Chapter 83: The Paper Artisan of the Netherworld

Fu Yang and Ah Huang were, of course, still unaware of all this, sleeping like pigs in their hotel suite, snoring so loudly it sounded like thunder...

Ring ring, ring ring.

When dawn broke, Fu Yang was jolted awake by his phone alarm, suddenly remembering that today was not a day for rest.

He had to accompany Zhao Shanshan, using ordinary human methods—regular violence—to deal with the demon tree, to see if there was any way he could help.

“Hey, get up. Time to find Shanshan.”

He nudged Ah Huang.

The guy’s mouth was wide open, snoring away. Snot at his nostrils bubbled with each breath, comically. Absolutely no reaction.

“Damn! Sleeping like a pig, aren’t you?”

A mischievous impulse struck him. He glanced around.

On the windowsill sat a fish tank, inside was a tiny goldfish, no bigger than a pinky finger. It swam about happily, blissfully unaware it had been noticed by a certain unscrupulous fellow, about to meet a tragic fate...

Splash.

Fu Yang scooped out the little goldfish, pinched its tail gently, and moved it toward Ah Huang’s gaping, snoring mouth.

He let go.

The unfortunate goldfish dropped inside, sliding toward the abyss...

Cough, cough, cough!!!

Ah Huang started coughing violently, his face flushed, eyes snapping open. He shot upright.

He kept rubbing his chest.

“At last you’re awake. Drink some water!”

Fu Yang hurriedly handed him a glass.

Ah Huang took it and gulped it down, finally sighing with relief. Smacking his lips, he said, “Why does my mouth feel a bit strange?”

“What’s the matter?”

“Feels like I had a dream.”

“What kind of dream?” Fu Yang blinked.

“I dreamed I was a poached fish...”

Cough, cough, cough. Now Fu Yang was the one coughing...

Back to the story. Half an hour later, the two of them arrived at the entrance of the Jiangcheng Public Security Bureau.

As usual, they swaggered inside, heading straight for the detective office area.

They hadn’t walked far when a cold, stern voice rang out, as if delivering a lecture.

“From your description, it’s obviously a Corpse Demon Tree. Without even that basic knowledge, you dare call yourself a master? I’d say you’re more like a dog or shit. Where did this wild Taoist come from?”

“Commissioner Wang, there’s no need to be so harsh. Why all the barbs?”

That was Zhao Shanshan, clearly irritated. For someone as gentle as her to speak so angrily, the other party must be quite a piece of work.

Fu Yang guessed immediately that the unfamiliar male voice was talking about Ah Huang.

Sure enough, when he turned his head, Ah Huang’s face was livid, greenish, as if he’d swallowed a heap of flies. Through clenched teeth he managed, “Damn it! He dares call me a dog or shit? I want to see what kind of big shot he is.”

He barged ahead of Fu Yang and walked right in.

Bang.

The door swung open.

Inside the deputy team leader’s office, the place was a mess, piled high with files and documents, seemingly being sorted.

Zhao Shanshan sat across from a man in a long black trench coat. Neither looked particularly happy.

“Hmph, I, Huang Lengshuo, would like to see which dog is barking here. What a stench!”

Ah Huang might be easygoing, but that didn’t mean he was a pushover—being called a dog and shit directly was intolerable. If it were Fu Yang, he wouldn’t waste words, just grab whatever was handy and go at it...

Seeing them arrive, Zhao Shanshan quickly greeted them, “Fu Yang, you’re here? This is Wang Jian, Special Investigator for Group Zero of the National Security Bureau, Eastern China District.”

Wang Jian turned to them as well, his gaze sharp as a blade, radiating an intimidating presence.

Ah Huang’s temper flared, “Look here, bastard! Today I’ll teach you not to badmouth people behind their backs.”

With a flick of his right hand, a talisman appeared at his fingertips.

With a boom, it burst into a fireball, which he flung toward Wang Jian.

Hmph!

The other man snorted coldly, not moving in the slightest. He simply flicked his hand resting on the desk, sending an ordinary sheet of office paper flying toward Ah Huang’s fireball.

As it flew, it rapidly transformed!

It was as if an invisible hand was folding the paper in midair. In an instant, the ordinary sheet became a large fish, its head and tail swaying vividly—an astonishing sight.

The origami fish collided with Ah Huang’s fireball talisman.

A soft mist of water sprayed out...

The fireball vanished, and the origami fish turned to ash, drifting gently to the floor.

“Dragon and Tiger Mountain Fire Talisman. Not bad. Pity you’ve never even received an ordination.”

Wang Jian commented coolly, sipping his tea. He turned back to Zhao Shanshan, “Deputy Captain Zhao, I plan to lead the team to the botanical garden in half an hour. It’s transition time, so technically you’re still in charge. Let’s go together.”

With that, he nodded slightly, took a file folder from the desk, and gave Ah Huang and Fu Yang a cold glance before leaving.

Ah Huang stared at his back, his face shifting through emotions, finally squeezing out a sentence between his teeth.

“Bloody hell! A Spirit Paper Master... I hate these gloomy, self-righteous types the most. And he’s from the National Security Bureau—what a joke. Wang Jian, sounds like a jerk to me...”

Spirit Paper Master? What on earth was that?

Fu Yang and Zhao Shanshan were both perplexed, but understood that Ah Huang was referring to Wang Jian’s identity in the supernatural world.

“Ah Huang, who won just now? Never mind if you’re not happy. Next time, we’ll ambush him with a sack and give him a beating. Just because his spells are strong doesn’t mean his fighting skills are.”

Fu Yang tried to comfort him.

Unexpectedly, Ah Huang shook his head.

“Forget it. Spirit Paper Masters are tough to deal with. They’re one of the biggest factions in the Freelance Practitioner Alliance. And the guy’s an official, has a government position. We’re just ordinary folks.”

Unable to withstand Fu Yang and Zhao Shanshan’s curiosity, Ah Huang explained Spirit Paper Masters.

As the name implies, spirit paper is burned for the dead—paper money, paper figures, paper horses, paper houses, paper servants, and so on...

Originally, they were just folk craftsmen making paper offerings. Over time, they got stronger, and started calling themselves ‘Spirit Paper Masters’.

Besides the orthodox Buddhist and Taoist sects, many ‘extraordinary’ folk practitioners formed their own groups—these make up the Freelance Practitioner Alliance, with Spirit Paper Masters being quite influential within it.

These people have always dealt with the underworld, providing ‘benefits’ to the dead, so they see themselves as righteous.

They were also the first in the alliance to establish ties with official agencies, so they now have considerable influence at high levels of government—second only to the three Taoist giants...

(Second update! Dear readers, Old Wu is working so diligently and earnestly, throw your recommendation votes and rewards at me~)