The opening scene reveals the story of Yao Lao, alarming the Soul Emperor.

Hun Feng knelt on the ground, trembling like a living person who had been stripped naked and plunged into ice water in the dead of winter.

His forehead was almost touching the stone slab.

"Your Highness, I...I did handle those drafts, but the final approval of the route was not in my hands..."

"I know it's not in your hands."

Hun Miesheng's voice dropped, becoming an extremely low and muffled tone.

"I'm asking what you found out after three months of investigation?"

Hun Feng's lips trembled several times before he managed to string together a complete sentence.

"Your subordinate... Your subordinate has repeatedly checked the circulation records of every route draft. From the drafting to the copying and destruction, every person involved has signed and sealed the document."

"No irregularities were found by my subordinates."

"So you haven't found anything."

These words were spoken without any emotion, yet they were more frightening than when the speaker was angry.

Hun Feng's fingers dug a shallow mark into the ground.

"Lord, the ancient clans' methods are extremely strange. I suspect they possess some kind of tracking technique that allows them to intercept targets remotely..."

"Tracking techniques?"

Hun Miesheng's voice finally carried a hint of something.

It's not anger, it's colder than anger.

"I used my soul power to directly implant the route for the eighth operation into the minds of three people."

"There was no paper, no pen, and no physical records whatsoever."

"The three routes are stored deep within the souls of the three individuals, and cannot be accessed by external forces."

"Tell me, what kind of tracking technique can extract something from someone's soul?"

Hun Feng opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

He couldn't find the words.

The air pressure inside the main hall grew lower and lower.

The Dou Zun kneeling on both sides dared not utter a sound or raise their heads. Some of the lower-level cultivators had already begun to stiffen, their knees becoming numb from kneeling so much that they could no longer feel the pain.

Hunyuan stood on the platform above, his gray eyes fixed on a certain floor tile, his expression extremely calm.

"Lord of the Palace."

He spoke, his voice very steady.

"The ancient clans have expanded their power extremely rapidly over the past century, and their investment in intelligence networks far exceeds our expectations. I believe that Hun Feng has indeed failed in his investigation, but to place all the blame on the Intelligence Division is probably..."

"Soul Abyss".

Hun Miesheng called his name.

"Are you speaking up for him?"

Hunyuan shut his mouth.

But he only held his breath for a moment.

"The subordinate is stating the facts."

"fact?"

A low chuckle came from the throne.

That laughter sounded worse than crying.

"The truth is that out of fifty-three Dou Zun, more than forty died."

"The truth is that in the eyes of the ancient clans, our Heavenly Gang Palace's top-secret operations are no different from notices posted on the street."

"The truth is, everyone sitting here is either a useless piece of trash or a mole."

Tell me, which one are you?

Hunyuan did not speak again.

A fine layer of sweat appeared on his back, but his posture remained unchanged.

The atmosphere in the main hall was absolutely terrible.

Hun Feng, who was kneeling in front of the steps, finally couldn't hold on any longer, and his forehead hit the ground with a dull thud.

"Your Highness, please forgive me! I am incompetent! I truly cannot find anything..."

"You can't find out."

Soul Extinction repeated his words.

"Three months, dozens of lives lost, and you can't find out."

"Then what use are you?"

Hun Feng lay prostrate on the ground, too afraid to move.

He realized that this wasn't an insult, but a judgment against him.

Black mist descended from the throne, creeping down the bone steps one by one.

The tip of the mist touched Hun Feng's back.

Icy.

Scorching hot.

Two completely contradictory temperatures simultaneously poured into his body.

Hun Feng let out a short scream, his body arched, and his limbs twitched.

The black mist coiled around his arms, his neck, and his head as if it were alive.

"Lord, spare me! I can still investigate! Give me three days... no, one day!"

His voice changed, from screaming to howling, and from howling to a hoarse, breathy sound.

The black mist seeped into his pores, his mouth, and his ears.

A visible red light was drawn out of his body; it was the color of essence and life force mixed together.

The red light was swept away by the black mist and sent back towards the throne.

Within ten breaths, Hun Feng's face transformed from that of a middle-aged man into a wrinkled old face, and then from an old face into a layer of dry skin clinging to his bones.

His mouth was still open, and the last sound was stuck in his throat.

Twelve breaths.

A mummified corpse.

The black mist loosened its grip on him.

The mummified corpse fell forward from its kneeling position, rolling down the sloping steps and making dry, rattling sounds as it hit the bone-covered surface.

After rolling down three steps, the body veered off course and slid diagonally to one side.

It slid to Hunyu's feet.

The mummified corpse's face was facing upwards, its empty eye sockets staring at the ceiling, and its open mouth containing only a row of blackened teeth.

The clothes were still neat, a dark red robe in the style of the Heavenly Gang Hall, with the silver striped insignia still on the shoulders.

The person inside had been sucked dry, reduced to a thin layer of skin.

Hunyu looked down at the dried corpse at his feet.

His face showed no fear, no shock, and hardly any expression at all.

He simply shifted his foot to avoid getting a small puddle of black liquid flowing from the corpse, so as not to soil his shoes.

The main hall was deathly silent.

Everything that just happened happened so fast.

From the moment the soul ceased to question the living, to the moment the soul was transformed into a dried corpse, the entire process took no more than thirty breaths.

A Dou Zun-level intelligence chief had his life essence drained on the spot in front of the Tian Gang Palace's higher-ups, unable to withstand even a single move.

It's not that we can't stop it, it's that we simply don't have the right to stop it.

Some of the Dou Zun kneeling on both sides were relieved, some were afraid, and some had both emotions mixed up and couldn't be distinguished.

But everyone was waiting for the next words from the throne.

That sentence is here.

Soul Extinction's blood-red vertical pupils swept across the hall from the black mist, from left to right, from front to back.

Everyone whose gaze swept over them lowered their heads an inch further.

"The mole is still inside."

His voice had turned completely cold, devoid of any anger, carrying only a chilling calm that sent shivers down one's spine.

"There may be one, or more than one."

"Sitting among you, wearing the same robes, receiving the same salary, you secretly sell the lives of your colleagues to the ancient tribes for your own gain."

"I don't know who it is."

"But I will know."