With a muffled bang, the marble floor beneath Henry Thompson's feet instantly shattered, and he was involuntarily forced to retreat step after step—he couldn't stop even after twenty paces, leaving a deep pit with nearly every step.

However, Edward Sutton also let out a surprised exclamation, glancing in astonishment at his own right hand.

“So it really is the Cold-Breath Fiery Palm.”

A layer of ice had already formed on his arm, and even the flow of blood and energy beneath his skin was affected, becoming somewhat sluggish.

At the same time, Edward Sutton noticed that Richard Palmer beside him had fiercely flung back his sleeve, revealing an arm-mounted crossbow of pure purple-gold, shrouded in a misty spiritual glow. It was a powerful magical weapon, now aimed directly at him.

“Are you crazy, Chief Sutton? My brother is the son of the Marquis of Sincerity, a descendant of a founding noble! Don’t you know that officials of rank cannot be punished? Even if he committed a crime, it’s not your place in the Ying Tian Prefecture to handle it!”

“Is that so?”

Edward Sutton looked on with disdain, a hint of schadenfreude in his tone: “We in the Ying Tian Prefecture may not have the authority, but in at most an hour, Henry Thompson, you’ll be glad your case landed with us. You should know who Samuel Clark is, right? He’s the direct heir of the Cui clan of Boling, his mother is the Princess of Boping, and his father is the Censor of Southern Zhili, Andrew Clark. I’d wager that right now, the troops under the command of this Censor’s cousin, James Clark, Commander of the Right Guard of the Imperial Forest Army in Southern Zhili, are already on their way here.”

Henry Thompson finally came to a stop. At this moment, his chest and abdomen were in turmoil, and a trace of blood seeped from the corner of his lips.

Edward Sutton gave a cold laugh, his tiger-like eyes still fixed on Henry Thompson, fierce as a wolf: “Come with me, Young Master Li. I can guarantee that at least your life will be safe in the Ying Tian Prefecture yamen.”

Countless thoughts flashed through Henry Thompson’s mind. At first, he was somewhat panicked—whether in his previous life as a humble forensic doctor or in this era as a pampered young master, anyone would be shaken by such an event.

But after the initial confusion, he realized that panic would solve nothing, and his mind became exceptionally calm and clear.

Henry Thompson knew that the Princess of Boping and the Cui clan of Boling were not people his family could afford to offend. If he were “proven” to be the murderer, not only could he die in prison, but his entire family would be implicated.

However, judging by the current situation, as long as he handled things properly, he could still turn the crisis around.

First, he absolutely could not go with Edward Sutton. Even if he had to make a scene here, he could not let the other side have their way.

Just as Richard Palmer had said, officials of rank cannot be punished. This doesn’t mean they are above the law, but rather that they are exempt from the five corporal punishments—tattooing, nose-cutting, foot amputation, castration, and execution—and cannot be interrogated by local authorities.

Without solid evidence, local officials could not directly arrest a noble of his status. Even with irrefutable proof, they would have to report to the Minister of Justice in Nanjing and obtain permission before detaining and questioning him.

Yet the first thing this Edward Sutton did upon entering the Moon-Gazing Tower was to try to arrest him. Such behavior was bound to arouse suspicion.

Second, he had to seize the initiative. Henry Thompson was certain he hadn’t killed anyone, so there must be clues to clear his name. He could first try to solve the problem using the skills he was best at.

“Chief Constable Sutton.”

Henry Thompson took a deep breath and bowed to Edward Sutton: “Even if we’re both in the Moon-Gazing Tower and both use cold-type palm techniques, that doesn’t mean it was me, Henry Thompson. May I ask if you would allow me to examine the body of Samuel Clark, so I can prove my innocence?”

Edward Sutton couldn’t help but laugh: “And why should I?”

“Because I am a member of the Six Paths Division.”

Henry Thompson raised his hand, holding a black wooden token: “Since this case involves martial cultivators, the Six Paths Division has jurisdiction!”

About twelve hundred years ago, the Great Zhou Dynasty fell into chaos due to regional warlords carving up the land. Not only were there endless wars, but demons and evil cultivators also ran rampant. A great sage, unable to bear the suffering of the people, brought together the Confucian, Buddhist, Daoist, Mohist, Legalist, and Military schools to establish the ‘Six Paths Division,’ dedicated to slaying demons and investigating all cases involving cultivators and monsters.

It survived two dynasties without falling, and not only did its power not wane, it grew into a colossal force over the millennium, its authority faintly surpassing even that of the imperial throne.

Henry Thompson’s former self was just a hedonistic wastrel, but his father was quite capable. Two years ago, he managed to get him into the Six Paths Division. Although he held the lowest rank of eighth-grade ‘Demon-Subduing Inspector,’ it gave the former Henry Thompson the confidence to act arrogantly in Jinling, and now gave him a chance to break this deadlock.

“The Six Paths Division?”

Edward Sutton glanced at the token, then fixed his gaze on Henry Thompson, his eyes growing colder, tinged with mockery and a hint of disgust: “So what if you’re with the Six Paths Division? As a suspect in this case, you want to take over the investigation? You want to see the body? Give you a chance to destroy the evidence? Seize him!”

Henry Thompson’s pupils contracted slightly. He knew there was no way to resolve things peacefully today—no matter what, he could not let himself be at this man’s mercy. That left only one option: to fight.