Mad Dogs at No-Stone Mountain's Gate
Honam's Changsa was a bustling city at the heart of the region, thriving as one could expect. Yet even there, amid the clamor, lay a quiet spot. On the eastern outskirts stood No-Stone Mountain. True to its name, it was a barren peak devoid of rocks—or anything else, for that matter—which kept even herb gatherers away.
Halfway up that desolate slope, a lone man stood watch. He wore a peculiar mask painted with a serpent. Nothing surrounded him but emptiness. What could one man possibly be doing out here alone?
The mystery soon unraveled. Another odd group appeared, also masked. Two men, by the look of them.
"Business."
The serpent-masked man spat the word in a flat, emotionless tone.
"Uh... this is the right spot for the fighting pit, yeah?"
The man on the left hesitated before speaking.
"......"
The serpent mask gave no reply, as if it wasn't worth the effort.
"Why ask? The masks make it obvious."
The man on the right scolded his companion and pressed on.
"We want in. Let us through."
"Qualification."
Again, the serpent mask's response was curt.
"Qualification?"
"What qualification?"
The men exchanged confused glances, then muttered to each other.
"Probably wants an entry fee, right?"
"Yeah, money. Tch, it's always about cash everywhere you go."
The right-hand man finished deliberating and offered a pouch heavy with silver taels.
"Here you go."
The serpent mask confirmed it held silver—not gold—and promptly flung the pouch to the ground.
Thud!
"Wh-what? Is there no manners in the world anymore?!"
"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?!"
Outraged by the rudeness, the men's tempers flared. But the serpent mask didn't flinch.
"Qualification."
"This guy's for real?"
"Damn it, what kind of punk is this? Hey! Get your boss out here, not some small fry like you!"
The men's fury boiled over. Yet...
"Qualification."
"This bastard won't quit!"
"Three."
"What the hell's with the countdown?"
"Two."
"Hey, tell your boss to come out!"
"One."
The instant the serpent mask counted down to one, figures in masks burst from the seemingly empty surroundings.
"Wh-what the?!"
"Sh-shit, you scared the hell outta me!"
The men recoiled in shock. And then...
"Clean."
With that single word from the serpent mask, crack!Crunch!
The men's necks twisted grotesquely—two full turns at least. Their cervical bones had long since shattered. They died without a scream, collapsing in hideous heaps.
Whoosh. Swoosh.
The masked figures dragged off the corpses. In seconds, the site was pristine, as if nothing had happened. The serpent mask stood alone once more.
Inside, he sneered cruelly. They always show up. Cockroaches who had no business crawling into a place like this, oblivious to their place.
The solution was simple: clean them out thoroughly. Ensure they couldn't muddy the waters here or spread stupid rumors outside.
Today's tally was nearing ten already. Still, watching the cleanup felt good. Like the world was purging its filth, one pest at a time.
That's why he couldn't quit this gatekeeper gig. The satisfaction was too real.
Another cold sneer curled within the serpent mask. Right then...
A strange noise echoed.
"Awoo! Awoooo!"
An animal howl. The serpent mask's expression twisted oddly. It had to—that sound had no business here. No beasts roamed No-Stone Mountain.
Which meant...
These crazy sons of bitches brought a pet?
The serpent mask's face twitched beneath. He barely contained his boiling rage. He wanted to kill them on sight, but rules didn't cover pets. No one had imagined some lunatic dragging an animal to a fighting pit.
The serpent mask was already fretting over how to handle it. And at last...
Two men and "one pet" crested the slope. A man of average build in a golden dragon mask. A hulking brute in a black bear mask. And finally...
"Wh-what the hell?!"
A genuine yelp escaped the serpent mask's lips. It couldn't be helped. The "pet" wasn't an animal—it was human. Those jiggling, ripe white breasts screamed it loud and clear.
A woman in a white fox mask. Anyone could tell. Yet she crawled on all fours like a beast, a black collar around her neck. And...
C-crazy!
A white-furred fox tail protruded from her rear—shoved right into her anus, judging by the position. Nothing else adorned her: no clothes whatsoever. Her heaving breasts and bare pussy were on full display.
H-how does a woman go that insane...?
The serpent mask felt like he'd tumbled into a twisted world. No lowly whore would debase herself like that—tail plugged in her ass, crawling naked on all fours. You'd need zero human shame for it.
One look, and words failed him.
"Awoo!"
She even yipped like a fox, chillingly authentic. And...
That hair and those eyes...
Lustrous silver hair like fresh snow, and crimson eyes peeking from the mask—rare colors. Only one woman came to mind.
Red-Eyed Fox. But no way was this lunatic her. Hangzhou's top courtesan and Red Flower Pavilion madam wouldn't snap and do this.
Not even if she lost her mind.
Which meant...
...these guys are properly insane.
Silver fur, red eyes—the hallmarks of a snow spirit fox, perfectly mimicked. Probably with dyes and drugs. That anal tail plug was part of it too.
How could such madmen exist? The shock left him speechless. Ten-plus years as gatekeeper, and this was a first.
"Hey, stop ogling our pet and do your job."
The golden dragon mask spoke, gripping the leash attached to her collar as he approached with the human pet in tow.
"Qu-qualification."
His voice shamefully trembled—unheard of since his newbie days. Blame the shock. Irritated inwardly, the serpent mask repeated himself.
"Qualification."
"This should cover it."
The golden dragon mask tossed a pouch. Brimming with gold taels—hundreds at a glance.
Tch, rich bastard.
The serpent mask, who'd planned to clean house if short, inwardly clicked his tongue. The black bear mask tossed his pouch too.
Quick count: exactly fifty gold taels, no haggling. Passed.
The serpent mask returned the pouches. Then...
"Qualification."
Now for the passphrase.
"No-Stone Mountain holds only stones."
The golden dragon mask replied instantly. Spot on. Normally, he'd usher them in. But one issue remained.
"One short."
"What? Short how?"
"Needs one more share."
The serpent mask pointed at the fox-masked woman. Human or not, rules applied equally.
"What bullshit? We already showed the pet's share!"
The golden dragon mask raised his voice in disbelief. That pile of gold hundreds was for the pet too? What a joke.
"Rule is, each shows their own. No exceptions."
"This cute pet looks human to you? Your eyes fucked?"
"Awoooo!"
The fox woman yipped in agreement. Snap.
Who the fuck do these clowns think they are?!
"Three."
The serpent mask began counting. A death sentence.
"What's with the countdown?!"
"Two."
"Hey, get someone with eyes that work! Now!"
"One."
No sooner had he hit one than the cleaners leaped out.
A smile crept across the serpent mask's lips. These mad dogs would soon be wiped clea—huh?!
Thwack!Crunch!
"Grahk!"
The black bear mask's massive fist slammed into a cleaner's chest. Ribs shattered with a gruesome crack—several broken for sure.
"Grrrrowl!"
The fox woman snarled, baring hostility. Slap! Smack! Slap! Crack! Whap! Pow! Smack! Thwack!
With claws—no, hands—she battered the cleaner's face wildly. His mask shattered, cheeks ballooning grotesquely as he slumped unconscious.
"Wha... what?!"
The serpent mask froze, eyes wide in horror. A dream? This had to be a dream. A bear pounding a human. A fox mauling a human. This... reality?!
Grab!
"Guhk...!"
Shocked rigid, the serpent mask's collar was yanked hard by the golden dragon mask.
"Not saying it twice. Get someone who listens. Now."