The Phoenix of the Slums

Tianming and Xiaoqing made their way through the narrow streets of the port town, their footsteps muffled by the thick fog that had descended. The storm still raged behind them, the wind howling in their ears, but in the town, everything seemed eerily quiet.

The only sound was the distant crash of waves against the rocks, the occasional clink of metal as a fisherman’s boat creaked in the dock.

They moved quickly, staying to the shadows, knowing they couldn’t afford to be seen. They had no idea how much time they had before the Lotus Clan—or anyone else involved in the experiment—found out what had happened at the Cradle. The Keymaster’s ominous words echoed in Tianming’s mind.

“The Cradle has opened. And you’ve heard the first cry.”

That was the problem. He had no idea what that meant.

Was it a warning?

A prophecy?

Or just a statement of fact?

Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. The creature they had awakened was the least of their concerns now. The people behind the Cradle, those who had orchestrated the twisted experiments, were still out there, and they would stop at nothing to recover their secrets.

As they neared the old warehouse at the end of the dock, Tianming gestured for Xiaoqing to stay low. He slipped inside first, checking the shadows.

The warehouse was silent, save for the occasional creak of the beams above them. The air inside was thick with the smell of salt and mildew.

A few crates were stacked along the walls, and in the far corner, a small generator hummed faintly, providing the only light.

“Stay close,” Tianming whispered. He moved swiftly, his eyes darting around. There was no time to waste. They had to get in touch with the Orchid Society. His contact there could provide them with the resources they needed to track down the people behind the experiments and, hopefully, stop whatever was coming.

Xiaoqing nodded silently, her face pale in the dim light. She didn’t need to ask where they were going. She had already guessed that Tianming was using the Society’s connections.

Tianming approached a metal door in the back of the warehouse, hidden behind a stack of crates. He knocked twice, then paused. A moment later, there was a soft click, and the door swung open, revealing a man in his mid-thirties with short-cropped hair and a lean build.

His face was stern, but his eyes betrayed a hint of curiosity.

The man was dressed in dark clothes, blending in perfectly with the shadows around them.

“Are you Tianming?” he asked, his voice low, almost cautious.

Tianming gave a slight nod. “I need to speak with your leader.”

The man hesitated, then motioned for them to follow him. “Come inside quickly. We’ve been expecting you.”

Inside, the dimly lit room was filled with papers and maps, the walls lined with shelves of documents. It was clear this was more than just a meeting place—it was a hub of activity, a nerve center for the Orchid Society’s operations.

Tianming’s eyes scanned the room, his mind racing.

The walls were lined with photos of various individuals—some were high-ranking officials, others were criminals, all connected by a single thread: the ancient, underground world of power, betrayal, and secrecy that the Orchid Society was part of.

The man led them to a small, unassuming office at the back of the room. There, sitting at a desk, was an older woman, her face sharp and angular, with piercing eyes that seemed to see through everything. Her hair was tied back in a neat bun, and she wore a simple but elegant dark blue dress.

She was calm, composed, but there was a strength in her presence that radiated from every movement.

“Tianming,” she said, her voice smooth but authoritative. “I’ve been expecting you. You’ve stirred quite the storm.”

Tianming stepped forward, his expression grim. “I need information—about the Cradle. And the people behind the experiments there. I can’t do this alone.”