But what struck Zhou Huan most was the sight of those Japanese individuals being escorted away by three priests, their vehicles rushing out of the airport in haste.

Zhou Huan and his companions followed in two cars, slowly trailing the others out of the airport. Along the main road, the cars headed toward the outskirts of the city. They stopped at a small town and checked into a hotel. After getting out, the group followed the private investigators upstairs.

Their rooms were booked in Suite 999, a sprawling presidential suite, clearly arranged by Mr. Wang. Upon entering, the room was filled with specialized equipment used by private investigators: projectors, binoculars, and various cameras. Most notable was the projection screen, spanning a massive eight meters wide, set up in the main living area of the suite.

"Detective Billy, you truly are professionals," Mr. Wang remarked upon seeing the setup as he stepped inside, genuine admiration in his voice.

Among the two private investigators, a short, fair-haired Chinese man spoke up: "Mr. Wang, you flatter me. Back in the day, you were the one who helped me set all this up. Without you, I might have starved to death here. Now that you’ve asked, I have to pull out all my best assets to show you."

"Excellent. Let's go inside and settle in first. After such a long flight, we should rest a bit," Mr. Wang, the mastermind of the operation, was hosting, making this his domain. He felt obliged to act the host.

Zhou Huan yielded slightly, then entered with Dongzi, Xiaoling, and the two men Mr. Wang had brought, taking their seats.

Turning back, Mr. Wang called out, "Billy, where are the other investigators? I’ll host a dinner for them tonight, and afterward, we can discuss this matter thoroughly."

After giving instructions, Zhou Huan found his own accommodations with Mr. Wang and the others. After all, the presidential suite was solely for meetings; resting there was only temporary. Before their arrival, the investigators had already secured three separate rooms for them. Thus, everyone returned to their assigned quarters to attend to their own affairs.

Not long after, Zhou Huan drifted off to sleep, with Yang Xiaoling lying beside him.

After an indeterminate amount of time, a knock sounded on Zhou Huan’s door. He rolled around sluggishly a few times before finally pushing himself upright with a groan.

He was clearly exhausted; he hadn't rested properly in days, constantly dealing with the dead and the spectral world.

"Who is it?" Yang Xiaoling’s drowsy voice inquired from outside the door.

"Master Zhou, I am Chairman Wang's secretary. He wanted me to check if you were awake," replied a woman outside, her voice carrying at least an eight-plus level of intensity that made Yang Xiaoling’s nerves tingle.

Yang Xiaoling nudged Zhou Huan: "Brother Huan, get up. Mr. Wang is looking for you. It seems the detectives have all arrived. What do you think?"

"Alright..." Zhou Huan drew out the syllable, finally managing to sit up. "You go back first. I’ll get ready and be right there." With that, Zhou Huan stood up. Yang Xiaoling, still half-undressed, didn't mind her own state; she just helped Zhou Huan put on his clothes before dressing herself.

After washing up, the pair left their guest room and headed straight for Suite 999. Entering, they found a large table already set with a Chinese banquet, leaving the two main seats for Zhou Huan and Yang Xiaoling.

"Come, come, everyone, let's get acquainted. This is the person I often mention to you, the main player in this whole affair: Master Zhou Huan." Mr. Wang rose to introduce him as Zhou Huan entered.

Zhou Huan was visibly more spirited; the short rest had significantly restored his energy. He bowed to everyone: "Thank you all for lending a hand here. You’ve paved the way considerably for me to handle this event."

"Master Zhou is too kind. You are the one who needs to lead this performance; you are the protagonist. We are merely here for support," the others replied politely before they sat down to eat.

Dongzi sat to Yang Xiaoling's left. Upon hearing the feast had started, he first observed everyone’s expression, then began to devour his food ravenously. His appetite was so astonishing it rendered everyone speechless.

Billy sat beside Mr. Wang and quietly asked, "Brother Wang, who is this?"

"This is Master Zhou's most cherished disciple, practically his eighth brother. Their bond is the strongest. However, in a setting like this, he really isn't suited to participate. The man is too sincere and straightforward, though perhaps a bit stubborn and hot-tempered," Mr. Wang explained.

Billy glanced at Dongzi, feeling a slight tremor within. Seeing how Dongzi ate, he felt a wave of apprehension. For someone to consume food like that and yet not gain weight—surely all that strength must have sunk deep into his bones. He then looked at Zhou Huan and pushed the plate in front of him toward Dongzi.

"Here, brother, eat slowly. There’s plenty more." Hearing Billy say this, everyone present paused to watch Zhou Huan eat, and suddenly the entire room fell silent, all eyes fixed on Dongzi’s ferocious eating style.

As Dongzi ate, he suddenly became aware that everyone was watching him. He paused his chopsticks and softly asked, "Everyone, please eat. Why are you all looking at me?"

"Oh, everyone, please continue eating. Dongzi is my younger brother, sort of my apprentice too. He's always like this. Please don't mind him," Zhou Huan smoothed things over for Dongzi. Then, everyone resumed drinking and toasting, and the atmosphere quickly became lively again.

After consuming a massive amount, Dongzi became extremely thirsty. He grabbed a bottle of something labeled "Xio-lo" and downed it in large gulps. Strangely, the man didn't seem to taste the alcohol or find the foreign beer too strong.

Finishing that entire bottle terrified those around him. What kind of creature was this man built from? He was truly extraordinary.

Dongzi managed a silly grin at the group, feeling his vision blur. A rumbling started deep in his stomach, and a warm tide surged upward, right to the back of his throat.

"Excuse me, I’m going to throw up!" As soon as Dongzi said this, one of the bodyguards Mr. Wang had brought immediately helped him up and rushed toward the restroom outside the main room. Since the suite's lavatory was right next to the hall, it seemed inappropriate for him to vomit there while everyone was eating.

With Dongzi gone, those remaining erupted into laughter. Billy spoke first: "Master Zhou, your disciple is very candid, very interesting. I like dealing with people exactly like him, absolutely."

"It's nothing, he’s just like that. Don't take offense, don't be put off. It was wrong of him to spoil everyone's good mood," Zhou Huan replied politely.

At the table, they discussed the mission to find the journalist. Zhou Huan then briefly explained the materials he had brought, leading to lively debate among the group.

Dongzi, accompanied by the bodyguard, was heaving in the restroom for quite a while. Finally, after emptying his stomach, he felt dizzy, unable to distinguish north from south. Leaning on the bodyguard, he suddenly let out a splash, vomiting all over the man. This time, the bodyguard was genuinely agitated.

"Brother Dong, what are you doing?" Finally, out of concern for appearances, he looked at Dongzi, then shouted, "You stay right here and don't wander off. I'll be back to get you shortly."

While he spoke, the bodyguard returned to the main room to change. Dongzi, seeing the man leave, wobbled out of the restroom. Curiously, he couldn't find the way he came. Everything appeared doubled, everything was a mess.

"Odd, which way did I come from?" He swayed, looking left, then right. "Right, it was the right side." He staggered, leaning against the wall, taking difficult steps: "Damn it, this foreign light beer is potent! Just one bottle and I’m out of it. It's not nearly as good as Chinese yellow beer; I can drink bottles of that without issue!" Dongzi babbled nonsense as he slowly reached the end of the hallway. He looked up at the room number: three nines—and pushed the door open.

The poor soul stumbled immediately upon entering and collapsed to the floor. Someone inside rushed out to help him up. Dongzi looked up, his vision swimming, muttering, "Hey, don't move me, I'm fine, I can get up myself." When he finally managed to stand, he opened his mouth and shouted, "Brother, I'm fine, I'm fine, don't worry!" But the moment the words left his lips, he saw a gleaming, sharp blade pressed against his throat, a chilling coldness piercing straight into his heart.