Chapter 1: The People of America Are Going to Suffer!
Shenlei Bureau, Ring Fortress.
Lin Hao, wearing a spotless white coat and black-framed glasses, looked calm and scholarly as he entered the office of Director Zheng Xian, head of China's supernatural intelligence division. His demeanor was polite, though the faint energy fluctuations around him betrayed the suppressed demonic aura that earned him the nickname "Demon King of the East."
Zheng Xian, trimming a pot of orchids infused with spirit energy, turned his head and said casually, "Sit down, Lin Hao. There's tea in the pot — freshly brewed Longjing, from Huangshan itself."
Lin Hao nodded, sat on the leather sofa, and poured himself a cup. Despite his elegant manners, his mind raced. He was here to request deployment authority overseas — and that meant crossing paths with S.H.I.E.L.D. again. He thought for a moment, then deliberately poured a second cup for Zheng Xian — a rare gesture, since he was the one asking for help this time.
Zheng Xian finally put away his spirit-trimming shears and wiped his hands with a damp towel before sitting down beside Lin Hao. "So," Zheng said, eyes glinting, "impatient as ever. Is there any result on your application?"
Lin Hao took a calm sip of tea. "You could say I'm a little anxious," he replied.
"Anxious?" Zheng Xian chuckled. "You've been sealed for ten years since the New York Incident, and now you can't wait to stir trouble again?"
Lin Hao's lips curved faintly. "Zheng Xian, I really do want to improve. The old me might have burned everything down. The new me only wants to rebuild."
For a brief moment, the air rippled with demonic pressure — then dissipated.
Zheng Xian sighed helplessly. "You're impossible. Anyway, the higher-ups have approved it. From today, you're the new Director of the Shenlei Bureau's Americas Branch. Your mission is to rebuild our intelligence network in the West and keep S.H.I.E.L.D. in check."
Lin Hao's eyes gleamed behind the lenses. He put down his cup slowly and asked in a low voice, "What's the bottom line?"
Zheng Xian met his gaze. "Remember who you are, and where you come from. And besides…" His tone dropped. "Nothing is forbidden."
The corner of Lin Hao's mouth lifted. "Understood."
He stood up at once, visibly eager. "Then I'll arrange the handover."
Zheng Xian watched his departing figure and shook his head with a sigh. "The Demon King is smiling again… the world's in trouble."
Moments later, the door opened again. A tall woman with raven hair — Feng Yu, known in the Bureau as the Weather Witch — entered gracefully and poured herself a cup of tea.
"Director Zheng," she said softly, "are we truly sending Lin Hao to the United States?"
Zheng Xian's expression hardened. "Since Nick Fury became Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., their arrogance has grown unchecked. They dismantled our American network, then built a branch office right on Hong Kong Island, using our former agents' intel against us. It's time someone reminded Fury that he's not the only one playing god."
Feng Yu frowned. "But sending Lin Hao… isn't that too dangerous? You know how unstable his demonic seal is. If the Demon King resurfaces—"
"That's precisely why," Zheng Xian interrupted coldly. "To fight poison with poison."
Feng Yu looked worried. "But this poison—"
Zheng Xian's lips twitched into a sly smile. "Yes, the people of America…" He paused, barely holding back a laugh. "They're going to suffer."
There was genuine schadenfreude in his voice.
Just then — boom! — the office door burst open. A young man in a wrinkled lab coat stumbled in, eyes wide. "Director Zheng! Is it true? Director Lin… he's going on a field mission?"
Zheng Xian glared. "Yu Zhen, that's not something you need to know."
Yu Zhen scratched his head nervously. "Then, um… will the Director still come to work tomorrow?"
Zheng Xian sighed. "Director Lin will be on extended leave. During that time, you'll assist the Technical Development Department."
Yu Zhen froze. His lips trembled. Tears welled up. Then, without waiting for permission, he whipped out his phone. "Brothers! Confirmed news! The Great Demon King is gone!"
Even from across the room, the sound of celebration erupted through the phone — cheers, laughter, and music.
"Hahahaha! Quanjude roast duck tonight, my treat!"
Yu Zhen bolted out the door, practically glowing with relief.
"Yu Zhen!" Zheng Xian barked after him. "If the project falls behind, I'll have your head!"
"Don't worry, Director!" Yu Zhen shouted back between laughs. "As long as the big devil isn't breathing down my neck, I'll work twice as hard!"
Zheng Xian rubbed his temples and muttered, "This generation…"
Meanwhile, Lin Hao left the circular fortress hovering above northern Yanshan, boarded a silver-black vehicle fueled by spirit energy, and drove back to his family home in the capital. That night, he quietly had dinner with his parents, then told them he'd be away for a while — a "business trip" with no definite return date.
Under the soft lights of Beijing, a shadow of demonic energy flickered behind him — faint, restrained, but undeniable.
The Demon King was moving again.