Chapter 55: Reunion

Under the cover of night, Liuchou, clad in the uniform of the Jiupai Guard, stood at the prison entrance, observing the building that felt strangely familiar. Unlike the prisons in Zheng City, this facility was not intended for monsters, so the procedures were simpler, yet the number of guards was several times greater.

The guards at the gate respectfully took the identification pass from Liuchou, glanced at it briefly, and returned it with both hands—a necessary formality for entering the prison, which even a high-ranking official could not bypass.

The air blowing from the cells carried a heavy, putrid stench. Yet, amidst this faint odor, Liuchou sensed a hidden sharpness of blood and killing intent. It was clear that traps had been set within; this was expected. It was a gamble, but one worth taking.

*No need to deceive gods or ghosts, just need to survive today...*

Liuchou slowly tucked the pass into his belt and stepped inside, his expression blank, his pace calm and steady. With a heavy clatter, the massive iron-reinforced wooden gate slammed shut behind him, plunging the corridor back into the dim, flickering candlelight.

He moved inward. From the memories of the Jiupai Guard, he knew the captured demon was held in the deepest cell. He had never seen the demon's face, and in all of West City, only the Hunting West King knew its true identity. Whether the prisoner was real or a decoy was something Liuchou would have to judge for himself.

It did not matter. Liuchou had already decided: he would strike only once. Regardless of whether it was the right target or not, he would retreat immediately without hesitation.

His footsteps were rhythmic and steady. Along the way, he felt multiple gazes fixed upon him—from neighboring cells, from peepholes in dark rooms, and from the vaulted ceiling of the corridor. Some gazes carried a faint, murderous chill. Silently, Liuchou twitched his ears, memorizing the sounds of the sources and counting them in his mind.

One spot in particular, where the breathing was so faint it was nearly nonexistent, caught his subconscious attention. If there was a special trap here, this was surely it: a hidden master.

Thanks to his disguise, the journey was uneventful. Liuchou successfully reached the deepest part of the prison and stopped before an iron door.

There was a faint sound from within. The occupant had sensed someone approaching, stood up, and moved to the door, holding their breath as if waiting for something.

It was the perfect opportunity. Liuchou believed the power of his thousand-pound bolt was enough to pierce the door and run the demon behind it through. He flicked his wrist, and a hand crossbow appeared silently in his grip. He tilted it slightly, the tip of the bolt stopping three inches from the door. His finger rested on the trigger; with a light touch, the bolt would fly, claiming a life.

Everything seemed casual, but in reality, his entire body was coiled. At the slightest sign of trouble, he would switch from the crossbow to his staff and fight his way out. Using the faint sounds, he mapped out the target's position in his mind, shifted the bolt down by half an inch, and tightened his finger—

Suddenly, a voice came from within—very soft, but hauntingly familiar:

"Who sent you to kill me?"

The person inside had sensed the killing intent radiating from Liuchou and, from the silence, guessed his purpose. For some reason, they did not scream, but instead asked this simple question.

To Liuchou, the weight of those words was greater than any cry for help. The familiarity made his body stiffen, and he immediately released his finger from the trigger.

He did not know many people in this world, and clearly, the owner of this voice was one of them.

The person inside did not know Liuchou's intentions. After waiting a moment without a reply, they continued: "I know you can't be one of the Hunting West King's men, because he wouldn't let me die. And you aren't sent by the Great Zhou royalty—bloodline inheritance doesn't work that way... Are you here to kill me because of a personal grudge against the Hunting West King?"

Liuchou listened, but the content barely registered. By the time the person spoke the second time, he had already identified them from his memories: a flat-chested, short-haired, capable, slightly tomboyish—but actually female—demon.

Qingmei.

Everything else she said was naturally ignored.

It was her!

A flood of memories surged through Liuchou’s mind—the affairs of Ghost Valley, their shared past—plunging him into a sea of conflict from which he could not extricate himself.

Liuchou was ruthless, cold-blooded, utilitarian, and sometimes even despicable. Not just in this world, but in his previous life, he had betrayed everything called kindness and humanity. Yet, there was one thing he had never forsaken, a treasure kept deep in his heart.

That was affection. It was the only spark of humanity in a life that had abandoned it, and the only light of "humanity" in a life now submerged in demonic nature.

He had saved Ban Nu because of friendship; he had joined forces with Moyun because of friendship; and tonight, he had not left Guan Lan behind as a scapegoat, but instead had him create a distraction in the market—all because of friendship!

Now that Qingmei was before him, a conflict tore through Liuchou’s heart. He was paralyzed. On one side lay the path to becoming a master of the Tianshan Escape; on the other, becoming its enemy—perhaps even an enemy of the entire human race—and being pushed entirely to the side of the monsters.

For a moment, Liuchou could not choose.

Outside the cell, silence stretched on, longer than before. Finally, Qingmei’s patience wore thin. She spoke a third time, her tone devoid of its former calm, replaced by anger and frustration:

"If you're going to kill me, do it! If you're going to ask something, speak! What do you want? Are you waiting for me to cook you a meal?"

At these words, Liuchou finally spoke, his voice low and long:

"No need for a meal! I just want to get some meat from you—it smells so good!"

A low gasp echoed from the cell, followed by Qingmei’s suppressed, yet joy-filled voice: "Liuchou?"

"Yes. I’m here to save you," Liuchou took a deep breath. Having made his decision, he would act decisively. "Step back. I’m getting you out."

"You... alright!" Qingmei stepped quickly away from the door. Liuchou flicked his wrist, revealing his iron staff, and retrieved a long sword he had stored in his internal realm, tossing it at his own feet.

He jammed the staff into the gap of the prison door and pried. The gate groaned and cracked open. A fair-skinned figure flashed out. Though disheveled and dirty, Liuchou still recognized the familiar silhouette in that flash of white.

Though only a short time had passed, Qingmei seemed to have changed; she looked less like a tomboy compared to their days in Ghost Valley, possessing more feminine traits.

Yet, her chest remained as flat as ever.

"Liuchou!" Qingmei whispered. Her face was weary, but her eyes shone with uncontrollable excitement and joy. She stepped forward, but Liuchou used his tail to flick the sword from the ground into her hand.

"We'll talk once we're out!"

From prying the door to releasing Qingmei, only a few seconds had passed. Before the hidden sentries could process the noise, the two were already sprinting down the corridor. Soon, shouts erupted throughout the prison as doors flew open and armored guards poured out.

But before Liuchou’s iron staff, even the elite were nothing more than fodder.

A medium-built man appeared in front of Liuchou, standing nonchalantly with his hands behind his back. He held a pair of twin rings, standing as straight as a spear. His posture was not that of a combatant, but of a man waiting for an old friend.

Liuchou’s pupils contracted. He remembered this specific cell—this was the hidden master. Liuchou accelerated instantly, his staff striking like a dragon, aiming straight for the man’s chest.

A faint, sharp crackle in the air warned him: the enemy’s speed exceeded his expectations. This was not the Jiupai Guard he had seen before, but someone else entirely.

The wind howled. The man’s body swayed like a tree being felled, dodging to the side while his twin rings swept low toward Liuchou’s ankles like lightning. The movements were eerie, weightless, and incredibly fast, revealing a wealth of combat experience.

Liuchou did not slow down or evade; he accelerated further. *Crunch.* The twin rings bit into his leg, sinking half an inch, but simultaneously, his iron staff slammed into the man with thunderous force. With a dull boom, the man was driven into the stone floor, which shattered and flew as his body twisted at an unnatural angle.

The force was so great that the massive stones reinforcing the prison shifted, spider-webbing with cracks.

Trading injury for a kill—Liuchou had used his own rugged body to take the blow and deliver a fatal strike to the hidden master, nearly killing him in one hit!

The man had never expected such ferocity. But even more unexpected was Liuchou pulling an object from his robes, chewing it, and swallowing. He then leaned down to pull the rings from his own leg. The last thing the master saw was the bloody wound on Liuchou’s leg closing and fading until all traces vanished.

This was no time to hide his strength. Liuchou had swallowed a spirit pill he had prepared in advance to mend his injuries.

Qingmei, who had been following close behind, rushed up, sword in hand, and pierced the man’s eye socket, the blade exiting through the back of his skull. He was dead instantly.

Objectively, the master was no weakling; he could have fought a seventh-rank demon to a draw. He was only killed so easily because Liuchou was not a typical seventh-rank demon, and with the spirit pill acting as his insurance, he could afford to trade injury for death. The fight ended in a single exchange.

To the onlookers, however, it was a display of terrifying, indomitable strength. Everyone was stunned, frozen in place. The frantic cries of "Kill him!" died down, replaced by a stunned silence as they watched the pair burst from the prison, vanishing like the wind.

Only then did a loud boom erupt outside. A signal rocket was fired into the sky, exploding in a crimson bloom!

A signal rocket—the sign of an enemy attack.

But fired at this moment, it had only one purpose:

To notify the Hunting West King that someone was breaking out of prison!