At the border between the western district and the lower city of Saint Callen, beneath the towering factory complexes, Chief Inspector Raymond led his police team in a rigorous door-to-door inspection.
Officer Leon glanced at the furious factory owners gathered at the gates and quietly leaned toward Raymond. "Chief Inspector Raymond, was this really an order from the Second Prince? I thought he had no authority to issue direct commands to the police..."
Raymond shot the young officer a stern look. "Just do as you're told. Stop asking unnecessary questions!"
With no choice, Leon stepped forward to negotiate with the factory owners.
"What the hell are you people doing? Do you have any idea how much it costs to shut down the machines for even a single day?"
"His Majesty himself declared that no factories in the city can halt production during wartime! Who do you think you are, barging in like this?"
"Get your superior over here! My son-in-law is an imperial councilor—do you even know who you're dealing with?"
The sudden, forceful demand from the police to shut down numerous factories immediately sparked outrage.
Leon could only sigh in frustration. The owners were utterly uncooperative, each one boasting connections more impressive than the last. Eventually, he had no choice but to call over Raymond, the officer in charge.
Raymond strode forward with an impatient scowl. "Enough! So what if you lose a bit of profit? Let me make this clear—this is an order from His Highness, the Second Prince!"
"Then at least give us a reason, Inspector!"
"It's Chief Inspector Raymond!" Leon straightened his back, emboldened by Raymond's presence.
A murmur of disdain rippled through the crowd. "Look at him, acting all high and mighty. Just the Second Prince's lapdog..."
"A reason?" Raymond scoffed. "Fine, I'll tell you."
He swept his gaze across the crowd, his expression unyielding. "During the expo, assassins infiltrated the capital, hiding among the carriages in an attempt to kill His Majesty! The Emperor is severely wounded—his condition critical! Under these circumstances, His Highness the Second Prince has no choice but to lock down the city. Every district of Saint Callen is now under strict martial law! Every household, every factory, will be searched!"
"Now, do you understand?"
His announcement sent a wave of panic through the crowd. Factory owners, workers, and even nearby onlookers exchanged uneasy glances.
"I heard about what happened in Whitechapel District. The city garrison was fully mobilized—gunfire and explosions nonstop..."
"Maybe we should shut down for now... Mark my words, Saint Callen is about to change hands..."
Whispers of fear spread like wildfire, though a few skeptical voices still lingered.
"Something's off. Since when do the city garrison and police answer to the Second Prince? Where are the civil officials in all this? It's like the entire military and police force are his private army..."
"Rumor has it—just a rumor—that in the eastern district, the Second Prince has royal mages rounding up anyone who opposes him!"
"Between you and me... this 'assassination attempt' on His Majesty? Might just be the Second Prince's doing..."
"Hey, now that you mention it... this whole scene feels eerily familiar. Remember forty years ago, when the capital was like this? Think about how Emperor Charlton rose to power in his youth..."
"Shh! Keep your voice down! Do you have a death wish?"
...
These dissenting murmurs inevitably reached the ears of some officers. Leon barely dared to breathe—today's events were life-and-death serious. He had a sinking feeling his career under Chief Inspector Raymond was about to meet a swift end.
Though Raymond maintained a cold facade, he was just as uneasy. He had known that accepting Princess Fifth's promotion would drag him into the capital's political quagmire—but he never expected it to happen so soon.
A mere chief inspector, and now he was aiding the Princess in what amounted to a coup? The thought would have been unthinkable before.
Truth be told, he missed the old days—solving cases with Luo Wei, hunting down grotesque monsters. Suddenly, even those hideous creatures seemed far less terrifying than the Princess's political enemies.
As the forced closures continued, unchecked rumors spread like wildfire through the western and lower districts.
Then, an officer hurried over, finding Raymond amidst the chaos.
"Chief Inspector Raymond! Orders from above—halt operations immediately! The Commissioner and the Superintendent are waiting for you in the office. They demand your immediate return!"
Raymond froze. He knew—this was it. The jig was up.
The Superintendent was the Second Prince's man, a longtime rival and personal nemesis.
He took a deep breath and answered grimly, "Understood. I'll head back now."
...
After a swift carriage ride to headquarters, Raymond, flanked by two officers, knocked on the office door.
"Enter."
Inside, the Commissioner and the Superintendent—his direct superiors—fixed him with stern glares.
"Just you." The Superintendent shot a dismissive glance at the officers behind him.
Raymond nodded and shut the door.
"Raymond, what the hell are you playing at?" The Commissioner slammed his fist on the desk. "I ordered you to enforce martial law—not spread rumors about His Majesty's assassination!"
"And that's not all, I hear..." The Superintendent eyed Raymond with suspicion. "Why are you dragging the Second Prince's name into this?" The fool's loose lips were making it seem like the Prince was scheming to seize power.
"What? I barely know the Second Prince. Why would I mention him?" Raymond feigned innocence.
"Still lying?" The Superintendent sneered. "You think I don't have eyes in your unit? And let's be clear—you might not know the Second Prince, but..."
His lips curled into a mocking grin. "You're awfully close to the Fifth Princess, aren't you? Was this her idea?"
Raymond stayed silent. There was no point explaining anything to these two now.
"Fine, Raymond. Playing games under my nose?" The Commissioner's voice burned with anger. "Consider yourself suspended. Recall your officers—now!"
The Superintendent smirked, relishing his rival's downfall. "What else did the Fifth Princess order you to do? What's her real plan?"
"Not talking?"
He chuckled darkly. "Treason is punishable by death. Planning to take your secrets to the grave?"
"The only one heading to the grave is you." Raymond shrugged.
"What did you say?"
The Superintendent burst into laughter—but it lasted barely a second.
With a thunderous boom, the office door was blasted open by a terrifying force as Sir Fred threw a punch straight at the Chief Inspector’s head.
Everything happened in an instant. The Commissioner’s mouth fell open as he stared, slow to react, at the Chief Inspector’s headless corpse. Scarlet blood mixed with white brain matter splattered across the entire wall behind him.
“You… you…” He gaped in horror at Sir Fred, who had stormed in, then turned to Raymond before shouting, “Guards! Gua—”
Sir Fred snapped the Commissioner’s neck before he could finish. Another corpse hit the floor.
“Holy hell…” Even Raymond was a little shaken. He wiped blood from his face. “I thought you guys lost your supernatural abilities. How are you still this strong?”
“We lost our powers, not our competence.” Sir Fred shot him a glance. “Even with just combat instincts, it’s enough to deal with fools like you in the police force.”
“No need to be so harsh…” Raymond muttered under his breath, though he was used to it. Back when they worked joint cases, the Special Affairs Department had always looked down on the police, blaming them for slowing things down…
“Who’s the highest-ranking officer left in the station?” Sir Fred asked.
“By order of succession… Commissioner, Chief Inspector, Inspector…” Raymond counted. “Huh. I guess that’d be me now.”
“Good. Saves me trouble.” Sir Fred’s gaze shifted to the office chair. “Congratulations, Commissioner. Take a seat and start giving orders. Once we control the station, manipulating the narrative becomes much easier.”
Raymond gave a half-hearted “got it” but didn’t dare sit in the chair where a man had just died. Instead, he looked out the window at the eerily silent streets.
He muttered again, “This is way bigger than I thought… If we fail, we’re all dead…”
“Luo Wei… You’d better pull through on your end…”
] [Lone Wolf, No Male Gaze] [Protagonist is pursued early on; extreme protagonist-stans, stay away!] The "Carnival Paradise" descends and slowly devours the real world in the form of a game. By chance, Zhu Yan awakens the talent [Roleplay], becoming one of the first beta players. He thought he could develop safely, but after clearing the first instance, he is branded by humanity as the chief culprit behind the game's spread—a traitorous villain. A villain? Who would ever... become one! He'll be the villain! From then on, Zhu Yan is not only a player but also a lackey for the Carnival Paradise. Between the straight path and the crooked path, he chooses the con. With his left hand, he dons the villain's mantle, staging scenes within instances, infuriating players who decry him as a despicable traitor, all while the game happily promotes him. With his right hand, he joins the non-human organization "Fangcun Mountain," which opposes the Carnival Paradise, transforming into a mysterious player who slaughters game bosses, earning cheers of "Long live the expert!" from fellow players. Gradually, Zhu Yan rises to become an S-rank human player in Fangcun Mountain's archives, while also being the Carnival Paradise's certified top game Boss. But when the final war erupts and both major factions place their hopes in him— Players tag his various aliases: "Experts, this offensive depends on you." The Carnival Paradise's supreme Boss throws an arm around his neck: "Bro, you're the iron, I'm the steel; you can't let me down again!"
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"
close your eyes and open them again, only to find yourself transmigrated into the role of a villainous male supporting character. Readers familiar with urban wish-fulfillment novels know that it is only through the relentless antics of the villainous male supporting character that the plot between the male and female leads can progress. As the villainous male supporting character, Long Aotian not only has to bully the female lead, harass the second female lead, and flirt with the third female lead, but he also has to go all out to antagonize the male lead. In the end, when his body is discovered, he is still clutching half a moldy fried dough stick in his hand. Fully aware of the plot, Long Aotian is determined to change his fate, starting with the female lead! In the beginning, the female lead lacks confidence: "Big brother, I hope I didn't scare you?" In the middle, the female lead treads carefully: "Brother Long, please don't hit me, okay?" Later on, the female lead becomes coquettishly clingy: "Aotian, it's time to pay the 'public grain' tonight." Long Aotian's legs go weak, and he feels like crying: "I taught you to be thick-skinned, not shameless!"
