COZMART: Corner Shop of Visiting Gods

In silence broken only by the rustle of robes, the commanders rose from the table, dispersing into the weaving corridors of the Xuan Residences.

Yverie's voice pierced through the taut quiet, bright as a bell. "After that fiery round of accusations, it's finally time to explore the residential chambers!"

Beside her, Brother Woo clasped his hands. "Truth or deception—now we seek tangible evidence."

The Grand Hall was their first destination. Once opulent but now faded into a melancholy of decadence, it echoed their footsteps with quiet contempt. Shafts of silvery moonlight filtered through the lattice windows. Light scattered onto a fallen jade guardian statue—its head cracked neatly in half, symbolic in the most poetic and devastating way possible.

A perfect representation of the fallen Prince Xuan.

Ao Bing knelt beside it, tracing his finger along the precise fracture lines. "The jade cracked precisely—almost surgical," he murmured.

"Such potent blood symbolism, even for immortal death!" Lady Foxfire gasped with practiced flair. "Truly, Prince Xuan had a flair for dramatics even in demise."

Nearby, Qiongqi scoffed. "Immortals always loved theatrics. Even death is just another drama."

Meanwhile, Wen hovered at the fringe of the group, silently scribbling into his notebook. His eyes flicked briefly toward the broken guardian before slipping away into the shadows, unnoticed by most—except RealmNet, whose viewers caught his cryptic exit and exploded into curious speculation:

[@ImmortalTeaSip]: Did Wen just write a death poem or...?

[@SilentWatcher55]: I demand Archivist Wen to release his works to the general public!

With no further ceremony, the commanders drifted apart, each drawn to pursue their own threads of suspicion across the Inner Court.

In the Xuan Residence library, dust motes danced in narrow beams of lantern light. Great Peng's frustration was loud enough to echo through stacks of scrolls. He rummaged noisily, dozens of scrolls fluttering to the floor. "I signed up for dramatic confrontations, not a paperwork simulator."

A soft, mild voice behind him drew Great Peng up short. Wen appeared, notebook clasped neatly in hand. "Perhaps your nephew kept embarrassing records," he said. "Something he'd rather bury?"

Great Peng stiffened. "Xuan was meticulous, not vindictive! Well…" He hesitated, suddenly uncertain. "At least, I don't think he was."

Wen offered him a small, pitying pat on the shoulder. "Solace often comes from unexpected places, Elder Peng. Even buried records."

Peng, sputtering, stared incredulously as the Archivist drifted silently onward, leaving him tangled in a pile of scrolls and wounded dignity.

***

Meanwhile, in Prince Xuan's private chamber, Erlang Shen paced deliberately, eyes narrowed as he scanned the chaos scattered across the once-lavish room. The remnants of a violent struggle were evident—scorched markings seared across wooden floorboards, furniture overturned in desperation. He crouched down, tracing the scorch marks with gloved hands.

"Messy struggle," he murmured, brow furrowing. "Too reckless for a seasoned assassin. Yet…"

His fingertips lingered over one sharply defined burn, expression darkening. His sealed third eye pulsed beneath the silver circlet, seemingly a protest against the discomfort brought by mortal limitations.

"Yet there's still precision," he concluded. "Something doesn't add up."

***

Servants' quarters whispered their own subtle mysteries. Ao Bing meticulously inspected the servants' medical cabinet, assessing every item within it. He paused suddenly, something flickering across his eyes.

"Medical sedatives," he murmured. "Missing. Interesting."

Across the room, Li Wei paged through servant logs. "Someone tampered with these logs. Entries altered, others erased entirely."

Ao Bing turned, voice icy. "To obscure who had access?"

"Exactly. Whoever did this moved with precision and intimate knowledge of estate workings."

"Subtlety," Ao Bing echoed, "and skill. Our traitor wears an innocent mask."

Li Wei heaved out a sigh, frustration clear. "Which hardly narrows our suspects."

***

Back in the Grand Hall, Taeril examined the fallen jade guardian, his fingers brushing against its carvings. His expression remained maddeningly impassive, almost bored.

Lady Meng knelt nearby, cataloging damage quietly. Beside her, Lady Foxfire's voice was dripping with theatrical seriousness. "The stars spoke clearly last night—betrayal by trusted hands."

Meng Po paused at her words. She glanced at the woman with quiet skepticism. Taeril stifled a chuckle, his gaze drifting to Foxfire as though amused by her acting.

RealmNet buzzed with energy:

[@DivineOracleFan]: Foxfire predicting murder after it happened—classic.

[@WTigerFanclubOfficial]: Commander White… is he even trying?

As the three commanders considered moving onto inventory checks and examining nearby weapon racks, a sudden voice erupted from somewhere below, startlingly earnest and demanding attention.

"Hey! Come down here, quick!" Qiongqi's voice was unusually animated. "I actually found something!"

Lady Foxfire exchanged glances with Meng Po and Taeril, snapping her fan shut. "If Qiongqi's excited, we should either celebrate or panic."

"Perhaps our dramatic heir has stumbled upon genuine intrigue." Taeril smiled, offering an elegant half-bow toward the stairwell. "Shall we?"

"Yes." Meng Po nodded, smoothing her sleeves. "We mustn't keep him waiting."

It took them some time to find the entrance to Qiongqi's voice—a doorway hidden behind an irrelevant crease. The stairway leading to the basement beneath the estate was narrow, with oppressively close walls, as if intentionally designed to create a sense of dread. Lady Foxfire descended first, gingerly lifting her gown's hem with each step. She was followed closely by Lady Meng, whose expression remained poised despite the shadows dancing across the stone walls.

Their footsteps echoed as they descended the staircase, uncertainty thick in the air between them.

At the same time, RealmNet filled with feverish anticipation:

[@DramaLover88]: Calling it now, Qiongqi accidentally solves the murder.

[@HeavenlyTeaTime]: Or creates a new one.

"Of course, Prince Xuan would have his own little secret cellar," Foxfire sighed, her voice echoing off cold stone.

"Such secrets often lie beneath the most subtle façades," Lady Meng said. She pressed a silken handkerchief against her nose as a metallic tang seeped from below.

They emerged into a chamber bathed in weak torchlight. Qiongqi stood at its center, his crimson cloak stark against the dusty surroundings. Before him stretched an array of torture instruments, their edges catching flickering candlelight, the remnants of dried blood on silver whispering of a spectrum of potential horrors committed.

Meng's handkerchief tightened against her mouth. The usually impassive administrator looked visibly disturbed.

"My stars, Prince Xuan had an alarmingly macabre fetish," Lady Foxfire said, fanning herself with both hands.

Qiongqi scoffed, barely turning from the grisly display. "No need to be dramatic. This is just child's play."

Above them, more commanders filed down. Great Peng stumbled out from the stairway, his golden robes rustling in the silence as he surveyed the instruments. He leaned forward, fingers brushing against a rusted blade.

"Fresh marks," he announced, expression shifting from mere distaste to genuine alarm. "Oh, this just got infinitely worse."

Taeril emerged quietly, pale eyes scanning the room. He tilted his head, examining a particularly sharp iron clamp. "A tool for persuasion…or punishment," his voice was as mild as if discussing tea preferences.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Trailing behind him was Li Wei, whose face was lined with open discomfort. "Either way, this adds new motives. Torture breeds grudges. Who here would have cause?"

Back at the streaming balcony, Yverie's voice floated through RealmNet, a breathless hush of excitement, "Poor Commander Qiongqi—always stumbling into trouble."

When the 30-minute exploration timer finally ran dry, the commanders reconvened to the Outer Court, reentering the Hall of Supreme Harmony. The same round table glowed faintly beneath moonlight, awaiting their presence. As each took their seats, the Ledger's voice resonated from around the walls:

"First Official Accusation Round—begin. You have fifteen minutes."

[TIME REMAINING]:

00:14:59

The White Tiger wasted no time, leaning forward slightly with a composed gaze. "The Grand Hall body had shown evidence of a precise strike. Cleanly broken jade suggests practiced skill—a pointed assassination, not random violence."

Next, Erlang Shen folded his arms, expression stern as granite. "I was in Prince Xuan's chamber. Found scorch marks all over—obviously a struggle, fierce enough to be heard, yet we heard nothing. Someone had the skill or means to silence it."

Li Wei moved to speak, but Ao Bing swiftly interrupted. "Allow me. I hardly trust Captain Li's tendency toward dramatic embellishment."

Li Wei, speechless, leaned back with a vague gesture. "By all means, Physician. Enlighten us."

"Medical sedatives vanished from the servants' quarters—quiet murder tools." Ao Bing ignored the jab. "Someone within our circle had access."

"And what about those instruments of torture beneath the manor?" Qiongqi's claws slammed down on the table. "Prince Xuan's secret tastes were more vicious than I'd imagined. Maybe he'd committed nasty stuff that had angered the killer."

"Or maybe," said Ao Bing, "it's the killer who'd committed the basement atrocities, making use of the location without Xuan knowing."

Lady Foxfire shivered, hugging her hands around her arms. "Fate warned us clearly. Trusted hands, blood betrayed. We're all suspects now!"

She then shot a wink at the camera, and RealmNet cheered at her immersive role-playing.

"I noted several artifacts missing from the hall displays," Lady Meng's voice floated in, smoothing the chaos. "With experienced remodelling, they can become weapons that might explain these troubling discoveries."

Erlang Shen raised an eyebrow. "Convenient observation, Stewardess Meng."

She met his skepticism with a graceful, unreadable smile. "Truth rarely announces itself loudly, Ex-General Erlang."

[@OracleStan]: Foxfire: vague omens always on point.

[@MengFanClub]: Meng just called Erlang Shen a loudmouth politely.

Eyes shifted next to Wen, who nodded with characteristic cryptic grace. "The words may lie," he said simply.

Peng visibly flinched. "Archivist, must you always be so creepy?"

"Truth unsettles those who hide from it." Wen shrugged, eyes half-lidded.

The table finally turned toward Great Peng, who straightened in his seat, already clearing his throat and preparing to recount his findings. "Listen carefully, I—"

[PLAYER STATUS UPDATED]:

Great Peng (Seat 007) — Prince Xuan's Uncle — has been killed!

[PLAYER IDENTITY]:

Loyal.

Great Peng: "?"

Audiences: "??????"

His words died abruptly as the Ledger's voice cut him off. Great Peng's eyes bulged, mouth agape. His image flickered, colours fading to monochrome. Silence fell like a shroud, broken only by a few gasps from the commanders and RealmNet alike.

"Wait, he's dead?" Qiongqi leapt up angrily. "Who was with Peng? Who's responsible?!"

Li Wei hurriedly glanced around, face tense as he mentally recalled each commander's movements. "Wasn't he investigating alone this round?"

Lady Foxfire fluttered her fan, voice sorrowful. "Oh, poor, poor Uncle Peng. Silenced mid-monologue. Simply tragic."

Erlang Shen steered his gaze towards her. "Convenient timing, wouldn't you say?"

Foxfire lifted one brow faintly. "Perhaps tragically convenient for someone, indeed."

Outside of the illusory arena, Brother Woo sighed. "Commander Great Peng—tragically silenced. The killer moves swiftly."

"The real question now—" Yverie said, eyes fluttering in excitement, "—who silenced Peng, and what secret did he nearly spill?"

Onscreen, Li Wei leaned forward, urgency tightening his expression. "Wait—I was with Physician Ao Bing earlier. Who else was alone?"

A heavy, accusing silence fell around the round table. Erlang Shen stiffened slightly, folding arms across his chest as his voice edged toward defensive. "My solitary investigation was strategic, Captain Li—not deceitful."

"Strategic or suspicious?" Ao Bing tapped the table under him. "General Erlang, you were in the Second Prince's bedroom, which was the closest to the library where Peng was."

"And your overly meticulous findings, Physician?" Erlang Shen's eyes narrowed. "Sedatives disappearing under your watch sounds far more suspicious to me."

Taeril, observing with mild amusement, chose this moment to interject. "Gentlemen, perhaps clarity lies in simplicity," he said. "For myself, I stayed primarily with Lady Meng and Lady Foxfire outside, examining Prince Xuan's fallen form. Only briefly did I visit the basement when Qiongqi urgently called."

Lady Meng and Lady Foxfire nodded subtly, affirming his alibi with silence.

"What's wrong with being urgent?" Qiongqi surged upward, voice rising to a shout that echoed in the chamber. "I found something important! You're accusing the wrong person here."

"Peace, heir apparent." Lady Meng turned toward him, her voice soothing but firm. "Unless your intent truly is to draw suspicion to yourself?"

At her words, Qiongqi's face turned scarlet. "Am I crazy? Why would I do that?! This is all stupid."

"Passion often masks guilt." Taeril gave a mild sigh, his voice cutting through the heated exchange. "Though, perhaps you are simply prone to unfortunate choices."

Great Peng, greyed out yet visibly agitated, mimed exaggerated outrage. His lips moved rapidly without sound.

Back at Team 001's bench, Finn leaned forward, whispering fervently to Willow, who looked equally intrigued, "Tell me again why our commander skipped previous games? Because he seems suspiciously good at casual psychological arson."

Willow grimaced. "That might be exactly why."

The commanders exchanged knowing glances, silence thickening beneath the rhythmic ticking of the round table's countdown. Erlang Shen crossed his arms, brow creased as his eyes tracked the rapidly depleting seconds. The large numerals on the display pulsed ominously:

[TIME REMAINING]:

00:00:30

"The current round is nearing its end," said Erlang Shen. "We have little choice but to start somewhere."

"Seconded." Taeril raised a lazy arm. His obsidian gaze scanned the room, and a smile appeared on his face. "If we abstain from voting now, who knows whether the Ledger would punish all of us by random elimination? Voting someone out is only fitting."

Lady Foxfire tapped a lacquered fingernail against her fan, gaze sharp. "But who do we accuse? We've barely begun investigations."

"Then Ex-General, since you're the one who brought this up," Ao Bing said. "Where does your suspicion lie?"

"Everyone here is questionable to an extent, but..." Erlang Shen sighed quietly. "We've all been executing our own investigations, only to rejoin shortly upon the heir's calling. The only time the culprit could have made a move was during the time where we've all been congregated, and he was the one that instigated the meeting."

His eyes skimmed the seat of the demon commander.

"Mild apologies, but Qiongqi's… erratic behaviour and disturbing discoveries—my vote is clear."

Qiongqi: "???????"

"Seconded." Taeril smiled, perfectly content in fanning the flames.

"You—!" The demon's fists slammed the round table. "This is ridiculous! Have you all forgotten the White Tiger's history of manipulation? If anyone deserves suspicion, it's him!"

"Manipulation? Perhaps." Taeril, lounging in Seat 001, offered a mild, amused smile. "But this is nothing personal, Heir Apparent. If we're judging purely by erratic actions today, your outburst seems far more concerning. Not to mention, the basement was tucked away quite discreetly. How did you end up coming across it?"

"On accident!" Qiongqi said.

"You just coincidentally stumbled by a crack in the walls?"

"I..."

"The Inquisitor brings up a good point," Lady Meng said. "Please, defend yourself if we are wrong. How did you end up discovering the basement?"

Faced with the accusations, heat rushed to the demon's face at once. He glared at both of them, flabbergasted but unable to squeeze out a retort. Compared to the White Tiger and the Heaven's General, who were both famously known to be frustratingly eloquent, the demon was comparably disadvantaged in verbal debates.

"It was an accident! I heard a sound by the walls, then came across the narrow entrance." Qiongqi spat at them, incredulous. "What? Am I not allowed to bring up discoveries?"

"No, no. All discoveries are welcome, of course," Taeril said, raising his shoulders in a subtle shrug. "Even ones that may be intentional to mislead."

General murmurs rippled around the table. The commanders' eyes flitted between the White Tiger's casual indifference and Qiongqi's barely contained rage.

"Preposterous," Qiongqi growled, yet his voice trembled with frustration. "I was framed! Someone's clearly planting evidence. Someone got me to discover the basement and lure you all there. It must have been a preplanned trap."

"Framed or not," Erlang Shen interjected, glancing warily at the countdown—now flashing urgently at 00:10, "your unstable reactions right now aren't helping your credibility."

Lady Foxfire tapped her lips thoughtfully. "One wonders—what motive would anyone else have to frame you?"

"Well," Taeril mused, leaning forward. "Perhaps our Heir Apparent's chaotic tendencies make him the easiest scapegoat? But his presence is undeniably disruptive to our collective survival." He nodded to no one in particular. "Voting him out might give us clarity moving forward."

[TIME REMAINING]:

00:00:05

A tense silence fell over the commanders, their expressions conflicted but hardening. Reluctantly, they cast their votes one by one. The Cloud-Jade Ledger's voice echoed in return, impartial yet damning.

[VOTE RESULTS]:

Bai Hu (Seat 001): 1 Vote

Erlang Shen (Seat 002): 1 Vote

Qiongqi (Seat 005): 6 Votes

[PLAYER STATUS UPDATED]:

Qionqi (Seat 005) — Xuan Residence Heir Apparent — has been voted out!

[PLAYER IDENTITY]:

Loyal.

Qiongqi froze mid-protest, eyes widening with outrage, before his form flickered into monochrome silence. His furious final shout—"You stupid fools—!"—lingered in the silence.

RealmNet exploded, messages scrolling faster than the eye could follow:

[@PoorQiongqi]: Ah—so he was framed after all... #JusticeforQiongqi

[@DivineDramaFan]: Commander Qiongqi... maybe sign up for some debate classes once this is all over......

Yverie shook her head sympathetically from the commentator's booth. "Poor Commander Qiongqi—forever misunderstood."

Brother Woo inclined his head. "A tragedy we perhaps should have foreseen."

"Well," Taeril retracted his gaze from the results board and dusted his hands, as if the demon's elimination was nothing more than a minor interlude. "Qiongqi's sacrifice was unfortunate, but not in vain. At least we now have narrowed down another one of the suspects."

A seat away, Li Wei released a weary sigh, muttering "inter-realm unity" like an ironic trance.

The round table dispersed in silence, each commander rising once more. The viewers leaned forward, scrutiny sharp enough to dissect each micro-expression captured.

Taeril stood, smoothing his silver-white robes. His eyes briefly passed over Erlang Shen—such a slight glance it seemed incidental—yet the audience's attention sharpened instantly. Before theories could form fully, however, he repeated the exact motion, glancing identically towards Li Wei, then Lady Meng, Ao Bing, Lady Foxfire, and Wen in perfect sequence.

"…"

[@StrategicChaos]: Commander White intentionally confusing us with neutrality again.

[@IrritatedObserver]: Did he just red-herring everyone simultaneously?

The camera then briefly zoomed in on Ao Bing, whose eyes fixed upon Taeril's retreating figure, his brow furrowing ever so slightly. RealmNet netizens recovered quickly, speculations soaring:

[@TheoryCrafter22]: Ao Bing suspects the White Tiger—battle of titans incoming

[@MoleHunters]: Peak deception. Trust no one!

Back on the commentator's stage, Yverie's bright voice chimed in once more. "With Qiongqi's elimination, suspicion only grows! Every word, every glance, every silence—everything matters now!"

As the commanders departed from the round table into shadowed hallway, the scene faded slowly, leaving only the echo of Brother Woo's words lingering in the tension-filled air:

"Trust sparingly. For when it comes to the deities' game of suspicion, foes are indistinguishable from ultra foes."