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Southern District, evening, Lower City market.
“It’s the Skeleton Gang! The Skeleton Gang is here!”
As a terrified cry erupted from the crowd, the customers standing before the stalls immediately scattered in every direction.
Beneath the multicolored neon lights, several burly men with bare torsos and bodies covered in metallic implants strode over from the distance. Leading them was a man over three meters tall whose entire face was covered in black metal. The group casually shoved aside any stalls blocking their path and marched toward a young man standing in front of a synthetic food stall.
The young man had barely turned to flee when one of the burly men grabbed him by the hair and slammed his face down onto the table.
The young man took a vicious slap across the face and screamed. The modified arm possessed such tremendous strength that several of his teeth were knocked out in a single blow.
W eb̄ n.ov ĕl̊ Еn ům а̀
One of the young man’s front teeth rolled all the way behind a fried-skewer stall before coming to a stop beside Mo Wendao’s foot.
Without even raising his head, Mo Wendao lowered five meat skewers into the oil to fry, completely ignoring the young man’s pleading gaze.
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Pinned against the table, the young man cried out, “Give me a few more days! I swear I’ll get the drugs!”
Plenty of people stood around watching, but not a single one dared step forward to stop them.
“Siwan, I thought highly enough of you to entrust you with a little job. And what did you do? Not only did you screw it up, you even tried to smuggle your little sister out?”
The young man’s face turned ashen. “I didn’t... Lila, she...”
Wе̇b̃.nоv е̃l̊ E n̂ ū m ä
“You didn’t?”
The burly man sneered and smashed a heavy fist into the back of Siwan’s head. The young man instantly went limp and lost consciousness.
Apparently finding this boring, the man suddenly turned his head. His red cybernetic eye locked onto Mo Wendao at the fried-skewer stall, and he strode over with a vicious grin. “Boss, you two close?”
Mo Wendao looked up and found himself staring directly into the man’s glaring red cybernetic eye. The man was chewing through the wooden skewer along with the meat using shark-like alloy teeth before swallowing the whole thing.
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“Not close. Not close at all.”
Mo Wendao put on an amiable smile, packed the freshly fried skewers into a disposable food container, and handed it to the man. “My treat today. Consider it a token of respect.”
Ẁ ѐ b̀ n̄o̊.v̈ e l Е̊ n̈u ṁ а
The man was momentarily taken aback as he accepted the container, but when the notification for a transfer of 100 watts sounded, his tone immediately turned cold. “One hundred? You paid one hundred before, and you still think you can pay one hundred now? What, you think I’m the same kind of trash as the bastards who used to run this place? Five hundred! By tomorrow at the latest. Not a single watt less!”
Mo Wendao promptly transferred another 400, and only then did the man’s mood improve.
The vendors immediately began whispering among themselves.
“Five hundred watts? It went up fivefold just like that...?”
“Didn’t we just pay? Are they trying to leave us no way to survive?”
“Can’t they give us a few more days?”
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As the man’s gaze swept across the crowd, every complaint instantly vanished. No one dared voice another objection.
The man snorted coldly, grabbed the unconscious Siwan, and dragged him out of the market in full view of everyone.
“Take care.”
Mo Wendao called after them. Only when every member of the Skeleton Gang had left did a cold glint flash through his eyes.
He knew the Skeleton Gang’s background very well. Not long ago, these people had somehow gotten their hands on a military-grade cybernetic implant, and with only seven or eight members, they had turned themselves into the local tyrants of the neighborhood.
But... as fellow members of the demonic path, Mo Wendao looked down most upon this sort of nouveau riche behavior. Charging 500 watts was plainly killing the goose that laid the golden eggs. There was no strategy to it whatsoever. Even among the demonic path, these people were the lowest of the low.
Еn ú m̂ а . î d
He had never intended to get involved in gang conflicts, but this new protection fee clearly had no intention of leaving a fellow demonic cultivator like him any way to survive.
Even more laughably, the Skeleton Gang was trying to stick its hands into the drug business of the great powers of the demonic path. If they really drew one of those demonic giants into the Lower City, another bloody storm was bound to erupt.
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During their brief conversation, Mo Wendao had already observed that the man’s glabella was shrouded in darkness. The signs of death were upon him.
Sigh. What a damned world! Once again, it was forcing fellow disciples of the demonic path to slaughter one another.
Mo Wendao sighed helplessly.
After the Skeleton Gang swaggered away, the stall owners had completely lost the will to continue doing business. Every one of them looked deathly pale as they gathered to discuss what to do. Someone suggested, “Why don’t we all chip in and hire some Enforcers to deal with this?”
Ė nǔm̈ а̌ .і̀ ḋ
“Are you trying to get us killed? The Skeleton Gang has made this much trouble lately, and the Enforcers haven’t shown their faces once. You think they’ll offend the Skeleton Gang for a bunch of lousy street vendors like us?”
Another elderly man repeatedly shook his head. “For all we know, they’re working together.”
“Worst comes to worst, we find another line of work. Any of you know somewhere hiring?”
“If there’s really no other choice, we could volunteer for drug trials... I heard the corporations pay pretty well.”
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Mo Wendao had no interest in listening to their complaints. He pushed his cart back to his residence.
He unlocked the door with his fingerprint. The spiritual power mark he had left in the gap of the door had not dissipated. He checked the windows next, and the formation on the windowsill was still intact as well.
È n u ṁ а̇
Mo Wendao returned to his bedroom and took a box out from beneath the bed. Inside lay a sharp sword gleaming with an icy, sinister light. Beside it was a holographic mask used to conceal both appearance and aura.
With a thought, the cold sword rose into the air and transformed into a streak of silver light, disappearing into his sleeve in the blink of an eye.
He was not a native of District 52. This was Mo Wendao’s second transmigration.
In his previous life, he had transmigrated into an immortal sect known as the Azure Cloud Sect. He had rigidly adhered to the righteous path, only to be ambushed and killed by his master and martial uncle working together.
Putting on a righteous facade while murdering one’s own disciple. Such behavior clearly belonged to the demonic path.
At the moment of his death, he finally attained enlightenment and realized that the Azure Cloud Sect had been a demonic sect all along.
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Fortunately... Heaven never bars every road. In this life, he had learned from the mistakes of his previous one. He was determined to turn over a new leaf and strive to become an outstanding member of the demonic path.
Mo Wendao changed into a different outfit, put on his mask, and silently vanished into the night.
The Skeleton Gang’s territory was not difficult to find. These people acted with extraordinary arrogance. They had seized a nightclub and made it their base, blasting death rock without pause whenever night fell. The tearing melodies could be heard from an entire street away, along with the faint scent of blood drifting through the air.
The source of that bloody smell was the human heads hanging from ropes like wind chimes in front of the nightclub. During the gang wars, the Skeleton Gang’s boss had killed his rivals and displayed their heads outside the club as trophies. The blood on them had long since dried, while maggots squirmed through the rotting flesh.
The two Skeleton Gang members guarding the entrance saw Mo Wendao approaching and aggressively stepped forward to confront him.
“Don’t go looking for death. This is Skeleton Gang territory...”
En ũ ṁа
Their warning abruptly stopped. The two men stood frozen in place as though struck by a paralysis spell. Mo Wendao politely cupped his fists toward them and explained, “Greetings, fellow Daoists. I heard that you happened to obtain a magical treasure. I found myself terribly envious, so I have come to ask you to hand it over.”
When it came to keeping up appearances, Mo Wendao was highly experienced.
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First and foremost, one had to be polite. Sincerity and friendliness could quickly close the distance between people.
Mo Wendao had retained the etiquette of his previous life. When fellow disciples met, a proper greeting was naturally indispensable.
Unfortunately, his fellow disciples in the Skeleton Gang were rather lacking in manners. The two men still wore furious expressions and gave Mo Wendao no response whatsoever.
They were, after all, at the very bottom of the demonic path’s food chain, so Mo Wendao did not hold it against them. Once the formalities were complete, he simply walked past them and continued toward the nightclub.
Е̃ ń û m̌а̃
As he climbed the steps, two round objects rolled off their bodies and dropped onto the ground. With two dull thuds behind him, there was no longer any movement.
Along the way, Mo Wendao encountered several more Skeleton Gang disciples. He welcomed every one of them and discussed the Dao through the sword, greatly promoting communication between the various branches of the demonic path.
After occupying the nightclub, the Skeleton Gang had converted the underground storage room into a torture chamber. The moment Mo Wendao reached the lower floor, he heard agonized screams. Even the death rock still blasting overhead could not drown them out.
Following the sound, he had walked only a few steps when he saw the Skeleton Gang’s boss emerge from a doorway.
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The burly man froze when he saw Mo Wendao, then asked, “Who are you?”
Mo Wendao cupped his fists in greeting. “Fellow Daoist, forgive the offense.”
Ŵе̌ b̄n̊о̃v̀ ėl Е̇ń ümа̊
(End of Chapter)
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