"Goodbye, Little Wei." As Wei Wei's Jeep started and left, the previously harmonious, relaxed atmosphere within the team immediately shifted. Xiao Lin and Uncle Gun, preparing to head out, watched in the direction of Wei Wei's departure—their eyes filled with unspoken thoughts. Meanwhile, in Captain Ouyang's office, the expression that had once shown emotional fluctuation had now settled into calmness. His gaze pierced the glass window as he watched the taillights of Wei Wei's Jeep fade away. Slowly, he picked up a cigar, roasted it with his professional lighter for a moment, then lit it carefully. Taking a long drag, he turned toward Sister Lucky across from him and said, "What do you think?" "Young, sensible, and handsome..." Sister Lucky replied with a smile. "At first, I thought he was just a little puppy... but it turns out this little puppy is fiercer than a wolf." "Fierce, domineering, bold... even reckless!" "Is he really of the Life sequence?" Sister Lucky suddenly asked. Leaving the research institute, Wei Wei’s smile vanished as he instinctively pressed the accelerator. His heart pounded like beating drums, and everything before him took on a faint red tinge—as if he had fallen into a nightmare, with endless whispers flooding his ears. Forcing himself to control his racing thoughts, he accelerated. Passing through a messy, dilapidated vegetable market, he quickly exited his car, purchased four jin (about 2 kilograms) of steamed buns and a large bowl of fatty meat, then returned home almost as if flying. Sitting on a sofa against half-painted, bright red walls, he tore open the steamed buns one by one, stuffed them with fatty meat chunks, and devoured them in large bites. He ate so quickly that four jin of buns and the bowl of meat were gone in less than ten minutes. Although his stomach did not visibly swell, the fullness from the meal began to slightly calm his mind—but the thirst remained. Then he pulled out a black leather case from beneath the sofa. Opening it to reveal a set of complex apparatus and drugs, Wei Wei retrieved the small glass bottle hidden at his waist. Inside the bottle, a black mist swirled continuously—sometimes forming a vague human shape, other times a faint smoke, occasionally surging to the bottle’s wall, clenching like a fist and pounding heavily. Wei Wei abruptly reached out and switched off the alarm before collapsing onto the sofa, exhaling a long, shuddering breath. Crimson Demon Second State. From the box, he retrieved an old, black container that looked as though it had weathered countless battlefields. He pulled out a clothes rack, selected a cheap but comfortable gray hoodie, then fetched his gun holster. After emptying it of all but two guns, he donned the hoodie and jumped out of a nearby window. Passing through the bustling night market, he casually grabbed a transparent raincoat, turned down a narrow alley, and slipped it on. Following the adjacent fire escape, he climbed onto the roof of a neighboring building and settled at the eaves. From his inner pocket, he extracted the black box and carefully opened it. Inside lay a fist-sized, black object resembling a phone charm. Wei Wei hooked its iron ring and lifted it—revealing a miniaturized head that looked unmistakably like a product of Ecuadorian head-shrinking techniques. Its authentic eyebrows, hair, and slightly uneven teeth left no doubt. Holding the head charm in his hand, Wei Wei then retrieved a crow's feather he’d casually pocketed from the farm. He brought the feather close to the nostrils of the head charm, swaying it gently back and forth. After a while, as if a cold wind had blown about, the head charm suddenly opened its eyes; its shriveled mouth wriggled and it uttered a ghostly sentence: "I need you to help me find the master who made it." Whether a mysterious organization was behind the evil spirit summoning incident, Wei Wei remained uncertain. However, every superhuman who had acquired demonic power—each with their own distinct characteristics—had produced unique identifiers. These identifiers remained on the necromantic materials they crafted, their apprentices, their relatives, and their propagators, much like magnetic fields. Some special abilities or forbidden items even possessed the power to distinguish these subtle magnetic field changes. Wei Wei had worried that the necromantic materials left at the scene might not be sufficient for his friend to identify the magnetic field—perhaps the distance was too great, beyond the sensor's range. But now, it seemed he was very lucky. The mysterious organization’s members should also be considered lucky—they won’t have the chance to dig any deeper. With that thought, he slowly walked to the edge of the eaves, spread his arms, and slowly fell backward. In his blood, a strange thirst boiled; the excited light in his eyes began to flicker. In this world, there are demons that feed on souls—that is normal. There are demons that feed on demons...