The days passed as usual. Stirling used the enhanced medicine pack only after he got home each night. He also paired it with the Ever-Green skill for internal and external stimulation. He felt his progress was rapid. Thanks to the Aether and the potion, his skin showed slight keratinization. This was a sign of the first step toward rhino-skin.

  One day during breakfast, Joe Mosley approached Stirling all secret-like and said,

  "Cultivation maniac, I have a secret to tell you."

  Stirling didn't want to respond to Joe Mosley, but the word made him unable to resist. He raised his eyebrows and asked, "What secret?"

  "You live in the Three Rivers District, right? Did you hear about the rumor of external malice nearby?" Joe Mosley whispered.

  "External malice?" Stirling was stunned. After a few days of martial arts training, Stirling gained something valuable. He learned a lot about this world.

  This external malice refers to worshippers from outside, except for Yearning. This means that invaders from other evil sects cultivate and collect malice for worship. Yearning Palace runs Monterey Kingdom and puts pressure on other demon organizations. Yet, Monterey Kingdom is so large that Yearning could not drive away other calamities 100 percent. Then, other cultist groups often collect malice in secret, as seen in Rock Village. Farfield City is a small, remote area. It sometimes faces external Malice incursions, but these are quite rare. To attack in the Yearning Palace's presence takes a lot of skill. And there are only a few powerful calamity sects in Monterey State, and Stirling has heard of them.

  "Which one?" Stirling asked.

  "I heard it was the Pathos Shrine. They disappeared after losing the battle for control of the Monterey Kingdom. Now they're back. Tsk, tsk, a family of three. When people found them, the entire room was full of disgusting hair, like a spider's nest." Joe Mosley shook his head.

  "All hair? Didn't the Night's Watch notice anything ahead?" Stirling frowned; his voice was low.

  Stirling had let his guard down in recent days. Yet, the news Joe Mosley shared today jolted him back to attention. He, Stirling, wasn't on Earth right now, but in this damn crazy world! The scene in Rock Village came back to Stirling. He clenched his right fist, veins bulging.

  "Night Watch? Don't count on these idiots. The murderer ran away long ago. Are you still waiting for them to catch him?" Joe Mosley sneered.

  "Pathos Shrine has bullied us right to our face, and Yearning Palace hasn't reacted?" Stirling was upset.

  "Hey, Farfield City might look like a big city to us, but to Yearning Palace, it's a tiny spot they don't care about."

  "If something didn't happen in the core cities, Yearning Palace wouldn't take it seriously."

  Joe Mosley muttered as he took a bite of meat.

  "Oh, I see." Stirling dazed for a moment before returning to his food.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  ...

  Elsewhere in the inner city, Night Watch building.

  The head, Laborff, grimaced as he examined the file in his hand.

  "Boss, the Pathos Shrine hasn't appeared in this area for a long time. Should we notify the Yearning Palace?" A young man in a cyan uniform nearby asked.

  "That's not the point. I'm curious how these guys got in here." Laborff stroked the brand-new grown stubble on his chin, then put down the file and paced around the room.

  "Tomorrow I'll lead a team armed with malice-bursting beads and go door to door. I can definitely find the rat hole!" the young man gritted his teeth.

  "Pillnar, you and I are both samurai, not worshippers. Sometimes, be aware of your place."

  Laborff glanced up at the young man, then said, "Is Chief Samurai Ince strong? What's his fate now? So, do you think you're stronger than him?"

  Laborff gave the man a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I see you're not reconciled," he said with a sigh, "but once you believe you're stronger than Ince, we can discuss change!"

  With that, Laborff put down the file and walked out of the door. "But I won't ignore this matter. I'm going to report to the magistrate." His voice came from far, low.

  The young man bit his lips tightly as he watched Laborff's back. Since Pillnar joined Night Watch, he had dreamed of the day when the evil stars would be gone. He hoped the Saxon Empire would return to its former prosperity and vitality. But with each passing day, Pillnar grew more desperate. Now, he even doubted whether the Saxon royal family in Central Kingdom could hold out.

  "Is this world destined to become a complete, catastrophic malice sink?" Pillnar muttered to himself, gazing at the rows of massive bookshelves in the office.

  A few moments later, in a wing behind the city government office, a heavyset man reclined in a big, cushioned chair. He squinted while watching the figure bowing before him.

  "My lord, the outer malice within the city came more and more. I fear someone is plotting a conspiracy. I beg you to notify Yearning Palace and cooperate in the investigation." Laborff bowed his head to the figure above him.

  The figure above remained silent, and an eerie silence descended upon the room. After a long pause, a somewhat weary voice finally spoke: "It's not your duty, do your job, Laborff."

  A flicker of disappointment crossed Laborff's face, but he replied without delay: "As you command! My lord." With that, Laborff stood up, flicked his sleeves, and strode out of the room.

  With the footsteps, the room returned to silence. Inside, slight smoke drifted from a bronze lion-head incense burner. It swirled gently, bringing life to the heavy stillness.

  " You left too many traces." After a long pause, the figure in the chair spoke into the air before them.

  "Appraise Rakshasa! May I ask Magistrate Hoffmann how I can be less obvious?" A low Buddhist chant rang out, and a figure emerged, inching from behind the screen.

  The figure, with one hand palm-up on his chest, wore a white monk's robe and a calm expression, yet he was a bald monk.

  "Pathos malice is deep-seated and strong, so why not choose something gentler?" Hoffmann shifted his chubby frame, squinting at the large monk beside him, and asked.

  "Magistrate Hoffmann, strength and weakness vary from person to person. Pathos malice is strong for mortals, but it feels plain next to Yearning's."

  "Besides, Pathos malice is meant to attract the attention of Yearning Palace. So, it's just right." The monk smiled and muttered.

  "When will the Paradise Reception Formation be effective?" Hoffmann didn't respond but continued.

  "It's difficult to plant my Buddha statue to complete the new formation without attracting the Yearning Palace's attention. We need more chaos." The monk shook his head.

  "I can't hold out for much longer, at most half a month. If you still can't plant the statue, I'll kill you myself." Hoffmann glanced at the monk, and suddenly, a bloody sight surged behind him, seeming to fill the room. The bronze lion-head cauldron vibrated with a humming sound, like a baby crying.

  "As you will. Rakshasa bless you. " The monk seemed oblivious to all this, his smile still on his face. He bowed slightly to Hoffmann, then slowly retreated, disappearing completely behind the screen.

  "A calamity has struck; the empire is in tatters. What can I choose in the maelstrom?" Hoffmann muttered, looking out of the door.