I Can Strengthen Infinitely

Ever since the Ten Constant Attendants disbanded the Seven Stars Supervisory Bureau, Zuo Zonghao had been idle at home, living a leisurely life.

Although Sanhuang later secretly took control of Chang’an, executing all the remaining eunuchs and factions in court, they still forgot to reinstate the Seven Stars Supervisory Bureau, which meant those officials who hadn’t gone out to help quell the rebellion were still waiting at home, waiting for the emperor to restart the Bureau.

Former subordinate Tie Bao came by on his own to report urgent news, describing how, in Great Tang’s Chang’an City, strange beings roamed the nights, harming people, and so far there had already been thirty deaths at the hands of these entities. Clearly, ever since the Bureau was gone, the problem of monsters in the realm had spiraled out of control, growing ever more chaotic.

Tie Bao requested Zuo Zonghao to investigate, and naturally, Zuo Zonghao would not refuse; after all, this had always been his job. Although the Ten Constant Attendants once ruled the Great Tang, empowering traitors and ruining the virtuous, Zuo Zonghao had never lost hope in the empire, always wishing to see the day when such parasites would be wiped out.

Tonight, Zuo Zonghao summoned several former subordinates like Tie Bao to investigate Chang’an City at night, hoping to prevent more wooden men murders from occurring.

With Tie Feiying’s cooperation, he mobilized all the constables in the Divine Capture Hall, posting them at every major and minor street and alley in Chang’an, each equipped with a firework baton that could be set off immediately in case of emergencies to signal distress.

With such a tight net in place, Tie Feiying was sure those bizarre wooden men wouldn’t dare come out and hurt anyone again.

Night was falling deeper and deeper.

The number of pedestrians on the streets dwindled; since such incidents had occurred in Chang’an, rumors had spread from person to person, and after enough time, barely anyone dared to go out at night, fearing for their lives.

At the entrance of every street and dock, there was a constable disguised and lurking, each one watching their surroundings carefully, bodies tense; if anything seemed off, they’d pull the firework baton immediately.

Even constables felt fear, but bringing peace to Chang’an was their duty—there was no escaping it.

Chang’an was never absolutely safe; it was only these constables that quietly erased dangers bit by bit.

"Hic!"

A drunkard hugging a wine jar staggered over from a short distance away, and the constable assigned to this spot immediately became alert at the sight.

The wooden men murders were well known in Chang’an, so for someone to dare go out drinking so late, and to walk home alone even after getting drunk—it was downright bizarre, making anyone suspicious.

The constable gripped the firework baton at his waist tightly, ready to sound the alarm at the slightest sign of trouble.

"Hic!"

"Stop. Who are you?" the constable demanded.

The man shook his wine jar in hand, saying, "None—none of your damn business. What do you want?"

Swaying, he staggered forward a few more steps, finally falling face-first onto the ground.

Gululu!

The wine jar he was hugging rolled forward, coming to rest right at the constable’s feet.

"Aiyo! That hurt like hell," the drunkard wailed theatrically, clutching his nose.

The more the constable watched, the more something felt off, but at least the man hadn’t come too close, so there wasn’t any immediate threat.

Just as the constable was about to pull the firework baton, the wine jar at his feet suddenly moved.

Gululu!

The jar rolled up along the constable’s leg, and before he could react, he felt a sudden pain in his gut. Looking down, he was instantly terrified.

That wine jar—where was it a jar? It was actually a disheveled human head.

The head opened its mouth and bit down hard on the constable’s waist, tearing off a huge chunk of flesh.

"Ahhhhhhh!"

The constable, shocked, tried to pull the firework baton.

But the drunkard moved even faster, leaping up and wrapping his arms tight around the constable.

Crack! Crack!

The constable’s arms broke instantly, losing grip on the firework baton, which clattered to the ground.

"Huff!" The drunkard bit into the constable’s throat, gnawing it clean through.

"Ugh! Sssssss..."

Blood drained away and the constable collapsed dead on the spot.

"Need more—need more..." The drunkard gnawed at the body, growling low.

His eyes gleamed red in the night, just like a bloodthirsty beast.

Zuo Zonghao prowled the pitch-black alleys with a blade in hand, cradling an Exorcism Toad and staring intently at the glazed tray on its back.

At that moment, the tray’s baleful energy reading had reached an astonishing seven hundred.

"The monster is close. Doesn’t seem ordinary at all," Zuo Zonghao muttered, quickening his pace toward a three-way intersection.

It was there he spotted the constable lying on the ground.

At close range, the man’s face was drained pale, totally devoid of life.

"Damn it." Zuo Zonghao’s expression darkened—such an incident occurring even with him on the case was a slap in the face.

He bent down to examine the victim’s wounds; both the abdomen and throat had fatal injuries, and from the bite marks, it seemed the killer was more beast than man.

"A monster?" Zuo Zonghao glanced around, lighting a firestick to inspect. Instantly, he noticed a conspicuous trail of blood on the ground—clearly left by someone. Drawing his blade, Zuo Zonghao hurriedly followed the blood trail into the night.