Little Pink Starfish

“Massacre the city?” Yuan Yuanyuan reacted more calmly than Fat Cat. In fact, if Fat Cat had been just a second slower in saying it, Yuan might have said it herself.

Thankfully, he said it first, saving her from blurting it out.

“Why would he do that?” Yuan’s mind spun rapidly, then she came to a conclusion. “Could it be… the Hundred Demon King is really dying?”

History wasn’t short on examples—rulers dying and dragging countless others down with them, entire cities buried alongside a monarch. That kind of madness… Yuan thought the Li Family Patriarch was more than capable of it.

“Where did you hear this?” Yuan asked.

“Heard it just as I was about to enter the city,” the demon replied. “The city gates have already been opened. Outsiders are being let in.”

“What the hell…” Fat Cat and Yuan gasped at the same time. Was it not enough to kill the entire city—they had to lure in more victims from outside?

Didn’t they worry this would provoke a military response? That someone might strike back?

Fat Cat, however, processed it all quickly. After a moment of silence, he muttered, “Poison…”

Yuan jolted in realization.

If the plan was to massacre the city, why bother with precise methods? Why not go for mass destruction? Something quick and clean.

Yuan didn’t know if the human side was aware of any of this. Although the city had a large demon population, there were still many humans living here.

“Go tell the Daoists immediately,” she ordered one demon. “Don’t expose your identity, but the message must get through. Make them believe it.”

“Yes.” The demon nodded firmly, then vanished on the spot.

Yuan felt a deep chill. She called over another demon and instructed them to be careful with food and water—best to have supplies brought in from outside the city.

So far, poisoning the water seemed the most likely method. If they were insane enough to poison the air… well, Yuan couldn’t help with that. She couldn’t exactly walk around with an oxygen tank.

Greater demons had a bit of poison resistance. Unless it was the same type of drug that once knocked Seventeen out, Yuan figured she could endure it. But she couldn’t say the same for the weaker ones.

Fat Cat clung to the window frame, quietly watching Yuan run back and forth, giving orders. Everyone was too busy to notice him.

He slipped down, found Yuan’s blanket, dug himself a little nest in it, and curled up to sleep.

“…Is everything outside taken care of?” asked the Li Family Patriarch.

“Yes, sir,” a demon kneeling beside him responded.

“Good. You may go now.” His tone was calm, without the slightest ripple.

“M-My lord…” The demon hesitated. “Are you… truly going through with this?”

“You have doubts?” the Patriarch asked quietly, lowering his gaze.

A sudden chill ran down the demon’s spine. He was frozen in place. After a long pause, he finally said, “No… no doubts.”

Drenched in cold sweat, he backed away, still haunted by the Patriarch’s last look.

That look said clearly—if he had been one step slower to withdraw, he would’ve died on the spot.

If he weren’t a trusted subordinate, he might’ve been dead already.

This demon recalled an old rumor.

They said that on the demon battlefield, there was something everyone knew but no one dared speak of.

It started with a well—Red Sand Well.

At first, it was just an ordinary well. Perhaps its only special trait was that the water held abundant spiritual energy, making it popular among demons.

The surrounding land was fertile and picturesque, eventually developing into a village. But being near a strategic point, the area was often drawn into war.

To protect the people, a formation was placed around Red Sand Well, forming a barrier-like shield. The formation was originally built by an unknown demon. Later, when it broke down, Seventeen happened to pass by and repaired it—making it even bigger and more effective than before.

Inspired by that, Seventeen went on to construct the largest protective array in demon history elsewhere—that place was C City.

Red Sand Well had seen many battles, but so had other places. That alone didn’t make it legendary.

What made it infamous… was blood.

There was an ancient, bloody, primitive ritual in the demon world.

It was said that offering copious blood to a demon spirit could invoke its protection. The purer the blood, the more potent the spiritual energy contained, and the stronger the effect.

Everyone had heard the tale. But no one ever practiced it. No one… except one.

During the first war between humans and demons, he massacred the village.

The well had dried up. To fill it, he threw everyone into it—villagers, slain demons, fallen human cultivators, countless innocents caught in the war.

And yet… the well never filled.

That well—it was like a beast that couldn’t be sated.

Those who threw bodies into it swore they could hear it breathing. No one dared stand near the edge.

The effect? Terrifying.

The demons gained endless strength. Near the well, they never tired. They became invincible. Unstoppable.

Everyone sensed something was off—but no one spoke. Admitting it would open too many dangerous questions.

And so, the truth was buried.

Until the day someone was thrown into the well… someone whose death shocked the entire demon world.

That well—the cursed well—became legendary.

Over time, people suspected it summoned a demonic deity… or worse. Even now, bodies continued to be thrown in, both demons and humans.

Some said it was finally full.

Others said it never would be.

That it was still silently devouring souls.

…It had once even spit a demon back out—Seventeen. But that was another story, unrelated to this one.

The bodyguard demon beside the Patriarch broke into cold sweat. The one who’d started that ritual… was in this very house.

And here he was, seconds ago, pleading with him?

What was he thinking?

This man had already filled one well with corpses. Why wouldn’t he do it again?

The demon glanced around the courtyard.

Right in the middle… was a well.

Not a dry one—its water was clear and sweet. He’d been drinking from it the past few days.

But now, he didn’t dare take another sip.

They said such wells needed a “seal”—a powerful person whose blood would be enough to appease the demon spirit within.

But to build another well now… could they control it?

The last one was still consuming bodies. Just last year, seven demons were thrown into it in the northwest. And that was what was publicly known.

The well liked powerful demons. Many of the strongest in the northwest had gone missing—he suspected this was why.

Could they really control two such wells?

The demon walked to the well, anxiously peering into it, wondering if any bodies had already been tossed in.

He’d been drinking from it. Just the thought made his stomach turn.

He leaned over and saw his reflection—perfectly clear. The water was pure.

But then… he realized something.

There was someone else in the reflection.

He froze.

So that was it…

…

The demon smiled bitterly. Guess he really did speak out of turn.

He didn’t have time to finish the thought.

His vision went black—and that was the end.

The Li Family Patriarch stepped out from behind him and gave a gentle push.

The demon slipped silently into the well. A bloom of red spread through the water.

The Patriarch looked down.

The demon’s body floated, eyes still wide open, staring upward.

With the same knife he’d used to slit the demon’s throat, the Patriarch cut his own palm. A drop of blood fell into the water.

Ripples spread.

He began chanting something no one could understand.

Inside the room, the Hundred Demon King still gasped for breath.

The Patriarch returned, looked at the maid nearby, and asked, “How is his condition?”

“Not… not good,” she replied, voice trembling.

The Patriarch listened—and smiled.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly. “He’ll be just fine soon.”