The Haizhou Anomaly Investigation Bureau has an unwritten rule: if you want to live, get in line and follow the sequence’s rules.
On the second day Lu Zhibai waited in line, someone forced a dose of the deadly Forbidden Path potion down his throat.
The corruption entered his belly and became food. The old accounts of the Nightfall came to light and became stepping stones. By day, he is a trainee examiner in the Third Branch, handling case files with his merits recorded in black and white. By night, he is the Gray Crow, collecting debts on the black market and swallowing every last bit for his own gain. One set of achievements, two ledgers, counted twice. Nobody loses.
The sequences are carved into the walls, the rules printed on paper, and the whole city has been standing in line for a hundred years.
Only he turned the words at the end of the line into his own name, one bite at a time.
The lighthouse lights up by itself at midnight. The “Eighth” in the archives is crossed out with fresh ink. Deep in his sea of consciousness, a voice will say only one word.
A hundred years into the age of high martial arts, the rules are strict.
Too bad I’m the exception.
