Zhang Xiaowai crouched in the shadowy corner of an underground auction house, drenched in cold sweat, feeling like a live-action Ulong grenade primed to detonate at any moment. The overhead lights were dim and flickering, casting ghostlike shadows on the walls. The echoes of the auctioneer's booming voice hadn't yet faded, and the masked bidders murmured among themselves, filling the air with a mix of tobacco, perfume, tension, and the unmistakable stench of too much money.
Today, Liu Piaopiao had dressed up as a "nouveau riche noblewoman," complete with a blindingly gold faux-fur shawl. Her wig had barely survived being stuck in the entrance, and atop her head sat—yes—her ever-present deer-antler hat. She looked less like a bidder and more like a cartoon villain who'd wandered into the wrong show. Clutching a magnifying glass like an antique expert appraising treasure, she whispered to Zhang, her eyes locked on the display.
"Look at that!" she hissed, motioning toward the stage. "It's the third fragment of the Ulong Map! Looks exactly like our two pieces! If we miss this one, the whole dragon loses its whiskers!"
Zhang Xiaowai's lips twitched. His heart pounded like the sizzling iron skillet of a night market lamb skewer vendor. He still had the two previous fragments—one from a night market back alley, the other scavenged from a crumbling temple in Old Town. Originally, he'd hoped to sneak in alone and test his luck. Instead, he'd been "voluntold" by Liu Piaopiao and Wang Dazhuang to join this madness. His so-called "Ulong aura" hadn't even kicked in yet, and he was already regretting every life choice that brought him here.
"My aura isn't a light switch I can just flick on," he grumbled under his breath, shooting a resentful glance at his overenthusiastic teammates.
Tang Xiaotang, their "media specialist," was weaving through the crowd like a tabloid journalist on a mission, phone camera in hand, muttering to herself, "This footage's gonna be viral gold. Hashtag: #UlongAuctionScandal. I'll be trending in no time."
Meanwhile, Wang Dazhuang stood like a knockoff Men in Black agent—if the agency had hired bodybuilders on discount. His grip on his police baton was tighter than a bank vault, eyes glued to the map fragment on the platform. "Xiaowai," he muttered in a low, gravelly tone, "once the bidding starts, I'm storming the stage. Destiny never misses."
Zhang rolled his eyes. "You mean like when you got chased three blocks by a stray cat in Old Town?"
"That was a tactical lure maneuver. It's called 'strategic baiting,'" Dazhuang replied, puffing out his chest.
"Yeah yeah, 'tactical genius.' The only thing you've ever outwitted is a vending machine."
The auction reached its climax. A deep gong echoed through the room as the host, voice hoarse like gravel being poured into a drainpipe, announced, "The third fragment of the Ulong Map. Starting bid: 500,000 Ulong coins!"
The crowd erupted. Paddles flew into the air, phones vibrated with frantic transfers, and the tension rose faster than the heat from a night market oyster grill.
Zhang Xiaowai considered throwing all three of his debit cards into the ring when a voice suddenly echoed through the building. It wasn't coming from the mic—it was deeper, layered, like it rose from the foundation itself.
"Zhang Xiaowai. You and your ragtag band of fools—leave the auction. The Ulong Map isn't for amateurs like you."
The voice was cold, laced with sarcasm, like someone breathing frost directly into his ear.
"The Shadow!" Liu Piaopiao straightened so fast her antler hat nearly took flight. She even pointed her magnifying glass at the ceiling like she expected to spot him clinging to a chandelier.
"He dares insult Ulong City's number one detective!" Tang Xiaotang squealed with journalistic glee. "Ooh, that line's so punchy! 'Ragtag band'! Gotta jot that down—headline quality!"
Zhang's knees buckled. "Why am I always the leader of the 'ragtag' in these things? How does this guy even know my name? Has he bugged my bathroom?"
Wang Dazhuang slapped his chest. "What's there to fear? Destiny fears me! Time for a cold joke to strike terror into his heart—why doesn't the Shadow show his face? Because he's scared my baton will give him a permanent black eye!"
Silence.
Even the auctioneer paused mid-sentence. Liu Piaopiao covered her face. "Dazhuang... your jokes are scarier than the Shadow."
Right on cue, Zhang's Ulong Aura decided to clock in for the shift. In his panic, he elbowed a nearby incense burner, sending embers flying. They landed on a velvet curtain and whoosh!—instant flames.
"Fire!" someone screamed.
"Is this an assassination?!"
"Where the hell are the security guards?!"
Liu Piaopiao's eyes gleamed. "Now's our chance! Xiaowai, GO!"
Before he could object, she yanked him toward the stage. Two steps in—click!—the lights went out. Total blackout.
Footsteps echoed in the dark, rhythmic and hair-raising. Zhang Xiaowai swore someone brushed right past him. A sharp gust of wind—and then a soft thud from the display stand.
He scrambled for his phone and flipped on the flashlight.
Gone. The fragment was gone.
"The Shadow!" Liu hissed. "He took it!"
Dazhuang roared, baton raised. "Thief! Face the wrath of destiny!"
Unfortunately, his swing landed squarely on the fuse box.
BOOM!
A shower of sparks, then total darkness. Even the backup generators died.
"Can you not sabotage us?!" Zhang wailed. "This isn't the Ulong Aura—it's Ulong armageddon!"
Tang Xiaotang, unfazed, was still filming. "This footage is gold! Fire, blackout, mystery villain, cold jokes—it's got it all! I'm getting a blue check tonight."
But then—clunk!
A steel door near the stage groaned shut, locking with a hiss. The voice returned, colder than before.
"Zhang Xiaowai, welcome to my little game. Want to leave? Find your own way out."
"Dead. I'm dead." Zhang collapsed on the floor. "Stir-fried calamari has better luck than me."
Liu Piaopiao wasn't fazed. "It's a trap. A classic! But no worries—this detective's on the case!"
She began slapping walls in search of hidden doors.
"Could you not cause another collapse?" Zhang asked as dust rained down from her efforts.
Dazhuang joined in, smashing the wall with his baton. "Destiny, open sesame!" The baton bounced back and smacked Zhang's foot.
"YOWCH! Are you helping or just trying to send me to the ER?!"
And then—clang.
Zhang's foot accidentally knocked loose a floor panel. Inside was a small compartment—and a folded paper.
He pulled it out.
"The secret of the map lies in the library."
New silence.
"Another clue!" Piaopiao's eyes gleamed. "He's taunting us again!"
"Or baiting us," Zhang muttered.
Tang Xiaotang zoomed in for a close-up. "Plot twist! This arc's really heating up. Xiaowai, we should do a whole docuseries on your aura!"
But Zhang wasn't smiling.
He felt like the Shadow's little game was tightening around him like a snare. Every step seemed guided, every mistake... expected.
He spoke quietly. "Why does the Shadow always know our next move? Unless..."
He looked up.
"Unless there's a mole."
That line sliced the air like a knife. Piaopiao and Xiaotang exchanged a glance. For a brief second, the shadows around them thickened. Tang Xiaotang's grin stayed—but something shifted behind her eyes.
The crowd inside was still in chaos, guards scrambling to herd the masked buyers. Amid the confusion, the group slipped out the back exit.
Zhang Xiaowai clutched the paper in his hand, his heart thudding like a night market drum.
The game had begun.
And the Shadow—clearly—was playing for keeps.