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This Girl Prefers Demonic Cultivation - Chapter 2
🕑 Added 2024-12-02 13:25:57 +0000 UTCChapter 2
The stench of silver and copper mixed with desperate sweat filled the bank. Like pigs lining up for slaughter. Lin Yue watched the endless stream of workers shuffling forward to make their deposits and withdrawals.
Wooden partitions divided the space into narrow channels, each leading to a barred window where tellers peered down at their victims. Bored guards maintained order with practiced indifference, hands resting on sword hilts.
She glanced over her shoulder.
The civil servant from the magistrate stood by the door, gripping the handles of the creaky wooden wheelchair where Xue slumped unconscious. Lucky break finding that.
The magistrate’s office rarely bothered with accommodations for the disabled or unconscious—their budget focused on more pressing matters, like polishing their fancy brass door knockers.
“Where did you steal this?” The teller’s lips curled as he examined her payment token.
Lin Yue met his gaze. “Issued today. For a bounty. To me.”
“You?” The teller snorted. “You don’t look capable of claiming any bounty.”
“Don’t you get paid per transaction? You don’t look capable of paying the fees for a notarized confirmation or how long it would take.” Lin Yue leaned forward. “Or the fine for interfering with an official civil affairs payment token?”
The teller muttered something under his breath and disappeared behind the metal bars.
The teller returned and slapped two gold coins onto the counter. The metallic clang echoed through the bank. Half bounty for a dead mark. Figures. Still, she had never seen this much wealth in one place since waking up in Big City.
Gold’s too conspicuous. The bright metal would attract every thief and cutthroat within sight. Even the most incompetent pickpocket would risk a guard’s blade for real gold.
“Convert it to silver.” Lin Yue pushed the coins back.
The teller sneered. “Get lost, street rat.”
“I said silver.” She kept her voice level, cold.
A greasy smile spread across the teller’s face as he extended his hand toward the coins. “There’s a fee for that.”
Lin Yue snatched his wrist. “How much?”
“Ten percent.” The teller’s grin widened, revealing tea-stained teeth.
Bastard. The robbery had already begun, and she hadn’t even left the bank. Lin Yue slid one gold coin across the counter, pocketing the other. “Fine.”
The teller dropped nine stacks of ten silver coins onto the counter. Each one clinked against the wood with the weight of lost potential. Lin Yue swept them into her purse, ignoring his expectant stare. Like hell I’m opening an account here.
The banks in Big City operated like legalized theft—negative interest rates meant watching your money vanish week by week. Trading pickpockets for bank fees just meant choosing between a fast death and a slow one. At least pickpockets are honest about stealing.
She snorted at the warning placard announcing death sentences for thieving tellers. Same risks, different uniforms. A pickpocket risked losing hands, while bank employees risked necks. The end result stayed the same—someone’s wealth vanishing into someone else’s pocket.
At the door, the civil servant blocked her path. “One silver for disabled services.” He patted the wheelchair’s handle where Xue slumped. “Otherwise, the brothels always need fresh meat.”
Lin Yue studied his cheap cotton robes. Another parasite. “Quarter silver’s the going rate for scrawny street rats. You want a full coin?” She tapped the wheelchair’s arm. “Keep pushing. We’ve got places to be.”
The rhythmic squeak of wheelchair wheels followed Lin Yue down the crowded street. Like a lost puppy following the smell of meat. She navigated to Inn Street’s afternoon crowd, past rows of established merchants hawking overpriced wares from spotless storefronts.
Sharp-eyed shopkeepers tracked every passerby, ready to sound alarms at the first sign of theft. Perfect hunting ground for pickpockets—if you enjoyed prison food. The street’s infamous security kept the riffraff away and the prices high.
The inns lined both sides of the cobblestone road, each boasting proper locks and armed guards—a stark contrast to the slum’s “establishments” where a few coins bought access to any room. Amazing how not getting assaulted in your sleep counts as a luxury.
Lin Yue steered toward a corner inn where four streets intersected. The constant flow of traffic provided perfect cover, both now and for future escapes. Merchants, travelers, and locals blended into an endless stream of potential distractions.
The inn’s wooden door swung open. The aroma of roasted meat and fresh bread struck like a physical blow—real food, not the moldy scraps from the slums. Her stomach cramped at the smell.
A mountain of muscle moved to block her path. The bouncer’s scarred face twisted into a snarl. “Get out.” He planted his feet wide, arms crossed.
The civil servant wheeled Xue through the doorway behind Lin Yue. Perfect timing. She turned back to the bouncer and raised an eyebrow.
“We’re paying customers.” Lin Yue patted her coin purse. The silver pieces clinked together.
The bouncer stepped aside with a grunt.
Behind the bar, a thin man with greying temples wiped down the counter with practiced strokes. He glanced up at her. “We don’t serve gutter rats.”
Lin Yue strode to the counter and slammed two silver coins onto the polished wood. “Everyone bows to silver, though, right?”
The innkeeper’s eyes narrowed as he studied the coins. “Week’s payment up front.”
Typical. Lin Yue counted out five more coins and lined them up. “Good?”
“Silver for a meal too.” The innkeeper nodded toward the kitchen. The aroma of roasted meat wafted through the air, making Lin Yue’s mouth water. I never want to eat a rat on a skewer again.
She placed another coin on the counter. “Send it to the room.”
The innkeeper snatched up the coins and grabbed a key from the wall. “Follow me.”
The civil servant huffed behind her. “You expect me to carry her up the stairs too?”
“You made it this far.” Lin Yue jingled her purse. “And I’m paying you an entire silver.”
He sighed and lifted Xue into his arms. He glanced at the bouncer. “Make sure this doesn’t walk away, okay?” He shook the wheelchair handle. “Government property.”
The bouncer nodded. “Sure.”
Lin Yue followed up the stairs. She wanted to set the odds of it being there when he got back at 50/50 but stopped herself. It was an Inn Street place. It would be safe, right?
Not her problem either way, though.
The narrow staircase opened to a long hallway lined with identical wooden doors. Lin Yue counted them—twenty rooms total. The window at the hall’s end offered a clear view of the street below and a potential escape route.
The innkeeper demonstrated the lock mechanism with practiced efficiency. “Ten silver if you lose it.” He twisted the key, showing the double-turn security feature.
Lin Yue stepped into the room. A single bed occupied most of the space, accompanied by a basic washstand and wooden chair and short table. The mattress looked stuffed with actual cotton instead of moldy straw. Worth the silver? For actual sleep without rats? Hell yes.
The civil servant deposited Xue onto the bed. Lin Yue tossed him the promised silver coin. He snatched it mid-air and retreated toward the door.
“Food’ll be up soon as it’s ready.” The innkeeper tapped the door. “Maid knocks—she don’t got keys. Check through here first.” He pointed to a small peephole drilled into the wood.
“Got it.” Lin Yue suppressed a grin. An actual peephole? Fancy. Metal bars crossed the window too—proper security against both entry and exit. Though exit might matter more later.
Lin Yue pressed two fingers against Xue’s neck, checking her pulse. Still steady, but why hadn’t she woken? The other marks had stirred almost immediately, cursing and screaming about demons.
An intense itch spread across Lin Yue’s chest. She yanked off her shirt and unwound her breast wrap. Black patches spread across her skin like spilled ink. What did that cultivator do?
No point worrying about demon-cultivator tattoos right now. Lin Yue re-wrapped her chest and pulled her shirt back on. The gang would send hunters soon enough—they let no one escape without consequences.
Going back meant handing over the money. Rather take my chances with mysterious black patches.
A soft knock echoed through the room. Lin Yue pressed her eye to the peephole. A maid balanced a wooden tray laden with steaming dishes. The aroma of braised pork and spices seeped through the door’s cracks.
Lin Yue unlocked the door. “Thanks.” She grabbed the tray and retreated inside, engaging both locks.
The tray held small portions of five different dishes. Lin Yue settled at the table and gripped her chopsticks. Slow. Savor it. She forced herself to take measured bites of the braised pork belly swimming in brown sauce. The meat melted on her tongue, rich with star anise and soy.
Beside it sat a bowl of egg-drop soup, golden strands floating in clear broth. Stir-fried greens glistened with garlic and ginger. A small portion of mapo tofu radiated crimson heat from its blanket of chili oil and numbing peppercorns.
Lin Yue alternated between dishes, letting each distinct flavor linger. No rat meat. No moldy vegetables. Just pure, clean tastes that reminded her what real food meant.
She set aside the steamed mantou bread for Xue. If she wakes up. The soft white bun would keep until then.
Lin Yue stacked the empty dishes on the wooden tray, savoring the lingering taste of real food. She double-checked the locks before heading downstairs, each step creaking beneath her feet.
The kitchen staff accepted the tray with surprising politeness. “Thanks for the meal.” The words felt strange on her tongue—politeness didn’t come naturally anymore.
At the counter, the innkeeper raised an eyebrow.
“My friend might wake up confused.” Lin Yue leaned against the polished wood. “Tell her to stay put until I return.”
The innkeeper grunted.
Lin Yue placed another silver coin on the counter. “For tomorrow’s food. Or if I don’t make it back—” Always plan for failure. “—use it for cheap bread until her stay runs out.”
“Understood.” The innkeeper pocketed the coin with practiced smoothness.
He might even do it. The thought surprised her. Inn Street establishments maintained reputations through reliability, not kindness. Still, silver spoke louder than sympathy.
The bouncer tracked her movement toward the door. Probably counting exits too. Professional paranoia recognized its own kind.
Outside, the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the cobblestones. What a shit show of a day. From morning pick-pocket duty to demon cultivator to banking—each hour had packed enough chaos for a week.
Lin Yue navigated through the thinning crowd. The border between slum and civilization was a physical line where stone buildings gave way to wooden shacks.
The Bounty Hunter’s Tavern squatted in the liminal space, its weathered sign creaking in the breeze. Inside, scarred faces turned to study her entrance. Veterans of violence assessed threat levels while rookies flexed muscles beneath leather armor.
The clerk at the counter narrowed his eyes.
“I want to place a bounty.” Lin Yue kept her voice steady.
Laughter erupted across the tavern. Several hunters slapped their tables, spilling cheap wine.
“Little girl wants to place a bounty?” A scarred man near the counter wiped tears from his eyes. “Did someone steal your doll?”
Lin Yue slammed the gold coin onto the counter. “One gold on Sheng Bo’s head.”
The laughter died. Cups froze midway to mouths. The only sound came from a distant dog barking outside.
Silence really is golden.
The teller snatched up the coin and bit it. He held it to the light, then nodded and stepped out from behind his counter. His boots echoed across the wooden floor as he approached the bounty board.
He found Sheng Bo’s existing notice—a measly one silver bounty. The teller pressed his stamp against the parchment, marking it with the new amount: one gold and one silver.
Chairs scraped across the floor. Every hunter in the tavern stood, drained their cups, and filed out the door. Not a single one glanced at her. Professional courtesy. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you bounties.
“Want the confirmation paperwork?” The teller asked.
“No need.” Lin Yue smiled. Let the Tiger Gang burn. Sheng Bo would pull every member he could find to himself for protection. Before the night was over, the streets would run red—and not with Lin Yue’s blood.
The setting sun painted the street in shades of amber. She spotted a tailor’s shop on the way back to the inn, its window displaying colored robes. Time to stop looking like something the cat dragged in.
Lin Yue ran her fingers across the fabric bolts displayed in neat rows. The coarse gray-black cotton felt sturdy under her touch—practical, unlike the delicate silks that would tear at the first sign of trouble. A blood-red sash caught her eye, the material thick enough to withstand daily wear but still maintaining a subtle sheen.
“This.” She pointed to her selections. “Enough for two sets.”
The tailor measured the fabric with practiced efficiency. “For you and...”
“My sister.” The lie slipped out smoothly. Lin Yue pictured Xue’s small frame. “She’s about this tall.” She held her hand at waist height.
If Xue doesn’t wake up, the extra fabric won’t go to waste. There would be enough cloth for undergarments with minimal adjustments.
“Add these.” She grabbed a pair of cotton socks and simple cloth shoes. The leather soles looked thick enough to last through several months of running. Better than bleeding feet.
The tailor bundled everything together. “Ten silver.”
Lin Yue counted out the coins without haggling. The price matched the quality—fair enough for Inn Street. She traced the stumps where her left pinky and ring finger used to be, remembering the guard’s blade. These would be the nicest clothes she’d owned since that day.
“When can you start?” she asked.
The tailor folded the last piece of fabric. “One hour.”
Lin Yue leaned against the doorframe, watching the tailor’s skilled hands cut, stitch, and fold each garment faster than she thought possible without a modern sewing machine. The sharp scent of new cotton filled the shop, mixing with traces of dye and leather.
The bundle landed on the counter with a soft thump. Lin Yue snatched it up, tucking it under her arm.
Outside, lantern lighters moved between the street poles in practiced patterns. Their long poles extended upward, touching wicks to oil-soaked cotton. Each flame bloomed against the darkening sky, casting pools of amber light across the cobblestones.
Along the way back to her inn, the steady rhythm of metal striking metal echoed down the street. A blacksmith working late?
She traced the sound to a small forge tucked between two larger shops. Heat radiated from the doorway as a broad-shouldered man hammered patterns into glowing steel. Finished blades lined the walls, their edges gleaming in the forge light.
“Looking for something specific?” The blacksmith dunked the red-hot metal into a water barrel. Steam hissed upward.
Lin Yue pointed to a simple knife with a clean edge. “How much?”
“Five silver.” He lifted it from its rack. “Folded steel. Won’t need sharpening for months with proper care.”
The blade balanced perfectly in her palm. No fancy decorations or wrapped handles—just pure functionality. The blacksmith tossed her a thumb-sized vial. “Blade oil. Free with purchase.”
Lin Yue counted out the silver. The knife disappeared into her waist sash, its weight reassuring against her skin. Better than any fancy robe. Sharp steel meant survival.
The street lanterns painted Inn Street in deep shadows and the inn’s windows glowed with warm lamplight. No ambush waited in the doorway. No Tiger Gang thugs lurked in corners.
The bouncer barely glanced up as she passed. The flight of creaking stairs led to her room where Xue still lay motionless on the bed, breathing steadily.
She double-checked the locks and window bars. Her old knife slid under her pillow, ready for quick access.
Maybe just a quick rest...
An intense itch jolted Lin Yue awake.
She untangled herself from Xue’s sleeping form and stumbled toward the washstand. The itch transformed into searing pain across her chest.
She yanked off her clothes. The black markings had spread, covering most of her torso in intricate patterns. What the actual fuck? She dragged her nails across the marks but succeeded only in drawing blood. The tattoo remained unbroken.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Lin Yue grabbed the washcloth and dunked it in the basin. The cold water did nothing to soothe the burning sensation.
The ink rippled beneath her skin. Lin Yue dropped the cloth, biting back a scream as the markings flowed like a liquid shadow up her collarbone. The sensation crawled up her neck, raising every hair on her body.
Something tugged at her scalp. Her hair lifted on its own, defying gravity as smoky tendrils coalesced into a serpentine form. A dragon snake materialized—scales formed from pure darkness, red eyes blazing like hot coals. It twisted in the air to face her.
“Feed me.” The dragon’s voice ordered.
“What the fuck are you?” Lin Yue backed against the wall.
The dragon’s eyes flared brighter. “Not what—who! I am the mighty Shadow Dragon God, you unworthy minion!”
His smoky form curled through the air, pointing toward Xue’s sleeping figure. “Take her soul. Feed your god.”
Lin Yue’s fist connected with the dragon’s snout. The solid impact sent shockwaves up her arm as the shadowy creature yelped and tumbled through the air, crashing onto the wooden floor.
“You insolent—how dare you strike a god!” The dragon writhed on the floorboards.
Lin Yue flexed her stinging knuckles. “What kind of pathetic deity’s first words are ‘murder a seven-year-old’?”
She yanked her new knife from her waist and slashed at the dragon. The blade passed through his smoky form without resistance, like cutting through fog. Well, that’s useless.
The dragon dodged a second punch. “I’m starving! Do you know how long I’ve been trapped in that bastard’s body?”
“Starve to death then,” Lin Yue said.
“What is wrong with you?” The dragon’s red eyes blazed brighter. “Most humans would be honored to host a divine being! I offer you immortality!”
“Honored?” Lin Yue muttered. “Some demon-worshipping asshole cursed me with an itchy magic tattoo that spawns hallucinations, and Xue won’t wake up.”
“Hallucination?” The dragon snorted smoke. “I’m quite real. And the girl won’t wake because I’ve been nibbling on her soul while waiting for you to feed me properly.”
Lin Yue lunged forward. Her fingers closed around the dragon’s serpentine form—solid and cold like metal left in shade. She slammed her other fist into his face repeatedly, each impact punctuated by a satisfying thud.
“You—” Punch “Stay—” Punch “Away—” Punch “From—” Punch “Her!”
Comments
Jonathan Wint
Good to establish boundaries in a marriage! 😁
JHD
I realy like the big sister energy she has.
Spencer Hansen
Lol punching the dragon god in the face.
Cha0sniper
"Local street rat too angry after repeatedly punching Dragon God in face" XD
Lisfer
Some souls will not be missed.
Shelbo
Am I thinking the currency right where 1000 taels to a sliver, 100 sliver to a gold and so on?
CringeWorthyStudios
Best demonic cultivator I’ve ever seen. 10/10 definitely will read again. Thanks for the chapter!
