Chapter 043: Impact

After explaining the plan that would follow, Old Wang leaned in to whisper a few more words to the magistrate. At this moment, the magistrate was drenched in sweat, his face deathly pale, truly as terrified as a stray dog. When he finally managed to collect himself enough to speak, Yao Qian could still hear the tremor and fear in his voice. Yao Qian understood—when he had first encountered those creatures, even he had broken out in a cold sweat. They were simply too bizarre, too terrifying.

The magistrate didn’t say much more, hurrying everyone to leave quickly; he wanted nothing more than to get out of the yamen, which he now considered far too dangerous. Once the magistrate finished, Old Wang began issuing detailed and meticulous orders for their departure. In just half a cup of tea’s time, Old Wang led the magistrate and his family out through the rear gate, with Yao Qian and the others following closely behind. In the darkness, their group of several dozen avoided lighting torches, not wanting to draw the monsters’ attention.

As for the main gate of the yamen, that was out of the question. They were running for their lives; to escape openly through the front would be nothing short of courting death. Moreover, if they fled from the main entrance, the magistrate’s career would be finished, and the entire city of Pingyang would be plunged into panic.

But by withdrawing in secret, with no one the wiser, there would be plenty of excuses to explain the chaos later. If they could smooth things over with their contacts behind the scenes, there wouldn’t be much trouble.

Yao Qian had no mind for these tangled thoughts. They had just exited through the rear gate when he heard a deafening crash from the front of the yamen, like a distant explosion. The noise was so loud it shook the ears; half of Pingyang must have heard it.

Yao Qian’s face changed as he looked back. The others were no different, their expressions twisting in fear and shock as they stared toward the yamen’s main gate. The sound had come from there.

They didn’t know the full truth, but they understood enough: even the yamen’s defenses couldn’t withstand the assault of these formidable intruders. It was deeply unsettling. After all, the yamen symbolized the authority and dignity of the court; its main gate was the most imposing part of the compound, built to project power and awe.

Those who worked in the yamen knew well how solid that front gate was: constructed from five-inch-thick iron birchwood, as tough as steel, it could withstand dozens of strikes from a battering ram without so much as cracking. A layer of iron plating outside made it impervious to siege weapons.

Yet even such a gate could not withstand the force of these attackers.

Everyone understood just how dire their situation was.

Yao Qian quickly recovered, snapping, “Stop staring! Move! If we’re caught, none of us will survive!”

This was no empty threat. After hearing that crash at the front gate, everyone knew the stakes. His shout jolted them awake, and they broke into a frantic run, plunging into the darkness as if they wished they’d been born with four legs.

Yao Qian felt much the same. He had thought the main gate might buy them some time, but now it was clear: these monsters were far stronger than he had imagined.

He glanced at the people beside him—twelve in all, not counting the two guarding the magistrate. These twelve were the most capable fighters among them. That was why they had been assigned to the rear, to guard the retreat.

Yao Qian and the others moved swiftly, soon swallowed by the night, their footsteps and ragged breathing the only signs of their passage.

Back in the yamen, the dwarf in the yellow robe, Old Huang, stood in the main hall beneath a plaque inscribed with “Justice Like a Bright Mirror.” The stench of blood filled the air; bodies lay strewn across the floor, some hacked to pieces beyond recognition. Most were young men and women in blue robes or skirts—servants and maids from the magistrate’s household—now nothing more than food for the monsters.

Outside the main hall, shrieks and screams of terror rang out—quick, desperate, and soon silenced—mingling with the sickening howls of the monsters. The yamen had become a living hell.

Old Huang scanned the empty hall, his face dark as thunder. He hadn’t expected the others to slip away so quickly; his speed was formidable, but theirs had been even greater, as if they’d known what was coming and fled in advance.

“Let’s see if you can escape my grasp,” he muttered, his eyes glinting with naked malice, his face twisted with rage.

The candlelight stretched his shadow long and thin across the floor, thick with sinister menace.

He was about to let his followers feast before resuming the chase, when another figure entered the hall. Old Huang looked up with a frown.

“I told you to go after them. Why are you here?”

The newcomer was a young man—the one from the alley before—his expression strained but controlled as he saluted.

“Second Boss, I followed their trail and found them.”

As he spoke, he placed two objects on the table: the corpses of the two cattle lice that Yao Qian had picked up earlier. When they left, Old Wang hadn’t taken the bodies, wary of what tricks these monsters might have.

Old Huang’s eyes narrowed, cold light flashing. “So, we’ve found our culprits. I was wondering how they escaped so quickly. Turns out, the ones who killed our men were officials. Now the score must be settled—none of them can be allowed to escape.”

He remembered the death of Chen Shanque, also at the hands of the authorities. If he was correct, the same person had foiled them both times.

He strode out of the hall, the wind whipping his yellow robe as a dangerous aura radiated from him.

The dwarf Old Huang was clearly furious.

“You lot, chase them down! I want them alive if possible, dead if not. Bring me their bodies if you must!”

His voice thundered through the yamen like a clap of doom, echoing in the monsters’ ears. Within moments, a dozen figures melted into the darkness from the rear gate.

Meanwhile, Yao Qian and his twelve companions pressed on at desperate speed. But with several dozen in their party, including women and children, how fast could they really escape? It didn’t take long for their pursuers to catch up.

Yao Qian’s heart pounded with anxiety. He had agreed to cover the rear for his own reasons, but he hadn’t expected the monsters to be so fast, leaving him no time to react.

In other counties, the monsters had never attacked the authorities directly—they slaughtered indiscriminately, without clear purpose. Yao Qian and Old Wang had suspected they might have a different goal this time, but neither had guessed that the monsters’ true target was them.

Realizing this, a chill settled over Yao Qian. He glanced back, but the night was so black he could see nothing; it was as if a primordial beast waited behind them, mouth agape, ready to swallow them whole.

“I hope I’m just imagining things,” he murmured.