The ethereal form of the soul, invisible to the human eye, drifted into the residential complex like a breeze. Zhang Yuanqing looked down and observed two uniformed officers wearing earpieces, smoking and chatting casually, occasionally glancing at pedestrians entering or exiting the complex. It was now ten o'clock at night, and the flow of pedestrians remained steady. Restaurants, supermarkets, and fruit stores along the street were still open. He continued to glide with the wind, spotting the blind spots of six residential buildings where several uniformed security officers were "loitering"—among them, his cousin, carefully protected by the ghost bride. The cousin was leaning against the hood of a car, smoking listlessly, completely unaware of the elegant, vividly red bridal gown draped over him, with a red veil covering his head. The evening breeze brought a chill, and he shivered slightly. The ghost bride's cold energy was sapping the warmth of the surrounding yang energy; he would need to recover it promptly once this matter was resolved. Zhang Yuanqing turned his gaze, passed through the outer walls of the six buildings, and arrived at the seventh-floor corridor. The neighborhood is fairly upscale, with four units on the ground floor sharing one elevator. Room 708 is right on the left side of the corridor. As Zhang Yuanqing approached the brown security door, the first thing that caught his eye was a messy living room. The coffee table was piled high with canned beer, fast-food containers, and ashtrays overflowing with cigarette ends. Shoes, socks, and clothes were scattered haphazardly across the sofa or lying on the floor. Clearly, the room's occupant is a man who is extremely untidy in his daily life. To the left of the living room is the bathroom, and to the right is the bedroom—standard one-bedroom, one-living-room, one-bathroom layout, with a total area not exceeding fifty square meters. Zhang Yuanqing turned his gaze toward the bedroom, where he could faintly hear a woman's moans. What a pity—the timing wasn't right at all... He murmured under his breath. This wasn't unusual; at ten o'clock at night, that's precisely when people usually conceive. Only suddenly, a woman appeared—something unforeseen. This added complexity meant he now had to consider several things. For instance, if the woman were an ordinary person, he would need to handle the suspect with greater gentleness. If, however, she were a traveler of the Spiritual Realm—was she lawful or malevolent? If lawful, should he kill her immediately, or first subdue her and then bring her in for interrogation at the Public Security Bureau? As he pondered these points, he had already crossed through the bedroom door. The circular, bright overhead light cast a crisp, snowy glow. On the double bed of the master suite, the sheets were rumpled. A strong man with bronze-toned skin lay on his back, hands braced on the bed, pressing hard against a young woman beneath him, striving to surge forward. The interplay of bronze and pale skin created a striking visual contrast. The man’s physique was exceptionally well-proportioned, with clear muscle definition and no excess body fat. Under the bright light, beads of sweat—large and distinct—rolled down his back, tracing the undulating, dragon-like contours of his muscles. The young woman’s voice was hoarse, her consciousness somewhat blurred, and no one knew how Zhang Yuanqing moved around to the head of the bed, examining the man's face. His features were ordinary, with sharp, stern eyes—clearly not someone easy to deal with—and there was a prominent scar across his forehead. It seemed as though he had reached a critical moment, his pulse accelerating, completely unaware of the Saint Realm spiritual body that had slipped into the room. Zhang Yuanqing then turned his gaze to the girl. She was slender, with fair skin and soft, relaxed muscles. After just a few glances, he was certain she was an ordinary person. The physical build of a spiritual traveler differed significantly from that of an ordinary person—take Guan Ya, for instance. Though her muscles were also soft and elastic, they possessed remarkable resilience. These qualities were not apparent under normal conditions, but became evident when under pressure. The girl had been under constant pressure, which led Zhang Yuanqing to conclude that she was indeed an ordinary person. Turning away from her, he looked at the scattered clothes, bra, and lace undergarments at the bedside, then at the woman's backpack on the sofa beside the bed. The backpack was open, and inside he found several books and a stack of cash. Combined with the girl's age, she was likely a female student from a nearby university. Zhang Yuanqing no longer hesitated and immediately drifted toward the man with a scar on his forehead, entering his body. The man, whose body had been rapidly pulsing, suddenly stiffened and came to a complete halt. The creaking of the double bed ceased. The girl seemed to sense something, breathing deeply and opening her eyes. The ceiling lights were too bright; half-closed, she saw the man's face contorted in intense pain, as though struggling against something. But in the next instant, his expression returned to normal. "What's wrong?" the girl asked softly, her voice delicate and hoarse. The man with the scar ignored her, raised his hand, and gently stroked her neck, pressing lightly on the carotid artery. Pain surged instantly, followed by a sudden flip of her eyes, and she fell into unconsciousness. Man, I'm really out of luck... Zhang Yuanqing, who was controlling the body of the man with the scar, murmured to himself, straightened up, and guided the man with the scar to lift his hands—his right hand pressing against his left cheek, his left arm cradling the right side of his head—then exerted a powerful force. "Crack!" The man's head snapped around, revealing his back and the girl's smooth, fair, long legs. His eyes instantly widened, veins bursting in his eyeballs, and his body went limp, collapsing. Zhang Yuanqing's ethereal form emerged, standing by the bedside, his dark energy swirling in his eyes, drawing out the residual ethereal essence from the body. Soon, a fierce, grim spirit floated out, lunging at him with vigor but hesitating, unable to make a full assault. Such a formidable spirit—this one had surely done many wrongs in life—died without any injustice. Zhang Yuanqing opened his mouth and drew in the spirit, absorbing it whole. Rapidly reviewing the man's shattered life, Zhang Yuanqing saw him in memory fragments—wearing a mask and a baseball cap, entering a bar In a brightly lit room, a middle-aged man with a lean frame and a dark, farmer-like complexion sat bare-chested by the bedside, coldly gazing at himself. Behind him, two women with full, soft bodies and pale, lamb-like skin lay on their sides, seemingly severely injured and unconscious. "Your task from now on is to find high-quality companions for me. Upon finding one, you will be rewarded ten thousand. But before you begin serving me, you must take this." The lean man spread his palm, revealing a black cicada pupa. The man with the knife scar bowed his head in fear, unable to refuse, and said, "Yes, Lord God!" As the scene shifted, Zhang Yuanqing watched one after another of the women being brought into the bar, lured, losing their identities and dignity, willingly becoming objects of pleasure. Not long after, the spacious room transformed into a space comparable to a hotel lobby, with a long rectangular swimming pool at its center, and tables along the pool's edge laden with fruits and food. A woman in a swimsuit is playing, eating, or resting on a lounge chair. The lean, dark-skinned man is freely engaging the women—sometimes in the pool, sometimes on lounge chairs, sometimes at the dining table—then turning to the scarred man and saying with satisfaction, "Good work. But I'd like you to find me some orderly, professional candidates, preferably official footmen." "Yes, Lord of the Gods!" The scene shifts again, and he sees the scarred man battling a beautiful woman whose strength is vastly superior. The woman is quickly subdued. She is then hooded and bound tightly, escorted into the bar and into the grand hall featuring a pool. The lean middle-aged man surveys the woman, wide-eyed with fear, and says, "Well done!" The scarred man bows and steps back, pushing open the door and leaving, behind him the woman's piercing cries of distress. Here, Zhang Yuanqing broke free from his questioning state, witnessing firsthand the fates of those women, his heart surging with intense rage and murderous intent. Yet the "Divine General" spoken of by the scarred man compelled Zhang Yuanqing to suppress his emotions and carefully reflect. A deity of seduction... a Divine General! "Divine General" was a unique title belonging exclusively to the Army Master Monastery. Among their many saints, only eight were honored with this title—each a peak-level saint. The foremost, Silver Moon, could even challenge Fu Qingyang to a match. "A Divine General with a strong obsession for beauty—among the eight, only one, the one driven by lust. It's no surprise that this case of missing persons involves a Divine General!" This explained why the evil organization had resorted to such a costly, less-efficient method of capturing women—not for financial gain, but for their own personal desires. The stronger the evil occupation, the more intense their inner conviction becomes—such as the Magi King whose eyes go mad with the zeal to "punish the wicked and eliminate evil." "High-level evil occupations are truly a plague. They can't control themselves. Their very existence is to poison the world, to harm the innocent..." "That orderly-minded young lady—she must be Li Zhi from Zhishā Gong. I hope she's still alive..." Zhang Yuanqing sighed, one by one opening the bedroom door and the security gate, then passing through the concrete and steel building, drifting across the residential complex. He first surveyed the scene below, locating his cousin, confirming his safety, before returning to the black business sedan and re-establishing his physical form. The very next moment, he opened his eyes. Seeing him awaken, Li Dongze immediately asked, "How are you?" Zhang Yuanqing nodded. "Done. There's also a college student inside—she's still unconscious for now. We should handle the scene quickly and keep her away from the deceased, otherwise she'll suffer lasting psychological trauma." Li Dongze nodded, picked up the radio, and said, "Chen队长, the suspect has been eliminated. Please take charge of cleaning up the scene." He briefly outlined the situation on site. Chen Yuanjun's tone carried evident enthusiasm: "Understood, thank you, Li队长." Li Dongze added, "This case is now under the jurisdiction of our Special Operations Department. You will follow our instructions and assist, but do not initiate independent investigations." After ending the call, he set the radio down and turned to Zhang Yuanqing, his expression serious. "There's a major player behind this?" With his insight skill, he easily discerned the gravity of the situation from Yuan Shi's subtle expressions. "Yes!" Zhang Yuanqing exhaled slowly. "The main orchestrator is the God of Lust. He has taken women captive—why, you should know. Moreover, the number of missing persons far exceeds fifteen. In the memories of the deceased, I've identified nearly thirty victims." "Truly appalling." Li Dongze lit a cigarette, and as the smoke drifted gently, he tightened his brows, saying, "It seems that after the Magi-Eye King was imprisoned, the Commander of the Army dispatched the God of Desire to enter Songhai to maintain intelligence channels. The god took the victims for his own gratification, but he should not have killed them—this is truly fortunate." The moral cost of killing someone to eliminate them and the moral cost of seizing women to use them as playthings are entirely different. This is precisely why Li Dongze is certain that the victims are still alive. "Have you got the address?" asked Zhenyan, the Senior Officer. Zhang Yuanqing nodded. "Call Elder Fu and inform him—we need him to take the lead on this case; we simply can't handle it ourselves." Zhang Yuanqing had already dialed Fu Qingyang's number before Li Dongze even finished speaking. After a few rings, Fu Qingyang's calm yet refined voice came through: "What's up?" "Major, I've traced the origin of the population disappearance case. The mastermind behind it is the God of Desire from the Commander's faction." Zhang Yuanqing reported.