Chapter 125: Encountering He Moli Again

The next day.

The sky was clear, without a single cloud.

At the Disaster Association branch building, Cheng Feng stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the 16th floor. The elevator ascended faster than he had anticipated. The digital display flickered rapidly, and in no time, he arrived at the top floor.

Since he was setting out for Red Moon City, even if the journey went smoothly, it would likely take at least half a month. As a member of the Disaster Association, he naturally needed to request a long leave of absence before departing for such an extended period away from Winterfall City.

Cheng Feng walked down the corridor toward the office. It was still early, so the staff members were scattered and few. Suddenly, a tall, graceful figure appeared ahead, walking straight toward him. The sharp, rhythmic clicking of her high heels against the floor echoed in his ears.

Who was it?

Cheng Feng glanced up, and upon recognizing the woman, his pupils constricted slightly. She had long black hair secured with a white headband, and her features were exquisitely beautiful. She wore a cyan trench coat over her tall, slender frame, paired with elegant, sophisticated high heels.

He Mo Li? Why was she here?

Cheng Feng felt a pang of guilt toward her; at this moment, he certainly did not wish to run into her. He shifted his gaze away as imperceptibly as possible and continued walking, having no intention of greeting her. He hoped that He Mo Li would also pretend not to recognize him and that they could simply pass by each other in silence. They weren't particularly close anyway, having only had the fortune to collaborate on a single mission in the past, so a greeting was unnecessary.

Cheng Feng recalled that several days ago, when the "Black Yaksha Subjugation" began, he had put on the white mask given to him by the shopkeeper, donned his black trench coat, and left the encirclement with Xue Ju and the other cat demons. That was when he had encountered He Mo Li. She had been guarding the final perimeter checkpoint and, mistaking the masked Cheng Feng for one of the Black Yaksha’s subordinates—a monster trying to escape—had attempted to eliminate him.

Because Cheng Feng was not her match in terms of raw strength, he had been forced to activate his bloodline power to defeat her. After unleashing the formidable power of a vampire, he had indeed easily defeated He Mo Li, but in his berserk state, he had nearly killed her.

After the battle, Cheng Feng learned that He Mo Li had suffered severe head trauma. Such a grave injury would have been fatal for an ordinary person. Although, as an elite demon hunter, her physical constitution was far superior, she had still ended up in a coma for two full days. Even now, her injuries had not fully healed.

Cheng Feng did not know how to handle the situation; he certainly couldn't just apologize to her. If he were to proactively bring up that misunderstanding, the fact that he was the man in the black mask would be exposed. Thus, he wanted to avoid facing her for the time being.

Just as he was about to brush past her, He Mo Li’s gaze suddenly shifted toward him, and he knew he was in trouble.

"Wait a moment."

He Mo Li stopped in her tracks, her beautiful eyes fixed on Cheng Feng as she called out to him. Cheng Feng reined in his complex emotions, looked at her calmly, and asked in a cool tone, "He Mo Li, is something the matter?"

"Of course there is."

A flicker of hostility appeared in He Mo Li's eyes, and her voice carried a deep sense of suspicion. "Didn't we meet once, two days ago?"

"Did we?" Cheng Feng wore an expression of complete ignorance; when it came to acting, he was quite skilled.

He Mo Li narrowed her eyes slightly and asked coldly, "If I may be so bold, where were you a few days ago, when the Black Yaksha subjugation began?"

"Why are you asking me about that so out of the blue?" Cheng Feng asked, feigning confusion. Internally, however, he was startled. Had she noticed something? Or perhaps she had seen his face before she lost consciousness that day?

"Please answer me," He Mo Li said, her gaze firm.

"Why are you so curious about this?" Cheng Feng asked with a strange look. "I participated in the battle to subjugate the Black Yaksha that day. Is there a problem? If you have any doubts, you can ask the other association members who were there; they all saw me."

Although he had arrived later, he had indeed reached the battlefield, and every demon hunter present had seen him. That much evidence was solid.

"Is that so?"

He Mo Li furrowed her elegant brows slightly. Unable to detect any cracks in Cheng Feng's micro-expressions, she couldn't help but wonder if she had been mistaken.

"Is there anything else?" Cheng Feng asked flatly.

"No, that's all..." He Mo Li said with a hint of apology. "Sorry for wasting your time."

"It's no matter..." Cheng Feng did not linger and walked past her.

He Mo Li remained where she was, turning slightly to glance in the direction Cheng Feng had departed. Her gaze still held a trace of suspicion as her thoughts raced. She remembered that day, while fighting the man in the black mask, she had been outmatched and slammed hard against a wall. As her consciousness faded into a blur, she had vaguely caught a glimpse of the masked man’s true face.

However, due to the severe head injury, when she woke up in the infirmary, she couldn't clearly recall the identity of the masked man, which filled her with intense frustration. She only remembered one thing: the man in the black mask was someone she knew.

Just now, when she bumped into Cheng Feng, she had suddenly felt a sharp sting in her head and had a very vivid, inexplicable feeling that Cheng Feng was the monster disguised as the man in the black mask—the very monster who had gravely injured her that day. But thinking about it carefully, the masked man had possessed a cold, chilling voice, while Cheng Feng’s voice was clear and resonant. The difference between the two was quite significant. Perhaps she really had mistaken him for someone else.

With this thought, she slowly withdrew her gaze and continued on her way. The two walked in opposite directions down the long corridor.

Having finally shaken off He Mo Li, Cheng Feng breathed a silent sigh of relief. She was a sensitive woman; if she suspected he was the masked man and intentionally provoked him into a fight, he would have no choice but to defend himself. If they were to clash, she might recognize that his swordsmanship was identical to that of the masked man, thereby confirming that Cheng Feng was the vampiric monster from that day. The consequences of that would be unimaginable.

Having narrowly escaped, he cleared his mind and arrived at the office door. Seeing that it was ajar, he stepped inside.

"Director, I need to request leave..."

As soon as he entered, he realized the Director was not there. Instead, he saw a man and a woman. One was a sexy woman in business attire, likely the secretary. The other was an elderly man with graying hair and a kindly expression—the Chairman of the Disaster Association, Lu Qinghai.

"Brother Shen!"

"Hm!"

Shen Changqing walked along the road, exchanging nods or greetings with those he knew. But regardless of who they were, no one had any excess expression on their faces, as if they were indifferent to everything.

Shen Changqing had grown accustomed to this. Because this was the Demon Suppression Division, an institution dedicated to maintaining the stability of the Great Qin Empire, its primary duty was to slay demons, ghosts, and monsters, though they had other side responsibilities as well.

It could be said that every person in the Demon Suppression Division had blood on their hands. When one becomes accustomed to life and death, they naturally grow indifferent to many things. When he first arrived in this world, Shen Changqing had found it difficult to adapt, but over time, he had become used to it.

The Demon Suppression Division was vast. Those who remained there were either powerful experts or individuals with the potential to become one. Shen Changqing belonged to the latter.

The division was divided into two roles: the Suppressors and the Demon Slayers. Anyone who joined the division started as a low-level Demon Slayer and worked their way up, hoping to eventually become a Suppressor. Shen Changqing's predecessor had been a trainee Demon Slayer, the lowest rank among them.

With his predecessor's memories, he was very familiar with the environment of the Demon Suppression Division. It didn't take long for him to stop in front of a pavilion. Unlike the rest of the division, which was filled with a murderous aura, this pavilion stood out like a crane in a flock of chickens, exuding a unique tranquility amidst the blood-soaked atmosphere of the Demon Suppression Division.

The doors of the pavilion were open, and people occasionally walked in and out. Shen Changqing hesitated for only a moment before stepping inside.

The environment shifted instantly upon entering. A scent of ink mixed with a faint smell of blood wafted toward him, causing him to frown instinctively, though he quickly relaxed. The scent of blood on everyone in the Demon Suppression Division was something that could almost never be washed away.