The tip of the jade ruler touched the skin of Wu DeZheng’s forehead.
A pale circle of white frost bloomed on the old bureaucrat’s brow. His glasses clouded over, and his teeth began to chatter with a violent, reflex clatter.
“Arresting party: Hall of Heavenly Scrutiny,” Inspector Cui Heng intoned, his voice devoid of anger, reciting protocol like a clock ticking down the hours. “Charges: Royal document forgery, unlawful trespass upon First-Class Sovereign Relics, and suspected lower-realm espionage. Penalty: Summary dissolving of physical vessel. Soul extraction to the Penal Ingot Archive.”
The two silver arbiters stepped forward, their execution blades leveling toward Lin Ke and Meng Shan.
Lin Ke didn’t draw a weapon. He stepped out from behind the melted rock waste cart. He wiped grease from his soot-blackened cheek with the back of his bandaged hand.
“The directive was repealed six hundred years ago, Checker,” Lin Ke said, his voice flat, steady, and loud enough to cut through the hum of the surrounding arrays. “But the crack on Southern Intake Pylon Four remains.”
Cui Heng’s ruler didn’t waver from Wu DeZheng’s forehead, but the checker’s eyes shifted slightly, his gaze fixing on Lin Ke. “Load-bearing defects in the backup public works are the responsibility of the Ministry of Thunder, not the Scrutiny Office.”
