Beyond the Timescape

Chapter 55: The Strange Captain

Sensing that the two disciples guarding the entrance were only at the sixth level of Qi Condensation, Xu Qing relaxed. He ran a quick mental calculus; he could kill them both if necessary. The realization settled his nerves.

The young male guard caught Xu Qing’s gaze. He instinctively rubbed his neck, his expression turning grave. He sensed this newcomer was cut from a different, far sharper cloth than the usual recruits.

The female cultivator beside him noticed it too. Her eyes narrowed with interest. She licked her lips and turned to her partner.

“Watch the door. I’ll take the little Junior Brother inside.” She offered Xu Qing a sweet, practiced smile. “Follow me, Junior Brother.”

Xu Qing nodded his thanks.

The young man at the gate watched them go, shaking his head. “That flirt. Looking for a new toy already? Still, that kid… he’s different. But in the Homicide Department, being ‘different’ doesn’t guarantee you’ll survive three months.”

Inside the compound, Xu Qing maintained a calculated distance from his guide as they navigated the expansive courtyard of the Homicide Department. Everyone he saw wore the same gray Daoist robes.

Their cultivation bases were high—none lower than the fifth or sixth level of Qi Condensation, with several at the seventh or eighth. Yet, there was no uniformity to their demeanor. Some looked ice-cold, others deceptively gentle. A few reeked of fresh blood, while others carried mundane groceries as if returning from a pleasant morning at the market.

There was no camaraderie. Every disciple gave the others a wide berth, actively repelling any attempts at closeness.

Xu Qing observed them in silence. His eyes automatically swept across the neck of every passing cultivator, his brain rapidly assessing their combat power and his own odds of severing their arteries.

It was pure instinct.

His vigilance spiked. He identified several individuals who would be extremely difficult to kill, and a few who radiated a profound, lethal threat. Simultaneously, he mapped the architectural layout of the Homicide Department, memorizing escape routes and choke points.

Suddenly, the woman ahead stopped and stepped backward, closing the distance between them with a light giggle.

“Little Junior Brother, why are you so obsessed with looking at people’s necks?”

As she spoke, she drifted to Xu Qing’s side, her right hand reaching out to playfully tap his chest.

In the next microsecond, her expression shattered. She violently threw herself backward, her hand diving into her robes to pull out several antidotes, which she swallowed dry. She looked up at Xu Qing, her playful demeanor replaced by grim caution.

“I don’t like people getting close to me,” Xu Qing said, his voice flat, his eyes dead.

The woman stared at him deeply, then nodded, completely abandoning her flirtatious agenda. She realized the newcomer was a coiled viper.

“Interesting. A paranoid freak like you might actually live a long time in the Homicide Department.”

She resumed leading the way. This time, Xu Qing didn’t have to enforce the distance; she actively stayed several paces ahead of him, her mouth firmly shut.

They navigated past seven or eight pavilions and down several winding paths before arriving at a massive, imposing hall. The interior was pitch black, swallowing the ambient sunlight at the threshold.

“Department Head. A new recruit is here to report. Name: Xu Qing.”

Her voice was formal and loud. After speaking, she bowed her head and froze in place like a statue.

Xu Qing mirrored her stance, his expression grave.

A long moment passed. Then, deep within the obsidian gloom of the hall, two bright lanterns ignited.

They were eyes.

The gaze lanced through the darkness, locking onto Xu Qing.

Xu Qing’s body seized. A crushing, suffocating Pressure slammed down on his shoulders, carrying the physical weight of an apex predator. It felt as if a primordial beast was coiled in the shadows, waiting to snap him in half.

The hair on Xu Qing’s arms stood on end. His breathing turned shallow and rapid. His right hand twitched toward his thigh, his knees bending slightly in preparation for a desperate evasion.

Fortunately, the gaze vanished as quickly as it had appeared. But before Xu Qing could exhale, a massive, invisible force coiled around the token in his left hand and ripped it from his grasp.

Whoosh! The token shot into the dark hall. The raw kinetic power of the snatch terrified Xu Qing; if that telekinetic grip had targeted his throat instead of the wood, he would have been dragged into the abyss without resistance.

Cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

Finally, a voice echoing with absolute indifference drifted from the shadows.

“Report to the Sixth Squad of the Xuan Division.”

Two objects exploded out of the darkness like cannonballs—his identity token and a new department badge.

Xu Qing’s eyes tracked the blur. He snapped his hand up, catching them mid-air. The kinetic feedback traveled up his arm and slammed into his torso, forcing his upper body to sway violently to absorb the shock.

But his feet remained rooted to the stone. He didn’t take a single step back.

In the dark hall, the eyes briefly flared with light once more, observing his reaction in silence before closing for good.

Beside him, Xu Yanhong watched Xu Qing absorb the impact. Her pupils shrank.

“He has the paranoia of a Sect veteran and the physical strength to match…” she thought. She had planned to ditch him after the handoff, but she quickly revised her strategy. A monster like this was worth networking with.

“Junior Brother Xu Qing,” she said warmly, “I know where the Sixth Squad is. I’ll escort you.” She gestured toward the badge in his hand.

Xu Qing took a deep breath, pinned the badge to his robe, bowed deeply toward the dark hall, and then thanked her.

He was young, but years of surviving the slums had made him an expert in reading human nature. He easily deduced the calculated pragmatism behind her sudden shift in attitude.

He was right. As they walked, she took the initiative to properly introduce herself.

“Junior Brother, I am Xu Yanhong. I serve in the Ninth Squad of the Earth Division. It was a stroke of fate that I drew gate duty today.”

She acted as a tour guide, enthusiastically pointing out the various administrative buildings and logistical hubs.

“That’s one of the Deputy Department Head’s offices. There’s another over there.”

“Senior Sister Xu, how many Deputy Department Heads are there?” Xu Qing asked, filing the information away.

“One Department Head, four Deputies. They govern the four divisions: Heaven, Earth, Xuan, and Huang. Each division commands nine patrol squads. You’ve been assigned to Xuan-Six.”

She smiled. “You drew a good hand. The Deputy Head of the Xuan Division is a fanatic who spends years in Secluded Cultivation. He’s basically a ghost. You won’t have upper management breathing down your neck.”

Soon, they arrived at the Xuan Division compound in the southwest sector. It comprised over a dozen austere buildings, bustling with gray-robed cultivators moving with grim purpose.

Sect politics clearly dictated strict jurisdictional boundaries. Xu Yanhong refused to step past the threshold. She exchanged sound-transmission imprints with Xu Qing, bid him a warm farewell, and left.

Inside the compound, Xu Qing finally met the captain of the Sixth Squad.

It was the same young man he had encountered on the street last night—the one whose casual aura had triggered Xu Qing’s internal alarm bells. The coincidence put Xu Qing immediately on edge.

The young man spotted Xu Qing, his eyes lingering on the boy’s face for a moment before recognition dawned. However, he didn’t look surprised to see him.

Xu Qing analyzed the reaction and subtly took half a step back.

“I pulled strings with the Department Head this morning to get you assigned to my squad,” the Captain said smoothly, skipping the pleasantries. “Though I admit, you look a lot different without a layer of blood and grime on your face.”

“Greetings, Captain,” Xu Qing said softly, his guard fully raised.

“Not surprised?” the Captain asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I am surprised,” Xu Qing nodded.

“If you’re surprised, why does your face look like a brick wall?”

Xu Qing wasn’t great at social interaction, but he conceded the point. He forced his facial muscles to contract, manufacturing a stilted look of mild shock.

“…”

The Captain stared at him for a long moment before sighing.

“I requested you because my squad took heavy casualties this week. Several men died. We’re short-handed, and our upcoming quota is brutal.” He paused, watching Xu Qing for a reaction.

Xu Qing’s heart dropped at the casualty report, but he didn’t ask questions. He just stared back, waiting for the rest of the briefing.

The Captain smiled, clearly satisfied with the stoicism.

“Good. You’re already better than the last batch of fresh meat. Since you don’t know the layout, I’m taking you on a patrol. I’ll explain how the Homicide Department actually operates.”

The Captain didn’t bother introducing Xu Qing to the rest of the squad. He simply turned on his heel and marched out of the compound, leading Xu Qing into the bustling streets of the main city.

As they walked, the Captain greeted various shopkeepers with a warm, neighborly smile. But Xu Qing remembered the feral glint in the man’s eyes from the night before. The Captain was a predator wearing a friendly mask. Xu Qing maintained a strict three-pace distance.

He analyzed the Captain’s spiritual fluctuations. Ninth or tenth level of Qi Condensation. A disciple at that stage in the Seven Blood Eyes possessed a combat lethality that far eclipsed Xu Qing’s current limits.

“Stop scowling at everyone,” the Captain advised without looking back. “If you want to survive here, you need to learn how to wear two faces. The hardass routine will get you killed.”

Xu Qing pondered the advice. It made tactical sense. He tried to soften his expression, but seven years of treating every living thing as a potential threat made the adjustment incredibly difficult.

“Whatever. You’ll figure it out, or you’ll die.” The Captain chuckled helplessly. He stopped at a fruit stall and bought several apples, keeping them all for himself.

Xu Qing stepped up to the vendor and bought two of his own.

“Let’s talk job description,” the Captain said, tossing two Spirit Coins to a mortal beggar huddled in an alleyway. The beggar bowed profusely. “The Seventh Peak’s Homicide Department has one mandate, and one mandate only: we kill people.”

Xu Qing glanced at the beggar, noting he had no cultivation base, and processed the Captain’s words. “We kill criminals?”

The Captain took a massive bite of his apple, chewing loudly. He looked utterly relaxed.

“The Patrol Department handles the boring stuff. They protect the mortal civilians from petty disciples and local gangs so the mortals can keep earning money to pay their residency taxes. It keeps the economy flowing. But when the Patrol Department runs into something they can’t handle—a rabid outlaw, a serial killer, a rogue cultivator who crosses the line—they call us.”

“Our targets are exclusively high-risk,” the Captain continued. “The mortality rate is staggering. I don’t even know how many rosters the Sixth Squad has burned through. Some die on the job; some get assassinated in their sleep for revenge. Keep your head on a swivel.”

“But the perks are excellent. And we are the only department authorized to cash in bounties on wanted criminals.” He took another bite of his apple.

Xu Qing looked at the apple in his own hand. “After the target is dead, who gets their loot?”

“Hmm?” The Captain stopped and turned around, truly looking at Xu Qing for the first time. A genuine grin broke across his face.

“I like you. You’re the first rookie to ask about the profit margins before asking about the danger. The rules are simple. If you take down a target solo, the loot is yours. If it’s a squad op, the dividends are distributed evenly.”

“Now, a quick lesson on who not to kill.” The Captain pointed down the street.

A young man wearing a pristine, light-purple Daoist robe was strolling arrogantly through the crowd. The pedestrians parted like the Red Sea, bowing their heads in deep reverence. Even the local Patrol disciples stopped to offer respectful salutes. The young man looked like a deity gracing the mortals with his presence.

Xu Qing narrowed his eyes.

“Memorize this,” the Captain warned. “In this city, you never provoke anyone wearing a dark-colored Daoist robe, and you never provoke anyone wearing light purple. The dark robes are Foundation Establishment Seniors who live up on the mountain. They could crush you with a thought. The light purple robes are the Sect’s Core Disciples. They aren’t Foundation Establishment yet, but they have elite backing and unlimited resources.”

“If a hundred gray-robed grunts like us die, the Sect doesn’t blink. If one Core Disciple gets a papercut, it’s a full-blown crisis.”

Xu Qing looked up at the seven towering peaks of the sect that dominated the skyline.

“Makes you jealous, right?” The Captain laughed, chewing his apple. “So stay alive. Cultivate. The day you reach Foundation Establishment, those Core Disciples will be the ones bowing to you.”

“One last piece of advice. The Sect’s official policy strictly forbids us gray-robes from murdering each other. Officially. So, if you have to kill a colleague, you need to learn how to handle the paperwork. The cleanest method is to steal their Contribution Points and Spirit Stones, zero out their identity token, and let the city’s defensive Formation do the dirty work…”

The Captain coughed, gesturing with his chin toward a nearby intersection. “Like that guy.”

Xu Qing looked. A gray-robed youth was lying in the gutter, bleeding out. His mouth had been pulverized, his jaw unhinged, and all four of his limbs were shattered. He couldn’t speak, scream, or crawl. He just lay there, his eyes burning with helpless, agonizing despair.

Resting on his shattered chest was his identity token. The digital balance displayed a stark zero.

As Xu Qing watched, the youth’s authorized residency time expired.

A beam of absolute, pitch-black energy descended from the sky. The youth convulsed violently for a split second before his body and soul were instantly annihilated, rendered into a pile of fine gray ash. It was as if his very existence had been erased from reality.

Xu Qing’s eyes widened. The surrounding pedestrians didn’t even break their stride, stepping over the ashes with cold indifference.

“That idiot made a habit of murdering fellow disciples for their loot,” the Captain said cheerfully. “Someone finally got tired of his shit and zeroed him out. Standard operating procedure.”

The Captain opened his mouth to continue, but suddenly paused. His eyes locked onto a dark, narrow alleyway wedged between two bustling storefronts.

Xu Qing snapped his head in the same direction. He felt it too—a sharp, erratic spike of Mutagen.

“They’re getting bold, doing this in broad daylight,” the Captain sighed.

“Wait here a second, Junior Brother.”

The Captain casually strolled into the pitch-black alley, still munching on his apple.

Xu Qing watched the entrance, his hand hovering near his dagger.

Ten seconds later, the Captain strolled back out. He swallowed the last bite of his apple and tossed the core into the street. A fresh, metallic scent of blood radiated from his clothes.

“Some idiot tried to transplant a mutant beast organ to boost his cultivation, but his body rejected it. He mutated into a monster,” the Captain explained with a completely harmless, gentle smile. “Word of advice: don’t take that shortcut. The power spike is fast, but the side effects are terminal.”

Xu Qing remained silent. The scavenger he had killed last night had utilized the exact same horrific surgery. Until then, Xu Qing hadn’t even known such a grotesque procedure was possible.

He nodded, finally taking a bite of his own apple. It was crisp and incredibly sweet.

They continued their patrol, munching on their fruit. The Captain ate quickly; Xu Qing ate with methodical slowness.

Eventually, the Captain finished his apple and began glancing pointedly at the untouched second apple in Xu Qing’s other hand.

Xu Qing met his gaze, raised his half-eaten apple, and took another slow bite.

The Captain coughed, rubbed his nose, and pulled an orange out of his pocket, peeling it with exaggerated focus.

“Alright, let’s talk current operations,” the Captain said around a mouthful of citrus. “Our primary target right now is the remnants of an organization called Night Dove.”

“Night Dove?” Xu Qing asked.

“They’re a massive, shadowy syndicate operating across the South Phoenix Continent. They specialize in human trafficking—specifically, kidnapping children and rogue cultivators to sell as human incubators, or ‘Treasure Nurturers.’ Usually, they keep their filthy business outside our borders. But recently, they’ve started operating inside the Seven Blood Eyes’ territory. It’s causing panic in the mortal sectors.”

“Panic means a drop in commerce. A drop in commerce means less tax revenue. And when revenue drops, the big shots on the mountain get very unhappy.”

“You saw the aftermath last night. Our Department Head personally executed one of their regional leaders. Now, the Homicide Departments across all seven districts have been mobilized to hunt down the stragglers and exterminate them down to the roots.”

A cold, lethal light flashed in Xu Qing’s eyes. He instantly recognized the modus operandi of the old slaver he had killed in the ruined city. He slowly narrowed his eyes and gave a subtle nod.

The Captain was sharp. He caught the micro-expression and deduced that Xu Qing had a personal history with the syndicate, but he didn’t press the issue. He simply continued the tour, pointing out strategic chokepoints and explaining patrol routes.

As they walked, Xu Qing spotted a ragged child begging near a stall. Remembering the Captain’s earlier “charity,” Xu Qing tossed the kid a Spirit Coin.

“Oh?” The Captain raised an eyebrow, a mocking smile on his face. “Is that one of your informants too?”

Xu Qing froze. He realized he had just tipped a random beggar for no reason. He didn’t say a word, but he felt profoundly, deeply stupid.

As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, painting the sky in bruised purples and reds, they arrived at the bustling harbor district.

Mountains of crated goods and shipping containers dominated the docks. From behind a massive stack of timber, a dull, honest-sounding voice drifted over.

“Say one more word, and I will literally rip your mouth off your face.”

Xu Qing looked over. Crouched beside the crates was a middle-aged Seventh Peak disciple. He looked incredibly ordinary, exuding the aura of a tired, overworked, and perfectly harmless dockworker.

He was the one who had spoken.

Standing opposite him was a wealthy, silk-robed merchant whose face was purple with outrage. They were clearly in the middle of a heated dispute.

“Who are you planning to mutilate today, Zhang San?” the Captain called out. He tossed his orange peel aside, pulled a pear from his robe, took a massive bite, and strolled over.

The wealthy merchant paled at the sight of the Homicide Captain’s badge and hastily scurried away.

The middle-aged disciple, Zhang San, looked up and offered the Captain a goofy, honest grin. He then turned and offered the same dopey smile to Xu Qing.

“This is our newest recruit, Xu Qing,” the Captain introduced. He then pointed at the unremarkable dockworker.

“This is Zhang San. He used to run with the Homicide Department, but he got scared of dying, so he transferred to the Logistics and Transport Division. Don’t let the ‘simple country boy’ routine fool you. If you piled up the corpses of all the pirates and rogue cultivators he’s butchered…”

The Captain gestured broadly to the towering mountains of cargo around them. “…they would easily fill this entire dock.”

Xu Qing’s internal alarms screamed. He stared at Zhang San. What terrified Xu Qing wasn’t the kill count; it was the fact that he couldn’t sense any significant spiritual pressure radiating from the man. If the Captain wasn’t lying, then Zhang San was an apex predator masquerading as a sheep.

“Oh, stop it, Captain. It’s all exaggerated rumors,” Zhang San said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly and maintaining his dopey grin. “I just dealt with a few petty thieves. Honestly, it still weighs heavily on my conscience.”

Xu Qing remained utterly silent. He stared into Zhang San’s eyes and saw absolutely zero trace of human mercy.

“Don’t listen to his nonsense, Junior Brother Xu Qing,” Zhang San laughed. He rummaged through his pockets and tossed a carved beast bone to Xu Qing.

“A little something to welcome you to the meat grinder.”