Corin exhaled, almost weary. “I warned you, Whispers Tower sells rumors, not facts. They saw two strangers in a hurry and fed you the first tale that would fatten their purse.” “Outrageous!” Flaxseed slammed his palm on the table. “We march back and make them pay. Every coin!”
Jared’s expression iced over. Losing the gems stung, but being toyed with stung far worse. “Elder, we’ll be right back…”
With that, and Flaxseed strode out, their footsteps clipped and lethal. Lyra glanced at Corin. “Should I stop him?” “No,” Corin replied, calm as still water. “A burnt hand learns quickest…”
Moments later, they reentered Whispers Tower. The same attendant waited by the marble counter. Surprise flickered across practiced smile when recognized the two men, but regained professional poise at once. “Sirs, how may I assist you?”
“A refund,” Jared said, each syllable clipped with frost. “Your information was false. Darkwind Gorge has nothing to do with Malevolent Path Hall.”
The attendant’s smile thinned. She shook head politely. “Our policy is clear. Once purchased, intelligence is non-refundable.”
“Policy?” Flaxseed barked a harsh laugh. “You sell lies, then hide behind fine print? I’ll tear this place apart!”
The attendant did not flinch. “Mind your decorum, sir. Whispers Tower has served Swordmaster City for years. We supply information, not guarantees. Your misjudgment is not our liability. A refund is impossible.”
Flaxseed lunged, fury blazing, but Jared gripped his arm, holding back with iron restraint.
Jared’s gaze sharpened into something colder than glacier ice while studied the attendant who blocked his way. He knew violence inside Whispers Tower rarely ended well, an establishment this bold surely relied on formidable backing.
“Didn’t you promise that if the tip proved false, we’d receive a full refund?” Jared asked, every syllable clipped and ringing like a judge’s gavel.
“Did I?” sneered, the corner of mouth twisting upward. “Funny, I don’t recall ever handing money back. Ask around, Whispers Tower has never issued refunds.”
Her head tilted higher, pride dripping from every word.
“D*mn it, she’s denying it now?!” Flaxseed barked, fists bunching beside his patched robe.
Beside him, Jared’s eyes narrowed to razor slits, restrained anger pulsing beneath the polished floor at their feet.
“Last chance, are you refunding us or not?” The words dropped like winter hall.
“Not a chance!” Her answer came sharp as a slap.
Without looking away, Jared murmured, “Flaxseed, deal with her…”
Flaxseed sprang forward like a starving tiger. The attendant tried to summon power, but Jared’s palm cut the attempt short, locking limbs with merciless precision.
She was only a fourth-tier Earthly Immortal, their sudden coordination left helpless. Flaxseed descended on her, fists pounding again and again until bones cracked and breath fled.
Screams ricocheted along the corridor, yet an unseen ward masked the violence, passers-by heard agony, saw nothing, and shuddered in helpless silence.
Within mere minutes, the cries fell silent. The attendant’s body sagged lifeless at their feet, beaten to death by Flaxseed’s wild fury.
Inside the tower, the corpse slumped onto the spotless floor, a dark pool of blood spreading outward like a blossoming rose.
Cultivators who had paused to watch recoiled as one, a chorus of sharp inhales rattling through the hall.
“They’re insane! Murder, right here in the open!” someone whispered, voice shaking. “That’s Whispers Tower staff they just killed. Those two must have a death wish.”
“Guards, incoming!” another shouted as footsteps thundered. Angry orders crackled, and a squad stormed from the tower’s depths.
At their head strode a middle-aged man in brocade-square-jawed, face dark with rage, eyes glinting like steel dipped in frost. The pressure of his aura thickened the air until every lungful felt like breathing tar.
