I am NOT a Demon Queen!

Before Su Yao could respond, the penthouse elevator dinged. Its doors slid open. Three figures in grey suits emerged, their postures rigid. Reflective data-glasses concealed their eyes.

They filed past Su Yao without slowing, their footsteps measured against the marble floor. One shoulder brushed close enough to stir the edge of her sleeve. None of them turned. Their attention went straight to Zhao Ze.

A woman with a razor-sharp bob stepped forward and held up a digital warrant scroll. “Zhao Ze. You’re under arrest by the National Taxation Administration for willful and systematic tax evasion, falsification of corporate ledgers, and illicit offshore fund transfers totaling 7.8 billion credits.”

The air went still. Su Yao’s foxfire flickered.

Zhao Ze sputtered. Blood trickled from his lip. “What? This is a battlefield! I’m in the middle of a sacred war against primordial evil!”

The lead tax agent held his gaze. “Your sacred war isn’t a recognized charitable deduction. You failed to declare the 500 million credit payment to the entity known as ‘Viper’ as a business expense. The documentation was insufficient.”

Zhang Wei stared. “You’re arresting him for tax evasion? Now?”

“The law is timeless,” the agent replied. She produced a pair of spirit-suppressing handcuffs. “We’ve been building this case for months. His violent altercation with a non-registered spiritual entity simply provided the opportunity for a safe arrest.”

She clicked the cuffs onto Zhao Ze’s wrists. His immense physical power seemed to drain away the moment they locked, leaving him bruised and broken in a torn suit. Su Yao’s tail uncoiled, dropping him to the floor.

He looked up at Su Yao. “You called the tax bureau on me?”

Su Yao looked down at him. “I did not,” she said. “But it’s a far more fitting end than any I could have devised. Your empire built to impress a fox falls to a decimal point.”

As the agents hauled him to his feet, he screamed over his shoulder, “She’ll know what I did for her!”

“Sir,” the lead agent interrupted, “you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used to adjust your tax liability.”

They dragged him into the elevator. The doors closed, leaving Su Yao and Zhang Wei alone in silence.

Zhang Wei let out a long breath. “Well. That’s one way to neutralize a threat.”

Su Yao’s form shimmered. Her nine tails retracted, leaving her as Xiao Ling amid the rubble. “It certainly is,” she conceded.

She looked toward the window. The lights of Shenzhen flickered back to life. “It seems the ‘fox’ in Nova Moskva will be receiving a very different kind of surprise than he planned.”

Su Yao turned from the shattered window. The celestial aura had faded, leaving only the chill of the night air. “Any progress on the shrimp and battery investigation?” she asked.

Zhang Wei pulled out his tablet. “Right. The shrimp from the Tezca gala is confirmed radioactive, Caesium-137, just as Bai Lang detected. It seems Zhao Ze was cutting costs on the catering to free up funds for his other endeavors. He used a cheap supplier with lax safety protocols, and the seafood was contaminated.”

Su Yao’s lip curled. “Mortal incompetence poisoning their own feast. How fitting. And the battery?”

Zhang Wei tapped the screen, pulling up a technical report. “The perpetual battery in that smartphone you received is siphoning power directly from the Dark Realm. That kind of access isn’t something the Aesthetes could manage alone. It requires the Hundred Demons’ expertise in spiritual mechanics. This means the Hundred Demons and the Aesthetes have formed an alliance. They’re pooling resources.”

“An alliance between factions that treated each other as their rival?” Su Yao’s eyes narrowed. “There must be a compelling reason for them to set aside their differences. What forced their hand?”

Zhang Wei scrolled through the data on his tablet. “The intel we’ve gathered points to a larger threat. All indications suggest they’re preparing for an extraterrestrial invasion.”

Su Yao raised an eyebrow. “Extraterrestrial? You mean the ‘aliens’ Bai Lang is so obsessed with?”

“Exactly,” Zhang Wei confirmed. “The Hundred Demons believe that a unified front under a strong leader is necessary to repel an external threat, while the Aesthetes see this as an opportunity to reshape the world in their image after the conflict. They’re using the invasion as a catalyst for their own goals.”

Su Yao processed this. “So, the enemy of my enemy is a useful pawn. But are these aliens real, or just another fabrication?”

“That’s the problem,” Zhang Wei said. “We have evidence of unusual celestial phenomena and increased activity in the outer realms. Bai Lang’s theories might not be so far-fetched after all. The Dark Realm power source in the battery is just one piece. They’re amassing spiritual weapons and recruiting heavily, all under the pretext of defending against an external force.”

Su Yao’s gaze sharpened. “What of the Wild Hunt? Where do they stand in this?”

Zhang Wei pulled up another file on his tablet. “The Wild Hunt have their own interpretation. They believe what the Hundred Demons and Aesthetes see as an ‘alien threat’ is actually Princess Kaguya, the lunar entity from legend. They think she’s returning from the moon, and they see her as the ultimate quarry and a hunt that would define their legacy.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Kaguya? So the moon conspiracy deepens. If the Wild Hunt are fixated on her, it means they’re likely operating independently, chasing their own obsession rather than aligning with the others.”

“Exactly,” Zhang Wei said. “It creates a three-way split in their efforts. The Hundred Demons and Aesthetes are building an army for defense, while the Wild Hunt are preparing for a solo hunt. It might make them easier to pick off.”

“Or more dangerous if they stumble into something they can’t handle,” Su Yao countered. “Keep monitoring them. If Kaguya is involved, we need to be prepared for all outcomes.”

“What will you do now?” Zhang Wei asked.

Su Yao stretched as the last remnants of her celestial aura dissipated. “I will relax. It has been awhile since I set foot in the mainland. I believe I will do some sightseeing around Shenzhen.”

Zhang Wei pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just don’t cause trouble, please. The city has been through enough.”

“Don’t worry. I’m merely a humble tourist.” She turned to leave then paused, glancing back over her shoulder. “For instance, I won’t go to Luoyang and kidnap the Empress from her heavily guarded palace to settle a millennium-old grievance about trade route tariffs. That would be troublesome.”

Zhang Wei stared at her, his face paling. “You weren’t even thinking about that until just now, were you?”

“Of course not,” Su Yao said. “The thought never crossed my mind.”

Su Yao phased at the entrance of Splendid China Folk Village and paid the entrance fee with a few crumpled bills from Xiao Ling’s wallet. She moved through the miniature landscapes, her hands clasped behind her back.

She stopped before a tiny replica of the Forbidden City. “Hmph. The scale is off. The Meridian Gate is at least three meters too short.”

A nearby tour guide overheard her. “This is a miniature park, madam. It’s not meant to be exact.”

“It’s a failure of representation,” Su Yao stated and moved on.

She found herself in a section showcasing ethnic dances. A group of performers in vibrant costumes was executing a lively routine. Su Yao watched for forty-seven seconds.

“The footwork is sloppy. The third dancer from the left is half a beat behind. In my Eternal Banquet, such a performance would have resulted in the dancers being reassigned to latrine duty for a century.”

A woman standing next to her bristled. “That’s a bit harsh! They’re trying their best.”

“Trying isn’t succeeding,” Su Yao replied, and walked away before the woman could form a retort.

Her final stop was a food stall selling candied hawthorn berries on a stick. She observed the vendor dip the fruit into the bubbling sugar.

“One,” she said, placing a coin on the counter.

The vendor handed her a stick. She took a bite and the crimson sugar shell cracked.

“Your sugar-to-fruit ratio is acceptable. The hawthorn itself is pathetically small and lacking in tartness. I recall berries from the northern slopes of Kunlun that could make a god’s eyes water.”

Su Yao handed the partially eaten stick back to the vendor. “Your technique is adequate, but your ingredients are a disgrace.”

Then she turned and walked out of the park, leaving the vendor staring at the rejected treat.

Zhang Wei’s voice buzzed in her phone. “Just checking in. Everything quiet?”

“Perfectly,” Su Yao said, phasing into an empty alley. “I’ve assessed the local culture. It’s found wanting. I’m now going to find a satisfactory meal. Don’t contact me again unless the moon falls from the sky.”

“...Right. Enjoy your meal.”

“I intend to.”

Su Yao phased from the alley onto a bustling commercial street. The mingled scents of a dozen different cuisines immediately assaulted her senses. Her nose wrinkled.

“This era’s culinary arts are a cry for help.” she muttered.

A nearby stall blasted a cooking video on a cracked screen of some man in an orange polo theatrically scolding a wok for its inadequacies.

“Why no MSG?” the man wailed. “Haiyaa.”

Su Yao stared at the screen, then at the food sizzling below it. “So even their culinary sages must beg for flavor,” she said. After a moment, she sniffed again. “At least this Uncle Roger understands the power of monosodium glutamate.”

She passed a popular hot pot restaurant with steamy windows. The air was thick with the smell of chili and bone broth. She barely slowed down. “A communal cauldron of indiscriminate boiling. How Barbaric.”

A Western-style steakhouse was next. She peered through the glass at a sizzling platter. “The cow died for this? It’s an insult to the concept of sacrifice.”

She stopped outside an unassuming shop tucked between a bubble tea place and a mobile phone store. A simple sign read ‘Auntie Wu’s Noodles.’ The scent of fresh scallions and hand-pulled wheat noodles was inviting.

There was a line. Su Yao’s eyes narrowed. She ignored the queue, phasing to the front counter where an elderly woman with capable hands was deftly pulling strands of dough into noodles.

“One. The best you have,” Su Yao commanded, placing a banknote on the counter.

“Queue,” Auntie Wu said.

“I don’t queue.”

“Then you don’t eat.” Auntie Wu flicked a wrist, and the noodles spun into a boiling pot.

Su Yao’s eyes flashed with celestial light for a fraction of a second. The people in the line behind her shuffled back a step. However, Auntie Wu continued sprinkling chopped scallions into a bowl.

The line fell silent around them.

After a few moments, Su Yao let out a breath. She walked to the very back of the line and crossed her arms. It took her eleven minutes of rigid standing to reach the front again.

Auntie Wu looked at her. “What do you want now?”

“One. The best you have,” Su Yao repeated.

Auntie Wu nodded. The bowl came together under her practiced hands. Clear golden broth filled the base, followed by springy white noodles. Scallions and two thin slices of perfectly tender cha shiu pork completed it, and she set the bowl on the counter.

Su Yao took the bowl to a rickety table. The chopsticks snapped apart in her hands. She took a single bite of the noodles and chewed with critical focus.

Then she took a sip of the broth.

She set the chopsticks down. “Adequate. The noodles possess the correct texture and the pork is not an affront. It’s acceptable.”

Su Yao ate the entire bowl in silence. She placed the empty bowl back on the counter where the banknote still lay.

Auntie Wu pushed the money back toward her. “For a sincere customer, it’s on the house.”

Su Yao looked at the money, then at the old woman before giving an almost imperceptible nod. “Your integrity does not go unnoticed.”

She phased from the shop, leaving the money on the counter and the other customers staring. Outside, she pulled out her phone.

Zhang Wei’s voice came through. “Yes? What happened? Did you blow up a restaurant?”

“I found a satisfactory meal,” Su Yao stated.

“...That’s it? You, just ate?”

Her phone buzzed again. She answered with a sigh. “What?”

“It’s just unusual. You ‘sightseeing’ and eating a meal without critiquing it into oblivion or leveling the building. Forgive me for being cautious.”

“What is wrong with that?” Su Yao asked. “Would you prefer I visit the Russian Empire consulate and re-litigate the Treaty of Aigun over the perceived inadequacy of their blini? I could create a diplomatic incident before dessert. Is that a more productive use of my afternoon?”

The line went silent for a long moment. “No. That will not be necessary.”

“Then cease your prattling. I’m content to be a tourist for the moment. Don’t tempt me into becoming a geopolitical event.”

“Understood. Enjoy your continued non-destructive tourism.”

“See that you do.” She pocketed the phone. Her gaze swept over the modern skyline. The Russian consulate was only a few blocks away, but she wasn’t in the mood for blini today.

Su Yao paused on the street. Her eyes caught on a quaint storefront with a sign that read ‘JoJo Cafe and Souvenirs.’ Below, it advertised ‘Authentic Turkish Coffee & Fortune Telling’ in smaller letters.

Her eyebrow arched. The idea of having her fortune read by coffee grounds was a novel curiosity.

She pushed the door open and a bell jingled overhead. The interior was dimly lit, filled with the earthy scent of coffee and the clutter of various trinkets. A woman with dark hair and a colorful headscarf looked up from behind a counter adorned with small cups and pots.

“Welcome,” the woman said. “Would you like to try our Turkish coffee? I can read your fortune after.”

Su Yao approached the counter. Her gaze swept over the souvenirs. “I will have one coffee and this fortune telling.”

The woman smiled. “Of course. Please have a seat.” She gestured to a small table nearby.

Su Yao sat upright as the woman prepared the coffee in a traditional cezve. After a few minutes, she brought over a small cup of dark coffee on a saucer.

“Drink it, but leave the grounds in the cup,” the woman instructed. “Then, turn the cup upside down on the saucer and let it cool.”

Su Yao took the cup, sipping the coffee. “It’s bitter, but adequate.” Following the instructions, she drank it and placed the cup upside down with a definitive click.

The woman waited a moment, then picked up the cup and began to examine the patterns left by the grounds. “This is unusual,” she murmured. Her brow furrowed.

Su Yao leaned forward. “Explain.”

“The grounds form a shape like a fox with many tails,” the woman said. “And there’s a great darkness around it, but also a light from above. It speaks of a long journey and a choice that will affect many.”

Su Yao’s eyes narrowed. “Vague generalities. Is that all?”

The woman looked up, meeting Su Yao’s gaze. “No. There’s more. It says you aren’t what you seem. You wear a mask, but your true self is emerging. And you will face a threat from beyond the stars.”

Su Yao snorted. “Beyond the stars? You’ve been listening to too many fairy tales.” She stood up, placing a few bills on the table. “Your coffee is passable, but your fortune telling is entertainment at best.”

As she turned to leave, the woman called out, “Wait! The cup also shows a reunion. Someone from your past will return, bringing both danger and clarity.”

Su Yao paused at the door, glancing back. “My past is littered with corpses and fools. If anyone returns, it will be to join them.” She stepped out into the street. The bell jingled behind her.

Her phone buzzed. Zhang Wei was calling again. “Everything alright? Our sensors picked up a minor spiritual fluctuation near your location.”

“Everything is fine,” Su Yao replied. “I merely subjected myself to the superstitious ramblings of a coffee reader. It was as enlightening as expected.”

“Right. Well, just remember, no diplomatic incidents.”

“Don’t worry,” Su Yao said. A smile played on her lips. “The only incident here was the quality of the prophecy.”

She ended the call and continued her stroll. After a few steps, she glanced up at the stars. “Ridiculous.”