Wen Wen, having deactivated his Disaster Prison Lord state, wiped his hands and picked up the short sword with a hint of anticipation.
It felt heavy in his grip, a natural consequence of fusing over a dozen daggers. However, this was precisely what Wen Wen desired; he had previously found his old weapon too light.
After twirling it a couple of times, Wen Wen swung it down onto the hilt of a dagger, which snapped off cleanly.
"I didn't use much force. The sharpness of this short sword should surpass that of antique daggers. It was worth all the trouble."
Next, Wen Wen closed his eyes. The energy from his blood-colored heart formed an unusual circulation, and a thin layer of black energy enveloped the blade.
With a single swing, the sound of the air being sliced apart echoed.
"It’s true, swordsmanship feels more natural with a sword. Although this short sword isn't particularly long, the feel is completely different."
After just one swing, Wen Wen had fallen in love with this short sword. No matter how he looked at it, this short sword was leagues ahead of the rune dagger.
This was, of course, to be expected. When the rune dagger was first crafted, Wen Wen did not possess the power of the Disaster Prison Lord.
A weapon personally forged by a Disaster-level expert, even without advanced technology, was far superior to ordinary super-powered weapons.
"Not bad, not bad."
Wen Wen nodded, then fastened the short sword to his waist. His gaze then shifted to the residue on the ground from the creation of the rune short sword.
"Hmm... I'll play with this then."
He melted down the scrap materials on the ground, then enveloped his rune dagger with them, and further refined it with Disaster-level energy. In less than ten minutes, a brand-new dagger with strange patterns appeared before Wen Wen.
"This dagger will be my gift to Feng Ruixing. Giving a super-powered weapon right from the start of his job; there's no one as generous as me elsewhere."
Yes, the rune short sword he had spent the entire afternoon crafting was intended for his own use.
What he intended to give Feng Ruixing as a reward was merely the item he had put together casually at the end.
...
As night fell, Wen Wen arrived at the reserved restaurant on time to attend the association's gathering.
Looking at the restaurant's sign, Wen Wen felt a flicker of unease. This was none other than "Furong Kitchen."
"He shouldn't be the one cooking, right? I heard he rarely cooks personally these days. He shouldn't be..."
Wen Wen knew very well what Zhu Qipei did when he was at home. The mere thought of him cooking made him feel uncomfortable all over.
When he arrived, it was slightly late, and everyone had already ordered the dishes.
"Detective Wen, where were you to be so late?" Lin Lu asked with a smile.
Wen Wen uttered two words: "Practicing sword!"
Lin Lu couldn't help but burst into laughter, "Practicing 'jian' (jian, meaning sword, but sounded like 'jian', meaning cheap/mean), that's just like you."
The others also chuckled. Only Wen Wen's eyes narrowed in irritation, trying to explain which "jian" he meant, but no one believed him.
Despite Wen Wen's earnest corrections, he was actually quite happy.
Since a certain day years ago, he had been solitary, never engaging in any interactions outside of work.
Now, though his relationship with the members of the Hunter Association wasn't exceptionally close, they were the closest people to him in recent years.
Soon, the prepared dishes were served one by one. These dishes weren't just visually appealing, aromatic, and delicious; they seemed to glow.
The boss, who had previously taken a disliking to Wen Wen, stepped forward and said with a smile, "Chef Zhu is personally cooking today, everyone is in for a treat."
Upon hearing that Zhu Qipei was cooking, everyone became spirited, except for Wen Wen, who eyed the boss strangely.
"Could this guy be playing a trick on me because he dislikes me?"
Well, it was indeed because of him that Zhu Qipei was personally cooking today, but not to trick him, rather to save face for a friend.
Anyone who could provide Zhu Qipei with a pig head doll was considered a friend by Zhu Qipei himself!
Since the dishes were already served, Wen Wen didn't stand on ceremony. He casually popped a piece of pork into his mouth, and his eyes narrowed.
No kidding, Zhu Qipei really had a knack for cooking. No wonder the boss tolerated his terrible attitude.
However, Wen Wen was curious, what kind of feeling did Zhu Qipei experience when cooking pork...
Then, all eyes at the table fixed on Yan Xiu, who had been quietly silent.
He hadn't removed his mask since arriving at the association, and no one knew what he looked like. Surely, he would have to remove it during dinner.
Then, under everyone's expectant gaze, Yan Xiu picked up a shrimp, popped it directly into his mouth, and chewed with evident delight.
"???"
Wen Wen's mind was filled with question marks.
What about the process?
How did he get it into his mouth without taking off his mask?
Not a single super-powered individual present could figure out what had happened.
They could only look at the emoji of Yan Xiu's ecstatic expression on his mask, exchanging bewildered glances, rendered speechless.
In any case, the meal proceeded with great merriment. Gong Bao Ding, the oldest among those being sent off, simply watched these youngsters with a smile, speaking little.
At demon hunter gatherings, sadness was rarely present.
For those who might lose a companion the next day, the sorrow of farewell was an unnecessary emotion.
After the gathering, everyone sat outside Furong Kitchen to sober up, chatting and bantering, a rare moment of leisure.
Wen Wen, with a flushed face, enjoyed the caress of the wind. Having an occasional outing like this was quite pleasant.
Suddenly, his phone rang in his pocket. Wen Wen smacked his lips, his eyes quickly regaining clarity, a pungent smell of alcohol faintly emanating from him as he had already expelled the alcohol from his bloodstream.
It wasn't just Wen Wen; everyone else had also deliberately entered a state of mild intoxication.
Given the physical constitutions of demon hunters, it was difficult for ordinary alcohol to make them drunk.
He answered the phone, and before Wen Wen could even ask, a slightly anxious, childish voice came through,
"Hello... are you Detective Wen? My uncle has gone mad, can you help?"
Wen Wen frowned and asked, "May I ask who you are, and how you got my contact information?"
"My name is Li Dazhuang. I don't know how I got your contact information, but I just felt that I should come to you for this kind of situation." The voice on the other end trembled.
Upon hearing Li Dazhuang's name, Wen Wen understood.
He had encountered this young man twice before: once when capturing the Whispering Wood Sprite, and another time during the Furong River Park incident.
Come to think of it, the fellow was quite unlucky. If this was also a supernatural event, he would have encountered three supernatural events in a row.
It was precisely because he thought the young man was unlucky enough that Wen Wen had given him his business card.
"Don't rush. Tell me what happened?" Wen Wen calmly soothed Li Dazhuang's emotions.