Hello, is this a letter addressed to Demon Fortress?

Lin Gui followed that person through several alleys and arrived at an old neighborhood in the east of the city.

The hyena fangs' gathering place is a three-story stone building.

The exterior walls were plastered with mortar, and two guards carrying swords stood at the entrance.

The room was brightly lit and filled with the noise of people; you could hear it from half a street away.

Lin Gui didn't go through the main entrance.

He went around to the side, used the wooden crates in the corner to climb onto the roof, and then climbed in through a half-open window.

The second floor is a large hall.

The long table was laden with wine and meat, and more than twenty people sat around it, clinking glasses and laughing loudly.

The man sitting in the main seat was Cohen, the bald, burly man who had caused trouble during the day.

The leader of the Hyena Fangs, a mid-level extraordinary rank.

In front of him was a plate piled with half a roasted lamb, and beside him was a broadsword with a sheath.

The wine glass emptied and filled again, filled and then emptied again.

Lin Gui stood in the shadows at the top of the stairs, his entire body wrapped in a dark gauze robe, without making a sound.

He is waiting.

Wait for the person who was following him to return.

Before long, hurried footsteps came from downstairs.

A thin figure squeezed in through the doorway, covered in sweat and pale-faced.

Cohen put down his glass and wiped his hands.

"Why are you back?"

The skinny man's voice trembled: "B-Boss...we've lost him."

The laughter in the hall stopped.

Cohen stood up, walked up to him, and looked down at the face that was contorted with fear.

Then he punched the other person in the face.

The sound of bone cracking is crisp.

The skinny man was sent flying, crashing into a chair and landing on the ground, his mouth full of blood.

Cohen didn't stop.

He walked over and stepped on the other person's hand.

Click.

The skinny man screamed, his body curled up into a ball, his fingers bent at an odd angle.

The people around watched silently; no one spoke or moved.

Cohen kicked again before turning back to his seat, picking up his glass and taking a swig.

"waste."

The hall became lively again, and laughter rang out, though it was a bit less loud than before.

The thin man lay on the ground, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, staining the floor red.

He clutched his severed hand, struggling to get up, only to fall back down.

Nobody was looking at him.

Another person came in through the door.

He was short, wore a gray robe, and held a piece of paper in his hand.

The laughter in the hall stopped again.

Cohen wiped his hands and glanced at him: "How was it?"

The gray-robed man glanced at the still convulsing figure on the ground and swallowed hard.

"Boss, the Transportation Association said... I should go back and ask again in a week."

He shrank his neck, and his voice grew softer and softer.

"As you know, even the city lord has to abide by the rules when going to the guild. I really don't dare..."

He waited for Cohen's fist to fall.

But Cohen did not make a move.

Because he had anticipated this.

He sat back down in his chair and took another swig of wine.

A burly man stood up next to him; he was the deputy commander, a lower-level extraordinary warrior, a shield warrior.

"How about we ask Selena?"

He grinned.

"This woman has infiltrated the transport team quite a bit over the years, she must know who's in the team."

The skinny man on the ground suddenly struggled to crawl over and grabbed Cohen's ankle.

"Boss! Boss! I know! I know some information!"

His voice was hoarse, and blood was still seeping from the corner of his mouth.

"That woman... after you left, she flirted with that monk... and then she even followed him to meet him in White Stone Alley..."

Cohen kicked him away: "Get out!"

The skinny man rolled twice, bumped into the table leg, and curled up, not daring to make a sound.

Cohen looked very grim.

All the members present knew that Cohen had been pursuing Selena for a long time.

But the woman's adventure group was not to be trifled with, so he had no choice but to endure it.

The woman he likes treats him coldly, yet she flirts with a foreign monk.

Saying that was like slapping him in the face.

The deputy commander coughed lightly, bringing the topic back on track.

"Boss, could that mage... really be one of the transport team members?"

Cohen gave a cold laugh.

"So what if he's a transport team? He's all alone."

He slammed his wine glass down on the table.

"If we kill him before his men find us, burn him to ashes, and bury him in the ground, who will know it was us?"

The deputy commander's eyes lit up.

"Boss, you mean...like that noble lady from before?"

Cohen didn't say anything, but the curve of his lips said it all.

The deputy commander knew that the other party wanted to boast about that matter, so he turned to the person next to him and gestured.

"That was really dangerous."

"That woman is from the Central City-State, and the power behind her is even greater than that of the Morton family."

"We didn't know at the time. After the robbery, when we investigated, it almost scared the hell out of me."

"And then what happened?" someone asked, leaning closer.

The deputy commander chuckled.

"The boss has dealt with all the people involved and cleaned up all the traces."

"Later, the Knights came and investigated for a week, but they didn't find a single thing."

In the end, they just found a few scapegoats to cover their tracks and slunk away.

Cohen laughed heartily and raised his glass.

"Who cares about transport teams, nobles, or the Alliance Council? As long as we do it cleanly, who the hell will know it was us?"

The people around laughed, and their glasses clinked together.

"The boss is brilliant!"

"That sorcerer is nothing!"

"What's a transport team?!"

"Tie him up tomorrow and throw him in the wilderness to feed the dogs!"

Cohen gestured for the laughter to subside.

"Mail delivery commissions are our largest source of income."

"Collecting protection money, kidnapping commoners to be used as playthings by nobles, and selling stolen goods—at most, they could earn a few thousand gold coins a month."

"But delivering letters is different. A single letter costs several hundred gold coins, and a single trip is enough for us to live a carefree life for several months."

His eyes turned cold.

"I went through a lot of trouble and paid a high price to take over this business from the Morton family. I can't let some outsider ruin it."

The deputy commander hesitated for a moment: "But we lost track of that guy..."

He pulled a flyer from his pocket and slammed it on the table: "He can't escape. If he wants to open a post office, he'll have to show up eventually."

Cohen nodded, a cruel smile creeping onto his lips.

"Tomorrow, find a few people and tie him up."

"Take him outside the city, burn him to ashes, and feed him to the demons."

"I apologized to him during the day, begged for forgiveness, and ran away like a grandson, so no one would suspect us."

The people around him burst into laughter.

"Boss, that's a brilliant move!"

"That idiot thinks he's pretty capable."

"Tomorrow we'll show him who's in charge in Baiya City!"

The laughter grew louder and louder, and the clinking of glasses became more and more frequent.

What they didn't know was that the person they were about to kill was standing right above them.

Listen silently to their impending plan.