Mensageiro das Calamidades

“Welcome to the House of Thieves.”

Yan Qing felt as disoriented as one would waking up from a nap that stretched deep into the night; even as his eyes opened, his mind remained adrift, lost in a haze as if separated from reality by centuries.

Beneath him was a stone floor, marble walls surrounded him, and the ceiling was inlaid with luminous pearls that cast a soft glow. Though there were no windows, a gentle breeze stirred the air, leaving no trace of stuffiness—this was undoubtedly a cave, transformed and refined.

How did I end up here?

Yan Qing tried to stand, but his body seemed glued to the chair, as if some omnipotent adhesive held him fast. No matter how he shifted or strained, he could not rise.

Sounds from the room drew his attention. Only then did he realize he was not alone; three others occupied the grand hall, each seated at a different side of a marble table at the center of the room.

They, too, were attempting to stand, yet the same strange force anchored them to their chairs.

Their costumes varied, but shared a common motif—each was dressed as an animal.

From Yan Qing’s vantage, left to right, sat: the “Wolf,” cloaked in a black wolfskin hood; the “Fox,” concealed behind a white fox mask; and the “Snake,” draped in a scarf fashioned from a crimson serpent’s shed skin.

Even those without full masks—the Wolf and the Snake—wore face coverings that concealed their features, rendering them unrecognizable.

So that means...

Yan Qing’s mind raced. The hall itself seemed prepared for their confusion