Paragon Of Sin Chapter 3 - 3: Du Ling

Wei Wuyin reclined at a table, a pot of brewed tea before him. He was the very image of tranquility.

The sect had been informed of the two assassins' deaths. However, several days passed with only a superficial investigation being conducted. Predictably, the inquiry yielded no results. The killers were dismissed as rogue actors operating on their own reconnaissance, supposedly having no connections to any figure within the sect.

Wei Wuyin did not waste his breath or his time demanding a deeper probe. He was fully aware of who had orchestrated the hit and the motives behind it. It was this specific individual who possessed the clout to manipulate a sect investigation into the attempted murder of a core disciple—an event that, under normal circumstances, should have sent shockwaves through the organization.

After all, if a core disciple could be targeted within the sect's own walls, who could possibly feel secure? Such an affront required a swift resolution, and typically, scapegoats would have been identified and publicly executed with extreme haste. Instead, the matter was buried, and he was granted a meager amount of contribution points as a consolation prize from the sect.

It was a reward for the simple act of surviving.

This gesture was a blatant display of mockery and the abuse of power. Someone intended for him to realize that the sect viewed his death as acceptable; that in their eyes, he was trivial and of no consequence.

Ultimately, he chose not to pursue the matter. Even the negligence shown by Du Ling did not provoke his anger. As his thoughts drifted to Du Ling, a sharp memory surfaced.

-----

Ten years and three months in the past.

Red Dove City of the Wei Clan, located in the Zhan Prefecture. A massive crowd had assembled in the central plaza, where a platform dominated the space. A guillotine stood tall, reaching nearly thirty meters into the sky. Fresh blood stained the stock, and a sinister aura permeated the cold air.

The onlookers seemed energized by the proceedings, engaging in idle chatter. The audience was diverse, ranging from small children to the elderly, all gathered to witness the public execution of convicts and other outcasts condemned by the City Authority—the Wei Clan.

"Did you hear? They caught the Bucklion Gang!" an eager young man remarked.

"The Bucklion Gang? Is that the reason for all this?" a curious young woman inquired.

The young man’s eyes sparkled as he captured the maiden's interest. He laughed, "Yeah! The Wei Clan finally tracked those thugs down! Haha, I’ll bet they’re regretting everything right about now!"

"If that's the case, they’re getting exactly what they deserve!" an irritated old man cut in.

The rumors spread rapidly, evolving from mere speculation to accepted fact. As the crowd’s anticipation peaked, a line of prisoners with shackled ankles was led forward by a solitary figure. Clad in heavy plate armor and a black demon mask, this was the executioner.

Silence fell over the square as the group arrived, every gaze fixed upon them. Aside from the occasional hushed breath, only the rattling of chains and shackles broke the stillness.

"It looks like the rumors were true; the Bucklion Gang has been taken," the old man murmured softly. His expression was a mix of complex feelings as he watched the condemned. Many of the captives were well-known figures recognized for their ties to the criminal organization.

"To think even a high-ranking Qi Condensation cultivator was caught. Look, that’s Tu Si, their leader!" someone in the crowd shouted, pointing at the man leading the prisoners. His tall, muscular frame still projected an image of great strength. However, that image was shattered by the sight of his hands stitched together with barbed wire and his bare feet stained with dried gore.

His flesh was visibly mutilated in places. Once a Qi Condensation expert—one who had formed a Heart of Qi and unified mind, matter, essence, and spirit to manifest Metaphysical Qi—he had been a powerhouse capable of ruling over thousands. Now, he was a pathetic sight that even the local paupers viewed with pity.

Tu Si’s gaze was hollow and devoid of life. He radiated an aura of broken spirit and resignation that was enough to make children weep. As he shuffled forward under the collective stare of the masses, his head remained bowed.

Within that crowd, a fourteen-year-old boy watched. His silver eyes, black hair, and handsome features were obscured by a black robe and a conical hat.

Wei Wuyin observed the scene in silence, his eyes bright with ambition. "So, Big Brother actually pulled it off." He beamed at his family's success. Public executions were a common occurrence in Red Dove City, as the Wei Clan ruled with an iron grip. They showed no mercy to those who defied them, possessing the martial might to enforce their will.

The clan’s most powerful member, one of their patriarchs, belonged to the Saber Wolf Sect—a branch of the Scarlet Solaris Sect. He was a cultivator of the Third Stage of Qi Condensation, the Elemental Birth Phase.

At that level, a simple breeze could be turned into a typhoon, and a tiny spark could be fanned into a firestorm. Though it lacked the permanence of true creation, where manifestations endure or interact naturally with other elements, it allowed for the growth and interaction of qi through shared origins.

Cultivators of this caliber could rule over vast territories, governing entire cities and their surrounding lands within the world of cultivation.

While Wei Wuyin watched with excitement, a loud, frantic voice broke the somber atmosphere of death.

"I’m innocent! I’m innocent!" A gaunt, sickly thin man wailed as he was dragged along with the other gang members. He sobbed uncontrollably, repeating the words through a mess of tears and snot.

"I didn’t do anything! Nothing at all!" he shrieked. Both the crowd and his fellow prisoners remained indifferent to his cries. In truth, the onlookers took pleasure in his begging, enjoying the pathetic display of a criminal finally facing justice. To the common citizens who had been terrorized by the gang for years, every member and associate deserved a death sentence.

The leader and the others were escorted to the platform, where the executioner and two assistants met Tu Si. They removed his shackles and led him onto the stage. With no fight left in him, he was placed onto the stock without resistance.

In a deep, gravelly voice, the executioner asked, "Do you have any final words?"

Tu Si’s eyes remained dull, but he raised his head to see the smiling faces of the crowd, all eager for his end. He looked back down and muttered, "I should’ve killed you all."

"What did he say?!" a man in the crowd yelled furiously.

"Such arrogance! Just kill the bastard and be done with it! Looking at him makes me feel disgusted!" another shouted in a rage. The crowd began to hurl a barrage of insults.

Observing the scene, Wei Wuyin couldn't help but think how brave people became when they felt safe and superior. If Tu Si still had his freedom and his cultivation base, these women would be silent servants and these men would be groveling slaves. He would have held the power of life and death over them with a single thought.

Now that he was powerless and doomed, they attacked him ruthlessly without hesitation.

"So be it," the executioner said, showing no emotion. After reciting the man's name and crimes and confirming the death sentence, the lever was pulled. The heavy, angled blade dropped like a guillotine from the underworld.

Thud.

Tu Si’s head was severed.

A powerful expert was snuffed out just like that.

"Woohoo!" A massive cheer erupted. Even the children and the elderly were thrilled to see a monster—a killer and rapist—slain in a single blow. It offered them a sense of liberation and reinforced their belief in the government's strength. This was the purpose of public executions: to restore faith in authority and strike terror into the hearts of criminals.

Wei Wuyin wore a smile. He felt a sense of pride knowing his Big Brother was the one who captured them. In his eyes, his brother was an invincible force capable of overcoming any challenge.

Before long, heads continued to roll at a steady pace as the gang members were executed one by one. Their deaths brought joy and relief to the spectators. Since their final words were mostly curses or silence, the crowd felt emboldened to insult them further.

Eventually, the skinny man was forced onto the stock. His eyes were wide with exhaustion, dried tears, and a level of terror that seemed impossible to endure. As he looked out at the chanting mob calling for his blood, his heart went cold and his life flashed before him.

He had only joined the Bucklion Gang a month prior, lured in by a woman. He had lived as a slave and a servant to the stronger members until he managed to talk his way into becoming a member. He had been planning his escape, but the very day after he gained his "freedom," the gang was raided by powerful experts.

Unlike the other prisoners who were in chains, he had just been branded with the gang's mark the day before. Because of that mark, the captors assumed he was a full member. No one would listen to his explanations, and the other gang members maliciously lied about his involvement.

If they were going to hell, they figured they might as well take him with them.

"Do you have any final words?" Those words felt like the cold steel of a reaper's blade against his skin. Shivers racked his body, and he involuntarily wet his pants in fear.

"I..." he started, wanting to repeat his pleas for mercy, hoping someone might finally believe him. But then, a bizarre thought struck him, and he uttered words he never imagined saying in his final moments.

"I’m hungry."

"..."

"..."

The anticipated insults died in the throats of the crowd, silenced by the sheer absurdity of the statement. The man claimed to be hungry, catching everyone off guard. At the brink of death, how could someone focus on something so trivial?

While the crowd sat in stunned silence, a young man among them couldn't hold back a burst of laughter.

"Hahaha! You’re hungry? Hahahahaha!" He doubled over, unable to stop. The laughter was contagious, and a few others began to chuckle awkwardly. Soon, the entire square was roaring with laughter at the ridiculous situation.

"Hungry?! Well, you can feast on dirt in the afterlife!"

"Did he really say that? He’s about to get a mouth full of steel, so he won’t be empty for long! Haha!"

"No, no—maybe he’ll grow a new head just to get a second helping! Haha!"

The crowd mocked him relentlessly. His final words were undeniably strange and comical.

"So be it," the executioner grunted, reaching for the lever to end the skinny man's life. However...

"Wait!" A figure dressed in black streaked through the air and landed on the stage, his identity hidden by a conical hat. The guards immediately raised their weapons, prepared for a fight.

The spectators were stunned.

"Haha! You’re actually quite funny, and certainly different from any criminal I’ve met." Ignoring the hostile guards, Wei Wuyin approached the skinny man with a grin.

"Uh... thanks?" the man stammered awkwardly.

Wei Wuyin revealed a badge to the executioner that proved his identity, ignoring everything else around him. The executioner’s eyes widened in shock, and he immediately barked an order to halt the execution, leaving the crowd bewildered.

With a flick of his wrist, Wei Wuyin produced a bright red apple. "Are you hungry?" He held it out to the man.

Confused by the turn of events, the skinny man simply nodded.

"Good. What do they call you?"

"...D-Du Ling..." he stammered.

"Well then, Du Ling, let’s find you a proper meal."

-----

A knock at the door snapped Wei Wuyin out of his reverie. He gestured toward the entrance, and a gust of wind pushed the door open.

A stout man sporting a goatee entered. For a fleeting second, Wei Wuyin saw the image of a terrified, skinny man in soiled clothes superimposed over the well-dressed, portly man standing there now.

"Master, the Sect’s Outer Disciple Competition is set to begin in one hour," Du Ling announced with a serious tone.

Wei Wuyin gave a small smile. "Are you hungry?"

Du Ling froze, his heart racing with a flood of memories and emotions. He nodded almost by reflex.

"Then let’s eat before we head out." With that, Wei Wuyin stood up and walked out. Du Ling followed behind, tears welling in his eyes. Looking at the young man’s back, he felt a mixture of warmth and heavy responsibility.

He made a silent vow to himself to be far more vigilant in the future. He had no other choice.