If I, a death row inmate, am not to become a demon, am I to become a member of the Imperial Guard?

The door to the mortuary creaked open.

The sound was very soft, like a needle piercing the noisy air outside.

The sound effect of Scarface's curses faltered. He turned around and saw the person walking out of the door.

He was a young man. He wore ordinary coarse cloth clothes and still carried the musty smell unique to the mortuary. His face was clean and expressionless.

The moonlight shone on him, casting a long shadow that resembled a needle stuck upside down in the ground.

"Whose dog is barking outside?"

Zhou Yang spoke. His voice wasn't loud, but it was like the winter wind, brushing against everyone's eardrums.

Scarface paused for a moment, then laughed. He weighed the half-brick in his hand and pointed it at Zhou Yang.

"Kid, you're asking for it?" he sneered. "If you know what's good for you, get inside, or I'll tear down this dilapidated temple of yours too."

Zhou Yang didn't say anything more.

He walked down the steps one by one.

My feet sank into the mud without making a sound.

Before the smile on Scarface's face could fade, a hand grabbed his neck.

The hand wasn't large or thick, but it felt like a red-hot iron clamp. Scarface felt his throat bones creaking, unable to utter a single word. The brick in his hand fell to the ground and shattered in two.

Zhou Yang simply raised his other hand casually.

The two thugs closest to him collapsed to the ground without uttering a sound, as if struck by an invisible hammer. They twitched a couple of times and then remained motionless.

The rest of the people were terrified.

Zhou Yang grabbed Scarface by the neck and pulled him in front of him. With his other hand, he lightly traced the scar on Scarface's face.

"The Black Tiger Gang?" Zhou Yang asked.

Scarface's eyes widened like copper bells as he nodded frantically.

"Where is the church?"

Scarface pointed his other hand tremblingly to the street corner.

Zhou Yang loosened his grip.

Scarface lay sprawled on the ground like a lump of mud, coughing violently with his mouth wide open, desperately trying to force air into his lungs.

Zhou Yang didn't even glance at him again and walked straight to the street corner.

The thugs scrambled to hide against the wall, staring at the young man's retreating figure as if he were a demon crawling out of hell. They didn't even have the courage to help Scarface up.

The Black Tiger Gang's headquarters are not far away.

It was right on the busiest street corner. Two large red lanterns hung at the entrance, their light shining brightly on the two gilded characters "Black Tiger" above the door. Several gang members, shirtless and revealing their muscular physiques, sat at the entrance, chatting and fanning themselves with palm-leaf fans.

Seeing Zhou Yang approach, one of them stood up.

"What are you doing here? This is Black Tiger Gang territory. Get lost, you busybody."

Zhou Yang ignored him. He walked straight inside.

The group of people reached out and pushed Zhou Yang's shoulder.

Before his hand even touched Zhou Yang's clothes, he felt a tremendous force coming from the opposite side. It was as if he had been hit by a charging bull; his feet left the ground, and he was sent flying backward.

"Bang!"

He smashed a wooden table behind him to pieces.

The hall fell silent instantly. All eyes were on Zhou Yang.

Zhou Yang walked further in, and no one dared to stop him anymore.

He walked through the front hall to the back courtyard. This was a martial arts training ground, where dozens of gang members were practicing their forms. A burly man with broad shoulders and a thick waist sat in a grand chair, twirling two walnuts in his hands, coldly watching him.

This is Black Tiger, the leader of the Black Tiger Gang.

A Body Tempering Realm expert who is somewhat famous in the martial arts world.

"Who are you?" Black Tiger's voice was deep, like thunder.

Zhou Yang walked to the center of the courtyard and stopped. He glanced at the gang members who had gathered around, his gaze finally settling on Black Tiger.

"I've requisitioned this land," Zhou Yang said.

Black Tiger's facial muscles twitched. He slowly stood up, cracking the walnuts in his hand with a snapping sound.

"Such arrogance." He cracked his knuckles, the bones popping loudly. "Kid, do you know who I am?"

Zhou Yang was too lazy to waste words with him.

"Three moves." He held up three fingers. "After that, you'll be my dog."

Black Tiger's rage was completely ignited.

He let out a beastly roar, the bluestone slabs beneath his feet cracked, and he charged towards Zhou Yang like a cannonball. His punch, accompanied by a fierce gust of wind, kicked up dust from the ground.

A full-force strike from the peak of the Body Tempering Realm can kill a bull.

Zhou Yang did not dodge.

He simply extended one finger.

It struck the wrist of the black tiger as it swung.

Black Tiger felt as if he had struck not a finger, but a mountain. An irresistible force surged from his opponent's fingertip, numbing his entire arm and preventing his fist from penetrating any further.

He froze on the spot.

The Black Tiger Gang members around them were dumbfounded.

Black Tiger's face turned a deep purplish-red; he couldn't believe his eyes. He withdrew his fist, his other hand transforming into a claw, lunging towards Zhou Yang's throat. This move was even more vicious and faster.

Zhou Yang still didn't move.

He simply lifted his foot.

He kicked Black Tiger's knee with a light but firm kick.

"Snap!"

A crisp sound of bone cracking.

Black Tiger's scream turned into a muffled groan before it could even be uttered. He lost his balance on one leg and collapsed to his knees. Looking down, he saw his knee twisted outwards at a bizarre angle.

The excruciating pain caused him to break out in a sweat.

He tried to get up, but his leg wouldn't obey him.

Zhou Yang had already walked up to him.

He looked down at Black Tiger kneeling on the ground, his eyes devoid of any emotion.

"The third move."

Zhou Yang bent down, placed one hand on Black Tiger's shoulder, and with the other hand, precisely pinched his collarbone.

Zhou Yang didn't use any special techniques.

He simply tightened his grip on his fingers.

"Crunch..."

A teeth-grinding cracking sound rang out.

Black Tiger's scream finally broke through his throat, but it only rang out halfway before turning into a painful whimper. His shoulders slumped completely, unable to muster any more strength.

He became a useless person.

The entire training ground was deathly silent. The gang members were all pale with fright, their legs trembling. They had never seen such a terrifying person. Their gang leader, the invincible powerhouse in their eyes, had been crippled in just three moves.

Zhou Yang released his grip and walked to the armchair, sitting down. He crossed his legs, took out his pipe from his pocket, and found that the tobacco was all gone, so he tucked it back into his waistband with some annoyance.

"The ledger." Zhou Yang looked at the Black Tiger lying on the ground and uttered a single word.

Black Tiger trembled all over in pain, his forehead covered in cold sweat. He raised his head, his eyes filled with fear and resentment.

"You...you dare to touch the Black Tiger Gang...the imperial court will not let you get away with this..."

Zhou Yang didn't say anything.

He simply raised his foot and gently kicked Black Tiger's already crippled leg.

"ah--!"

Black Tiger let out another pig-like scream.

"I'll say it again," Zhou Yang's voice remained calm, "The ledgers. All the secret hideouts. And, as you all know, all the dirt on the high-ranking officials in the capital."

Black Tiger was panting heavily, the color draining from his face. Looking into Zhou Yang's emotionless eyes, he finally realized that he had provoked a completely incomprehensible being.

He struggled and gave a wink to one of his men who was so scared he was about to wet himself.

The henchman scrambled into the house and quickly came out carrying a large box. The box was heavy and had a large padlock on it.

"The key," Zhou Yang said again.

Black Tiger pulled a red rope from his neck, from which hung a brass key.

The subordinate opened the box. Inside were not gold or silver, but stacks of account books. Some were very new, while others were yellowed and curled at the edges.

Zhou Yang picked up the top book.

Turn it over.

The entries were written in tiny, meticulous characters. But the content was shocking.

On the seventh day of the third month, Zhang, the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Revenue, purchased 300 mu of farmland for 50,000 taels of silver.

"On the first day of the fourth month, Li, the military officer of the Beijing garrison, privately purchased two hundred sets of armor for eight thousand taels of silver."

"On the fifteenth of May, ten 'goods' were delivered to the Imperial Preceptor's residence, all of them virgins aged sixteen..."

Every single one of these acts is a piece of evidence that can bring someone down from their horse.

These account books were the foundation upon which the Black Tiger Gang established itself in Beijing. They were also their death warrant.

Zhou Yang flipped through the pages quickly. His fingers traced the names as if he were looking at a list of the dead.

Black Tiger lay on the ground, staring intently at Zhou Yang. He had no idea what this devil was up to.

After a while, Zhou Yang's finger stopped at the corner of one of the pages.

There was a small, inconspicuous note on it.

"The Imperial Preceptor's current situation: He is healing in the 'Blood Pool,' which requires a large amount of essence blood for purification. It is rumored that something major has happened, possibly related to the Qin family of the Embroidered Uniform Guard."

Zhou Yang's pupils suddenly contracted.

He raised his head and looked at Black Tiger.

"Tell me about the Imperial Advisor."

Black Tiger shuddered; he didn't know which one Zhou Yang was referring to. But in front of this devil, he dared not hide anything.

"This...this is gossip that one of the brothers in the gang overheard from a servant in the Imperial Preceptor's mansion a while ago," Black Tiger's voice was hoarse. "They said the Imperial Preceptor was seriously injured a few days ago and has been recuperating in a place called 'Blood Pool' underground in the palace. He seems to be almost healed recently and needs a large blood sacrifice to cleanse the last of his injuries..."

He paused, carefully observing Zhou Yang's expression.

"That servant said... the Imperial Advisor seems to hate a Jinyiwei guard surnamed Qin, and wants to use her as the main ingredient in a sacrificial offering..."

Zhou Yang closed the ledger.

The cover is made of black hard cowhide and feels a bit cool to the touch.

He looked up and gazed out the window.

The night in Beijing is very deep.

Like a bottomless well.