Scarlet Descent

"Goodbye, Little Wei."

"Drive safely." "Come early tomorrow..." "..."

As Wei Wei's Jeep started and left, the previously harmonious, relaxed atmosphere within the team immediately shifted.

Xiao Lin and Uncle Gun, preparing to head out, watched in the direction of Wei Wei's departure—their eyes filled with unspoken thoughts.

Meanwhile, in Captain Ouyang's office, the expression that had once shown emotional fluctuation had now settled into calmness. His gaze pierced the glass window as he watched the taillights of Wei Wei's Jeep fade away. Slowly, he picked up a cigar, roasted it with his professional lighter for a moment, then lit it carefully. Taking a long drag, he turned toward Sister Lucky across from him and said, "What do you think?"

"Young, sensible, and handsome..." Sister Lucky replied with a smile. "At first, I thought he was just a little puppy... but it turns out this little puppy is fiercer than a wolf."

"Fierce, domineering, bold... even reckless!"

Captain Ouyang shook his head slowly. "Someone like Yuan Guaizi isn’t very respectful—even to us. Yet he managed to extract information on their first meeting. When I sent Old Gun to inquire, it seems Yuan Guaizi didn’t even plan to retaliate."

"Is he really of the Life sequence?" Sister Lucky suddenly asked.

"Impossible," replied Captain Ouyang. "I saw the scene myself; that's absolutely not something a Life order member would do. The Death system inherently counters Life—let alone he also brought a..." "Burden?" "..." Nodding slightly, Lucky added, "Then does he have some kind of demonic forbidden object, or is he hiding his abilities?" "No traces of any forbidden objects were found," replied the captain in a low voice. "Besides, each demonic forbidden object is priceless. He's so young—just out of training camp—how could he possibly have one? Moreover, I already asked Feifei before the meeting, and she hasn't learned to lie. Using a forbidden object requires a price, and she was right beside him—it’s impossible she wouldn’t have noticed. And hiding abilities? That’s out of the question. His file clearly states he's of the Life order—training camp wouldn’t help him fake that." He paused, recalling the instructor's recommendation in the file, his tone betraying a hint of doubt: "...though maybe it's not certain." "Can one person have two types of abilities?" Sister Lucky asked directly. "The twelve sequences—each system corresponds to one demon," explained Captain Ouyang, shaking his head. "Even humans disdain traitors, let alone demons. Those who once tried to merge different powers were long ago torn apart by the consciousness of two demons." Raising an eyebrow, Sister Lucky inquired, "Then how do you explain it?" After a thoughtful pause, the captain suddenly laughed. "Perhaps that's what makes it normal. He definitely has secrets—that's for sure. If not, how else can we explain how a 16-year-old kid could single-handedly break into a den guarded by at least four first-state Life Demon fanatics, kill six of them, and walk out alive? Moreover, the Eastern Mountain Python—one of the Foundation's four major training camps—would never recruit ordinary people." "So what do you plan to do?" "No plans," sighed Captain Ouyang. "Although his actions are a bit out of line, they were done with good intentions. We'll just keep a closer eye on him in the future." "He's still a young man, after all; there's no need to be overly guarded." "..."

Leaving the research institute, Wei Wei’s smile vanished as he instinctively pressed the accelerator. His heart pounded like beating drums, and everything before him took on a faint red tinge—as if he had fallen into a nightmare, with endless whispers flooding his ears. Forcing himself to control his racing thoughts, he accelerated. Passing through a messy, dilapidated vegetable market, he quickly exited his car, purchased four jin (about 2 kilograms) of steamed buns and a large bowl of fatty meat, then returned home almost as if flying. Sitting on a sofa against half-painted, bright red walls, he tore open the steamed buns one by one, stuffed them with fatty meat chunks, and devoured them in large bites. He ate so quickly that four jin of buns and the bowl of meat were gone in less than ten minutes. Although his stomach did not visibly swell, the fullness from the meal began to slightly calm his mind—but the thirst remained.

Then he pulled out a black leather case from beneath the sofa. Opening it to reveal a set of complex apparatus and drugs, Wei Wei retrieved the small glass bottle hidden at his waist. Inside the bottle, a black mist swirled continuously—sometimes forming a vague human shape, other times a faint smoke, occasionally surging to the bottle’s wall, clenching like a fist and pounding heavily.

"Death sequence..."

Wei Wei's eyes glistened with writhing blood threads as he regarded the mysterious substance, his gaze greedy. Skillfully, he added the necessary materials until a black syringe materialized before him. The purified energy injection soon coursed into his body. Suddenly, his eyes flew open, his bones seemed to crackle, and the blood threads in his eyes peaked as if demons danced wildly. He watched in awe as the veins in his arm bulged like a black spider web; in his ears, he faintly heard the illusory wails of the dead. The world spun rapidly before him, as if he were falling through layer after layer of rooms until reaching the very depths of hell.

"Beep—"

An electronic alarm suddenly flashed red: "Unrecorded abnormal magnetic field detected, proceed with recor..." ... ...

Wei Wei abruptly reached out and switched off the alarm before collapsing onto the sofa, exhaling a long, shuddering breath.

Crimson Demon Second State.

Activity level: 98% No need for alarms—this lowest-grade instrument paled in comparison to his own ability to perceive his body’s state. He knew that, in the team, discussions about him were underway. But it didn’t matter; among the twelve systems, there is a thirteenth demon—isn’t that perfectly normal? With that thought, he slowly sat up.

From the box, he retrieved an old, black container that looked as though it had weathered countless battlefields. He pulled out a clothes rack, selected a cheap but comfortable gray hoodie, then fetched his gun holster. After emptying it of all but two guns, he donned the hoodie and jumped out of a nearby window. Passing through the bustling night market, he casually grabbed a transparent raincoat, turned down a narrow alley, and slipped it on. Following the adjacent fire escape, he climbed onto the roof of a neighboring building and settled at the eaves.

From his inner pocket, he extracted the black box and carefully opened it. Inside lay a fist-sized, black object resembling a phone charm. Wei Wei hooked its iron ring and lifted it—revealing a miniaturized head that looked unmistakably like a product of Ecuadorian head-shrinking techniques. Its authentic eyebrows, hair, and slightly uneven teeth left no doubt. Holding the head charm in his hand, Wei Wei then retrieved a crow's feather he’d casually pocketed from the farm. He brought the feather close to the nostrils of the head charm, swaying it gently back and forth. After a while, as if a cold wind had blown about, the head charm suddenly opened its eyes; its shriveled mouth wriggled and it uttered a ghostly sentence:

"One request, one price..." "..."

"I need you to help me find the master who made it."

The head charm remained unmoved, repeating expressionlessly, "One request, one price." Wei Wei smiled gently, raising his hand to bite through the tiger's mouth on his right hand—fresh blood dripped. The head charm grew slightly excited, its eyes widening as it stared greedily at his fresh blood. Suddenly, Wei Wei drew his gun from behind his waist and pointed it at the charm. His eyes narrowed in silence. After a moment, the head charm fell silent; then, after a pause, it continued: "One request, no price needed. One request, temporarily no price needed..." "..." "That's a good boy..." Wei Wei then brought the feather to the charm's mouth and carefully fed it to the charm. His movements were gentle, as if feeding a premature kitten. The head charm smacked its lips, savoring the taste. When Wei Wei lifted it again, the charm suddenly rolled its eyes hard toward one corner, gazing intently in one direction. "You're so good..." A happy smile spread across Wei Wei's face as he affectionately held the charm.

Whether a mysterious organization was behind the evil spirit summoning incident, Wei Wei remained uncertain. However, every superhuman who had acquired demonic power—each with their own distinct characteristics—had produced unique identifiers. These identifiers remained on the necromantic materials they crafted, their apprentices, their relatives, and their propagators, much like magnetic fields. Some special abilities or forbidden items even possessed the power to distinguish these subtle magnetic field changes. Wei Wei had worried that the necromantic materials left at the scene might not be sufficient for his friend to identify the magnetic field—perhaps the distance was too great, beyond the sensor's range. But now, it seemed he was very lucky. The mysterious organization’s members should also be considered lucky—they won’t have the chance to dig any deeper.

With that thought, he slowly walked to the edge of the eaves, spread his arms, and slowly fell backward. In his blood, a strange thirst boiled; the excited light in his eyes began to flicker.

... ...

In this world, there are demons that feed on souls—that is normal. There are demons that feed on demons...

...that's also normal, right?