Late at night in Northport, the headquarters of the Northport Slave Traders Guild was still brightly lit.
Decades had passed, and it had long since donned the guise of legitimate trade, becoming one of the largest guilds in Northport on the surface.
However, the shocking profits of human trafficking, like an addictive poison gnawing at the bones, meant it could never truly abandon this filthiest of foundations.
Tulia melted into the shadows of the night, silently slipping into the familiar building.
She released invisible tendrils of magic, probing the internal structure.
As expected, beneath the guild’s glamorous exterior, a vast space was hidden deep underground—there, the Dungeon where “goods” were imprisoned.
She hadn’t bothered to hide her presence on this trip.
But any guard who entered her line of sight didn’t even have time to raise an alarm before a single, razor-sharp thread of magic pierced through their body in an instant.
All they could manage was a short, muffled grunt, collapsing to the ground with expressions frozen in shock.
She reached the Dungeon with ease, where a stench of mildew, blood, and despair assaulted her senses.
Rows of iron bars appeared before her, partitioning the space into cramped cages—some even smaller, meant for holding special “products” in tiny iron crates.
Inside, all manner of humanoids were imprisoned—not just humans, but Elves, Beastmen, and even rarer races.
Most of them stared blankly, huddled in corners as if their souls had already been sucked dry.
Tulia was not a merciful savior; she had neither the time nor inclination to rescue all living beings.
However, throwing a wrench into this damned guild’s workings, forcing them to scramble after escaping slaves and scatter their attention, did seem like a rather entertaining idea.
After all, even with her overwhelming power, slaughtering every last member of the guild one by one would be a time-consuming, tiresome “physical chore.”
As she idly swept her gaze over this “Living Cargo Warehouse,” a faint but rhythmic “ding ding bang bang” suddenly shattered the Dungeon’s deathly silence.
Following the sound, Tulia saw in a corner a Golden-haired Girl, back turned, focused on tapping the floor with something—her posture more like someone playing a fun little game than a captive.
Tulia, intrigued, stepped forward, curled her fingers, and knocked lightly on the cold iron bars.
“Waaah—!”
Startled by the sudden noise, the girl screamed, spun around, and hugged herself, staring in terror at Tulia who’d appeared like a ghost outside the cell.
“Who… who are you?!” The girl’s voice trembled, her emerald eyes filled with wariness.
Amused by the girl’s frightened, animal-like appearance, Tulia felt a playful urge rise within her. She elegantly covered her right eye with one hand, raised her chin a little, and said in a deliberately deep and mysterious tone:
“Just… a passing Knight.”
The Golden-haired Girl was clearly thrown off by this bizarrely theatrical introduction. Her little mouth hung open, and for a moment she didn’t know how to respond.
Yet the very next second—
“Click.”
With a faint sound, the seemingly sturdy lock on her cell door suddenly sprang open by itself!
Before the girl could react, Tulia snapped her fingers elegantly.
“Snap!”
The crisp sound echoed through the Dungeon, as if signaling the start of something unseen.
Immediately after, a chorus of “crack crack” noises burst from every corner of the Dungeon! All the cell locks, in an instant, simultaneously failed!
“What… what did you do?!” The Golden-haired Girl stared in shock at the open cell door, then spun around to question the “passing Knight.”
But when she looked back, the space beyond the bars was already empty, with only the flickering torchlight at the Dungeon entrance casting shadows down the vacant corridor.
The mysterious silver-haired woman had vanished as suddenly as she appeared, leaving behind a floor littered with broken locks, and an entire Dungeon of slaves on the brink of freedom.
Chaos was about to erupt from the very heart of the Northport Slave Traders Guild.
Tulia, like a cat after stealing a fish, slipped quietly into the shadowy rafters above, grinning as she listened to the pandemonium below.
Hurried footsteps and shouts rang out, as a swarm of guards rushed toward the lower Dungeon to deal with the sudden Escape Event.
“My, my, looks like my ‘Open Door Gift Pack’ worked quite well~ Next, it’s time to deliver some warmth to the Executives!”
But, focused on her prey ahead, Tulia didn’t notice the shadow lurking far behind her.
A golden figure, relying on astonishing stealth, was trailing her from a great distance.
As chaos in the lower levels peaked and guards thinned along the way to the upper floors—
Tulia, humming an off-key tune, dropped lightly from the ceiling and skipped toward the top floor.
She dusted off imaginary specks from her clothes, then strolled down the thickly carpeted, lavish corridor toward the building’s highest level.
As she walked, she amused herself by imagining various methods of execution, occasionally pausing to strike strange poses.
“Which office should I start with?” She tilted her head, finger tapping her chin like a girl picking out candies. “This one on the left? Or the right? Oh well, let’s treat it as a blind box!”
She pushed open a door. Inside, the Fat Supervisor was shouting at a Transmission Crystal: “Something’s happened in the Dungeon! Send people—”
“Excuse me~” Tulia smiled sweetly and waved her hand.
Suddenly, the Fat Supervisor found himself unable to speak—his tongue had turned into a fresh red Rose, blooming in his mouth.
“Shh,” Tulia made a hush gesture, skipped away, and said, “Let’s keep it quiet~”
Next door…
A Female Manager was frantically gathering documents. Seeing Tulia enter, she recoiled in terror:
“W-who are you?!”
“I’m the little cutie come to play hide and seek with you~”
Tulia spun as she sang, and the Female Manager suddenly found herself dangling from the ceiling chandelier by her own scarf, a pitiful human wind chime.
Next door…
The Bald Supervisor was a bit sharper, already drawing his sword.
“Oh my, so fierce~”
Tulia nimbly dodged his slash, waltzing around him.
As she spun, the supervisor watched in horror as his body began to melt, dripping onto the carpet like a candle.
And so, she continued down the corridor, humming her own little song: “Little bunny, open the door, open up, I won’t open, Mama’s not back yet~ But I’m not Mama, I’m the little cutie here for your life~”
Hopping and skipping, she cleared out one office after another, leaving behind an array of imaginative corpses.
At last, she reached the largest Conference Hall.
“Looks like there are some big clients in here~” She tidied her dress with a smile and entered gracefully.
Inside, a dozen Executives stared at her in terror. The Old Man at the head of the table tried to steady himself:
“Who are you?!”
Tulia tilted her head, flashing an innocent, childlike smile.
His words cut off abruptly.
Because, at some unknown moment, the air had filled with countless tiny crimson droplets.
They floated in the air, writhing with life, casting an eerie and dangerous light over the entire Conference Hall.
Tulia stood in the doorway, her shadow outlining a slender but oppressively powerful figure.
She cocked her head, imitating a half-remembered cool pose from her memory, and interrupted the Old Man with a mocking, icy tone:
“Who am I?”
Her scarlet gaze swept the room. Everyone who met her eyes felt a chill run up their spine.
“Harvest Night’s Ghost.”
At that moment, the floating blood drops instantly coalesced, transforming into dozens of razor-thin, blood-red blades, swirling in the air like a swarm of sentient bees, humming menacingly!
“Kill her!”
Among the Executives, a clearly martial Bald Strongman bellowed and burst forth with Battle Aura, charging Tulia like a raging bull!
He swung his fists, intent on crushing this ghostly woman with brute force!
Several blood blades flashed like lightning, slicing across his body!
He halted mid-charge, glancing down at the slashed clothing and shallow cuts on his body, then snorted with derision:
“That’s all you’ve got? It’s not even enough to tickle me!”
But his mocking smile froze in place!
“Urgh… huff huff…” He suddenly clutched his neck, as if something was being forcibly wrenched from inside him, his face twisted with terror and disbelief.
Before everyone’s horrified eyes, an extremely bizarre scene unfolded—the wounds on the strongman’s body became hideous gates.
Scarlet blood no longer flowed out, but shot forth as writhing threads, wildly converging before him!
Within a few breaths, a massive blood sphere, half as tall as a man and pulsing with motion, floated in midair!
Meanwhile, the strongman’s body withered and grayed at a visible pace, skin clinging tight to bone, the light in his eyes snuffed out completely.
“Thud—”
He toppled straight to the floor, a shriveled corpse drained of every drop, his body still twitching reflexively, marking the absolute end of life.
Tulia’s smile grew sweeter as she sang and danced lightly:
“Little blood drops, drip drop, turn into balls and laugh haha~”
Silence fell upon the Conference Hall.
Only the huge blood sphere continued its slow rotation overhead, and Tulia’s unnervingly tranquil voice filled the air:
“Who’s next?”
Tulia blinked her innocent big eyes and kept humming her creepy little tune, twirling around the Conference Hall.
On her final step, she leaned back, using her finger to pull at the corner of her mouth, stretching it toward her ear.
“Heehee, won’t you dance with me~”