Roaring Dragon-Chapter 58: Lure the Pervert In and Kill Him

Upstream of the Huai River.

Inside the five-story gambling barge, the atmosphere was wild. The raucous cheers of men and the crisp pounding of drums echoed down to the water below:

“Dum-dum-chang! Dum-dum-chang...”

“Four-five-six, bet small lose big!”

“So fresh...”

Xie Jinhuan leapt lightly onto the deck of the treasure ship. Once he confirmed that he hadn’t alarmed anyone, he disguised himself as a regular guest and made his way toward a corner of the ship.

After a quick scan, he saw that there weren’t many people on deck—just some gambling hall thugs keeping order, and a few servants carrying tea. No real heavy hitters present.

But once he peeked inside the ship’s interior, what he saw truly gave him pause.

The five-story barge was enormous. The interior was hollowed out vertically, with a massive central pillar supporting a great hall.

All around the hall were gambling tables, while at the center stood a raised stage with a giant drum on it. Ribbons hung from the ceiling, and dancers in colorful costumes swung between them, occasionally tapping the drumhead with bare feet to produce melodic beats, as other drummers accompanied them from below.

At first glance, it was just a lavish spectacle—nothing too unusual.

But on closer inspection, the figures swinging overhead wore gaudy multicolored masks, and their sheer veils barely concealed anything. Occasionally, one of them would do a mid-air split—if someone stood directly below, they'd get quite the eyeful.

Which explained why the entire hall was jam-packed. People crowded against the balcony railings several floors up, letting out wolfish howls:

“Ho-oh—!”

“One more round!”

“Her ass is so white—”

Even the gamblers playing dice and pai gow couldn’t help but glance up repeatedly.

“Now this... this is a real nightlife show.”

Xie Jinhuan had lived two lifetimes, but this was still the most “hands-on” art performance he’d ever seen. He tilted his head, wondering if they were actually going commando—but couldn’t see from his angle.

Ye Hongshang leaned against the window on the other side. Noticing where his eyes were fixed, she remarked:

“That one’s a man. Probably trained in some twisted demonic cultivation art—turned himself into this neither-male-nor-female thing.”

“...What?!”

Xie Jinhuan narrowed his eyes and focused. Sure enough, there was an Adam’s apple. His skin crawled, and he quickly looked away.

“That freak’s the one causing all this?”

“He’s just a flunky.”

Ye Hongshang scanned the roaring hall and asked:

“What do you see inside the ship?”

Xie Jinhuan carefully observed. The grand hall was packed to bursting. There were even private booths set into the walls for more refined clientele. By his estimate, at least five or six hundred people were on board—lecherous men cheering, gamblers shouting in delight. The air reeked of alcohol, smoke, and sweat.

Most of the gamblers inside looked excited—probably winning—and the erotic overhead “dancers” only stoked their fire. In their eyes lurked hunger, lust, and obsession.

Xie Jinhuan felt the eerie atmosphere of the ship settle over him. He whispered:

“What’s going on with these people?”

“Greed. Lust. The fastest paths to losing oneself. Demonic cultivation thrives on inversion of human nature. This kind of indulgence stimulates the body and raises one’s level.”

Ye Hongshang gestured toward the tightly packed crowd:

“Mad Corpse Blossoms can push these men into frenzied ecstasy. With greed and lust maximized, they burn away their life essence in bliss. That essence is then refined into a special kind of pill—likely to breach the higher demonic tier.”

Xie Jinhuan, after days of studying demon cult practices while working with the yamen, understood immediately.

Blood Demon Pills.

Much like martial cultivators used Po-Shattering Pills to break through major barriers, demon cultivators needed Blood Demon Pills to reach the transcendent tier.

The demonic transcendent tier was called Excess Desire. These pills had to be made by invoking strong carnal cravings, and seizing the essence at the moment of climax.

If the cultivator was male, the “sacrifices” needed to be male too—ideally driven by powerful lust and greed.

This barge, packed with gamblers and loaded with seductive shows, was the perfect hunting ground.

And the timing—Mid-Autumn Festival—was ideal. Tens of thousands flocked to the Peony Pool for festivities. Only tonight could they gather this many easy-to-manipulate targets.

Realizing this, Xie Jinhuan’s expression darkened. He cautiously scanned his surroundings:

“Blood Demon Pills contain the soul essence of the victim. Their effects vanish in three days—so they’re usually consumed right # Nоvеlight # after refining. Does that mean there’s a peak First Grade demon master aboard?”

Ye Hongshang shook her head:

“Cross the river and it’s Jingzhao Prefecture. No demon of that level would risk exposure. This group’s likely just minions—here to help refine the pills.”

Xie Jinhuan finally relaxed a little, knowing there wasn’t a top-tier monster on board. Then a thought struck him:

After the chaos caused by the Witch Sect, powerful demon cultivators in Great Qian had become rare. He hadn’t even seen a transcendent-tier demon yet.

But a First Grade demon, though not quite transcendent, could still unleash a bloodstorm like the one at Zihui Mountain—if they really pushed their limits.

And in a place as small as Danyang, there couldn’t be two transcendent-tier monsters running around...

Which meant, if this demonic scheme got exposed, they could just blame the Zihui incident on this group. Once the court started tracing it back, he’d be in the clear!

That thought perked him right up. He turned toward the riverbank, intending to find soldiers or constables to alert.

But just then, Ye Hongshang—still watching the situation—suddenly looked up and warned:

“Careful!”

Xie Jinhuan snapped back to attention. Without hesitation, he flipped into a nearby window—just as a strange sound rang out from above:

“Fwoo~...”

A bizarre whistle sliced through the upper corridors. The moment Xie Jinhuan heard it, he felt as if struck by a hammer—his head spun, his limbs wobbled. He nearly collapsed.

But in the nick of time, he pushed forward like a thunderbolt, diving into the thick crowd below.

Whoosh whoosh—!

Two figures landed outside the great hall’s windows.

Taishu Dan wore a heavy, dark green cloak and leaned on a cane of twisted vinewood. His gaze swept the crowd below, brows furrowed.

He Can, ghost umbrella in hand, landed beside him and scanned the crowd, frowning:

“Someone was just here?”

“There was.”

Taishu Dan looked across the packed floor. It was too chaotic to pinpoint anyone suspicious. After a pause, he said:

“Their perception exceeds even mine, but their cultivation isn’t high. They’re probably carrying some kind of detection artifact.”

He Can looked back toward the distant shore:

“We’re too close to the Peony Pool. The flower toxin hasn’t fully taken hold. It’s not a good time to act. What now?”

“Proceed as planned. I’ll stay here and watch. If he doesn’t surface, he’ll die inside. He’ll show himself sooner or later.”

...

“Two-three-three, bet big, lose small!”

“Nice one!”

“Hey, beauty! Over here!”

The ship’s hall was ablaze with light. The drums pounded wildly, stirring up lust, greed, and frenzy—reaching a near-manic pitch.

Xie Jinhuan buried himself deep in the crowd, like plunging into a sea of bodies at a nightclub. The scent of wine, smoke, and something primal filled his nose, making his blood stir.

Above, the masked “dancer” occasionally swung past overhead.

But Xie Jinhuan had no time to look. Fighting off the throbbing headache from that whistle, he stayed hidden and whispered:

“What the hell was that?”

“Old guy in the cloak blew a whistle. Probably the ringleader.”

One whistle did that to me?!”

When Xie Jinhuan was attacked by ghost shamans on Rooster Crest Ridge, their techniques had been a bit messy. But this—this felt like taking a club straight to the skull.

He gaped in disbelief:

“What’s his cultivation?”

“Mid-Third Grade. Mixed-path—both witchcraft and demonic arts. Has puppets too.”

Before losing his memory, Xie Jinhuan was only Eighth Grade—he didn’t know much about the upper ranks. He asked:

“I’m peak Fourth Grade. He’s mid-Third. Is the gap really that wide?”

Ye Hongshang explained:

“There’s a vast chasm between Third and Fourth. In witchcraft, Third Grade and up are called Spirit Mediums. They can attack your soul directly. You haven’t reached that tier—you’ve got no defense against it. That kind of gap is normal.”

Since waking in the Demon Suppression Tomb, Xie Jinhuan hadn’t faced an opponent clearly stronger than him—until now. He calmed himself and asked:

“Any chance to kill him?”

Ye Hongshang hadn’t expected that. Her man had just been sucker-punched by a clearly superior foe, and the first thing on his mind was how to kill the guy. After a quick scan, she replied:

“Unlikely. You can’t defend against his curses. Plus, he’s got a whole team helping him. Best to break out and get reinforcements.

“He wants to finish refining Blood Demon Pills. The Mad Corpse Blossom poison’s already in play—he can’t stop now. Once it activates, he’ll be forced to stay and manage the ritual. I’ll stir up some chaos for you. You make your escape.”

Knowing the odds weren’t in his favor, Xie Jinhuan stopped pressing. He shrank deeper into the crowd, carefully waiting for the perfect moment—