The silver moonlight was a spotlight, and the Demon Mask was the audience.
Su Cheng felt the cold edge of Lin Kai's dagger vibrating against his throat. He could see the tears pooling in Lin Kai's eyes, but he also saw the shadow in the rafters shift.
The whistle had been a warning. The "test" wasn't over.
"He's still watching," Su Cheng breathed, his voice so low it was barely a vibration against Lin Kai's blade.
He forced his face to stay in that cold, Marquis-like sneer even as his soul was screaming.
"Lin Kai... we have to fight. If he thinks you've gone soft, he'll kill us both right here."
Lin Kai's hand trembled. "I can't... Su Cheng, I can't keep doing this. My body feels like it's made of lead and needles."
"You have to," Su Cheng hissed. He leaned in, making it look like he was struggling for dominance. He used the "Marquis" baritone to mask his words.
"Listen to me. I'm going to 'escape.' I'll throw a smoke-bomb from my sleeve—the Marquis always carries them. When it hits, you lunge left. Don't hit me. Just make it look like you tried."
Lin Kai swallowed hard, his "Number Seven" instincts slowly overriding his panic. "Where? When do we talk?"
"The bridge," Su Cheng whispered, his analytical mind already mapping out the Palace blueprints he'd "inherited" from the virus' identification in his brain.
"Third night from now. The Weeping Willow Bridge at midnight. I'll buy your 'contract' from the Shadow Pavilion if I have to. Now... GO!"
Su Cheng let out a roar of fake fury. "You dare lay hands on the Western Gate?!"
He slammed his palm into Lin Kai's chest—not hard enough to bruise, but enough to create distance. Simultaneously, Su Cheng snapped his wrist. A small, black sphere tucked into his silk cuff hit the stone floor.
**BOOM.**
A thick, acrid cloud of grey smoke billowed up, smelling of sulfur and burnt salt.
"Target lost!" Lin Kai screamed, his voice pitching high in a perfect imitation of a frustrated assassin.
Lin Kai lunged into the smoke, his black dagger cutting through the air where Su Cheng's neck had been a second ago.
He moved like a shadow, his "Identification" taking over, performing a series of acrobatic flips and strikes against the empty air, making it sound like a desperate struggle was happening inside the cloud.
Su Cheng, meanwhile, was sprinting through the smoke toward the library doors. His heavy robes felt like they were trying to trip him, but the "Marquis" muscle memory kept him upright.
"Guards!" Su Cheng bellowed, his voice echoing through the gardens. "An assassin! Protect the Library!"
The garden erupted into chaos. Torches flickered to life in the distance. The rhythmic 'thump-thump' of armored boots approached.
Lin Kai emerged from the smoke, landing on the roof of a small pagoda. He looked back for a split second, locking eyes with Su Cheng through the haze.
'Third night. Midnight.'
"Next time, Marquis!" Lin Kai yelled, the Number Seven persona sounding cold and hollow. "Your head will be mine!"
Lin Kai vanished into the darkness of the eaves just as the first wave of palace guards arrived.
Su Cheng stood at the library entrance, his chest heaving, his hand still clutching the jade stiletto.
He looked at the guards bowing before him, their faces full of terror. He hated them. He hated the silk on his back. He hated the blood-red seal he'd just stamped onto a death warrant.
'I have to get us out of here,' Su Cheng thought, his modern, mathematical brain already calculating the variables of their survival.
'But first, I need to find the Captain. And I need to find whoever this 'Shadow Merchant' is before he sells us all out.'
---
High above, the low whistle echoed one last time—fading, unsatisfied. The Demon Mask was gone, but the game had only just begun.
The air in the Pavilion's lower tier was thick with the smell of tallow candles and damp limestone. Lin Kai sat on a stone slab, his fingers digging into the fabric of his charcoal silks.
Every time a drop of water hit the floor—'tap, tap, tap' —he flinched, expecting it to be the sound of the bus's brakes screeching.
"Number Seven."
The voice came from the rafters. 'Number Three' dropped down, landing with the weightless thud of a dead leaf. He was a senior predator, his face a mess of jagged scars, his eyes two pits of obsidian that seemed to track the very pulse in Lin Kai's neck.
"The Marquis lives," Three said, his voice a flat, tonal drone. "And you return empty-handed. Literally."
Lin Kai felt the "Identification" virus flare in his mind, trying to force his spine to straighten, trying to make him bow.
He fought it, his modern brain "The... The Marquis... he has..." Lin Kai stumbled over the word for 'hidden guards.'
"He... he hidden many men. In the... in the paper-room. Library. I... I did make the strike, but the smoke..."
He stopped. The word for 'smoke bomb' felt wrong. In this world, they called them 'Thunder-Mist Spheres.'
"The Mist was thick," Lin Kai corrected, his jaw tight. "I could not see the... the limb. To take the hand... it was... not possible."
Three stepped closer, the smell of raw vinegar and old blood rolling off his clothes. He grabbed Lin Kai's wrist, his grip so tight the bones groaned.
"You speak like a peasant from the mud-flats, Seven," Three hissed. "Your tongue is lazy. Your movements are... soft. Did the Marquis's wealth turn your blood to water?"
Around them, other shadows shifted in the gloom. In the Pavilion, failure wasn't a reprimand; it was a debt paid in flesh. Lin Kai could feel their eyes—judging the "glitch" in his behavior.
"I am... loyal," Lin Kai said, forcing his voice to drop into a cold, hollow rasp. "I will do the task. Next time. I will bring the hand."
"There is no next time for the hand," a new voice echoed.
The 'Demon Mask' stepped out from the deepest shadow. He didn't look human in the flickering torchlight; he looked like a nightmare carved from dark wood.
"The Emperor is impatient," the Mask whispered, and though Lin Kai didn't know the man's face, the title alone felt like a physical weight.
"The Marquis is no longer a warning. He is a target. But first, we have a new order. The 'Shadow Merchant' —a man who hoards secrets like a dragon hoards gold—is holding a prisoner in his salt-vaults. A General."
Lin Kai's heart hammered against his ribs. 'General? Merchant?' The names meant nothing to him, just more roles in this twisted play.
"You will infiltrate the Merchant's vaults tonight," the Mask commanded. "Find out who is paying the Merchant to keep the General alive. If it is a rebel... kill them both. If it is the Marquis... kill the General and bring me the Merchant's ledger."
Lin Kai bowed, his forehead hitting the cold, grit-covered floor. The stone was freezing against his skin.
"I understand," Lin Kai whispered.
"Seven," the Mask added, his voice dropping to a terrifyingly soft purr. "If you fail again, I will not take your hand. I will take your eyes. A blind assassin is of no use, but they make excellent bait for the crows."
The shadows vanished, leaving Lin Kai alone in the damp tomb. He stayed on the floor, his nails digging into the dirt until they bled.
"Okay," he whispered in a tiny, modern voice that no one could hear. "Okay, Kai. It's just a quest. It's just a stealth mission. Don't throw up. Just... don't throw up."
He stood up, his legs shaking, and began to sharpen his black dagger against the stone.
The 'shhh-shhh-shhh' of the steel was the only sound in the dark.
He didn't know the Merchant. He didn't know the General. All he knew was that if he didn't kill a stranger tonight, he would never see the light of the sun again.