. The ghost girl. And this one looked exactly like her.
"She's a ghost… but this girl is alive."
I gently cupped her cheek. Her expression was blank—but the resemblance was terrifying.
She closed her book and took my hand, trailing after her mother.
Three humans, one dog. We walked into a staff room behind the bar, away from the noise, the envy in everyone's eyes burning a hole in my back. Kisaki Ayaka shut the door behind us.
Kicking off her heels, she sat elegantly on the bed. Every move was a temptation.
"Relax. Don't be so tense."
"Relax?" I wanted to scream, thank god I didn't wear sweatpants today.
"What do you want from me?" I said. "We barely know each other."
"Don't be so formal. If Sakurako likes you, then I like you too. And when I like someone…" Her lips curled as she arched her back, every line of her body a trap. "They can do anything they want. Need me to give you a hint?"