Doing the Job

Ten minutes earlier, outside the secluded and quiet clubhouse, heavy security stood watch amid the silence. Yet, as the numerous guards patrolled constantly, none of them noticed the few figures standing right in front of the building. Shifting phantom light enveloped them, rendering them invisible even to those who brushed right past them. The guards even stepped aside on instinct to clear a path, completely unaware of what they were doing. A Celestial Chosen of the Mirror path had raised a barrier, erasing every trace of their existence. "This is the place." Ling Shuo glanced down at the message on his phone, then turned toward the youth beside him, awaiting a response. Xiao An looked blank for a moment, turned his gaze over, and suddenly realized. "It's my turn to do the job, right? Is there anything I should keep in mind?" "...Uh, stay safe?" Ling Shuo pondered for a long time, not daring to tell this young master how to conduct his business. "Anyway, do as you see fit. Just kill anyone who resists." "Understood." Xiao An nodded and smiled. His shy, bewildered look vanished, replaced by complete confidence. "Leave it to me." "Do you need anyone to help you?" Ling Shuo asked with concern. "I have a few people here who..." "Doesn't matter." An Ran looked back at the men following behind Ling Shuo, completely nonchalant. "Just don't get in my way." For an instant, the expressions of those men shifted, and one parted his lips to speak. But Ling Shuo whipped his head around, his face pitch-black against the light, his eyes chillingly cold, choking off the sound in the man's throat. *Shut up.* In the brief silence, no one spoke. Meanwhile, the youth had already strolled forward like someone on an outing. Step by step, he climbed the stairs. With a crisp chime, the automatic doors slid open to both sides. In the magnificent lobby, the receptionist behind the counter was dozing off. She raised her head blankly and saw the youth appear out of thin air. A moment of stunned bewilderment—then rustling sounds arose beside her. Among the guards in the lobby, someone was the first to react, instinctively chambering a round and raising his weapon... and then, there was no "and then." With one hand resting on the hilt of the sword at his waist, the youth raised his other hand and snapped his fingers casually. A snap. The crisp sound echoed through the lobby, blanketing the space in deadly silence, punctuated only by a relentless barrage of shattering sounds. Under the projection of sword qi, each guard who drew a weapon fell backward, blood spurting from their throats and splashing across the receptionist's frozen face. The sweet, coppery crimson liquid trickled down her rigid cheeks. Her expression twitched as she stumbled backward. Beside her, the floor manager had already reached under the counter on instinct, opening his mouth to scream at the top of his lungs... Before he could, a crimson bead of blood suddenly appeared on his forehead. He froze. A heavy thud sounded as he hit the floor. Now, the only person left in the lobby was the receptionist behind the counter. She watched the youth walk toward her step by step through pools of blood, stopping before the counter. "Hello. May I ask where the people are?" "..." In the brief, dead silence, the receptionist struggled to move her mouth, fighting down the urge to scream. Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes as she choked back sobs, barely able to speak. "Third... no, four—fourth floor... c-conference room..." "Thank you." Xiao An nodded. "Where is the elevator?" A trembling finger rose, pointing toward the right side of the lobby. "Alright. Goodbye." After taking a couple of steps, Xiao An suddenly seemed to remember something and turned back. "Don't run, or you'll be killed. Just sit down and wait a bit; you'll be fine." "Y-Yes..." The trembling receptionist collapsed onto the floor, staring at the frozen, pale expression of her manager, shivering in terror and weeping uncontrollably. Ding— The elevator arrived, opened, and closed again. Upward. A rich, sweet fragrance drifted through the air, accompanied by the melodious violin tune echoing within the cabin. Xiao An lowered his head, tapping his fingers against the sword hilt. Once, twice, three times. "Don't be impatient," he said. "It won't be long." Lihen chimed faintly, impatient and ravenous. Yet the wisps of baleful, feral aura leaking from the scabbard were like a loyal hound's tongue, licking at the youth's fingertips and palm. It tickled a bit. A little too clingy, but not unpleasant. It felt as if he had gained another good friend by his side—one that wouldn't be weak, wouldn't feel fear, wouldn't hesitate, and only wanted to stay with him, even when facing any powerful enemy. *Brother Ji Jue is so great.* The youth's smile reflected on the mirror-smooth elevator doors, bright and gentle, until the crisp chime rang out once more. The doors parted from the center, tearing through the youth's reflection. Outside the elevator, crystal chandeliers blazed in the corridor, reflecting in his pitch-black pupils. A foul, smoky atmosphere hit him in the face. The confidants and subordinates brought along by the various syndicates attending the meeting now packed the corridor in a dense crowd. By faction and affiliation, they had vaguely divided into several distinct groups. Everyone here was from the Wild Gathering; there was no talk of courtesy, restraint, or modesty. Furthermore, blood feuds ran deep among them. If the big bosses hadn't been meeting inside, a brawl would likely have erupted long ago. Now, while waiting, some smoked, some zoned out, some shot the breeze, and some were even rolling their eyes and giggling foolishly after shooting up. Discarded cigarette butts and spat-out betel nut dregs and juice littered the floor. They glared coldly at one another or wore fake smiles, standing off in silence. Until the crisp chime of the elevator opening shattered the sullen stalemate. When those countless eyes turned toward it, they saw the youth stepping out. Ten, twenty, thirty... The youth's gaze swept across those slightly startled faces. As if saying hello, he gave a slight nod: *Not bad, shouldn't be too troublesome. If I'm fast enough...* He bent at the waist, dropping into a half-crouch, his left hand pressing against the floor while his other arm hung down, hand resting on Lihen's hilt. Like a runner poised at the starting line. No greeting, no pleasantries. The instant their eyes met, there was only the consummate projection technique—Archery Rites: Calamity! The youth's figure flashed and vanished, shooting forth like a phantom. Not even the sound of rushing air could be heard. Not a single ripple was stirred; even the dust had no time to part. There was only a bone-chilling cold rushing forward. Among the crowd, an Ascension adept who had been yawning suddenly shuddered. His eyes flew wide on instinct, and his spiritus erupted. He sensed death right in front of him. Unfortunately, it was already too late. Even under an Ascension adept's Transcendent Vision, he couldn't track that figure. All he could glimpse was the blurred afterimages zigzagging through the crowd. And one unmistakable motion. Drawing the sword. Beside his ear, a chime flashed past. "..." The Ascension Celestial Chosen froze. Amid bewilderment and terror, he gave a self-mocking smile and stood petrified where he was. The others hadn't even realized what had happened. It was already over. In the span of a finger snap, the youth who had swept through the entire corridor sheathed his sword. Behind him, a lingering phantom light finally materialized late, spreading like a bird's light wings and winding gracefully through the corridor. Wherever it passed, thin lines of blood spread across faces, crisscrossing in intricate patterns. Pfft! Countless tearing sounds overlapped into a dull rumble. Severed limbs flew, and blood sprayed and splattered, coating the walls, ceiling, floor, and chandeliers of the corridor. Turning everything into the purest crimson. A single slash! "Handles so smoothly." An Ran looked down at Lihen with mild shock, praising it sincerely: "You're so strong." Lihen chimed, delighted and proud. "Right, I'm strong too." An Ran nodded, thanking it from the bottom of his heart. "Thanks for the compliment." When the doors crashed backward onto the floor, he took in the scene inside the room and froze. Hurriedly wiping away his smile, he straightened his face. Yet, after habitually apologizing for eavesdropping and giggling just now, the atmosphere turned awkward, and he didn't know what to do next. *Crap, did I say the wrong thing?* At home, there were elders. After running away from home, Sister Wen had always taken the lead. Being on his own for the first time, he truly had no experience—yet he desperately didn't want anyone to notice. Right now, his mind was completely blank. Instinctively imitating his sister's way of handling things, he tried his best to put on a stern, cold, and disdainful demeanor that looked down on all around him. He said, "Please kneel, or die." "..." Silence. An awkward silence that seemed to grow more excruciating by the second. Even the people in the conference room were momentarily stunned, unable to process where this little lackey had come from to crack jokes—and why he was so polite about it. So much so that Xiao An instinctively scratched his head before realizing: *Did I accidentally say 'please' just now?* *Should I do it over again?* *Doesn't matter.* *No one's kneeling anyway.* In that single second of waiting, Xiao An actually breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't nervous anymore. It seemed everyone intended to die. *How wonderful. That way, I don't have to worry about killing the wrong person.* Thus, An Ran drew his sword. Lihen sang loudly. A clanging resonance burst from the flickering blade, instantly engulfing the entire conference room. The sword's resonance surged violently—ferocious as thunder, tempestuous as a gale, stretching on without end. Wherever it passed, bloodlines surfaced across walls, tables, chairs, ceilings, and faces. This was a technique from the heritage left behind by the Saber-Tooth Gu clan. —[Wind-Thunder Prelude]! Flicking the blade to make a song, using the sword to raise resonance. The application of Sword Resonance lay in seeking the formless through the form, and using the formless to command the formed—touching the loftiness of the four seasons and the spirit of the great river flowing east through the transformation and mastery between being and non-being. Turning the sword into qi was merely the foundation; using qi to stir resonance was the deeper application. Because of this, the ability originally pointed to by the Gu clan's High-Rank Beckoning was [Silent Voice], which mastered formless flow; otherwise, touching the mutual transformation between form and formlessness would be exceedingly difficult. However, that missing piece had been compensated for by Ji Jue through Lihen, presenting no obstacle at all. Now, with a single swing, thunder roared and wind raged. Under exquisite control, two entirely distinct strands of sword qi collided, intensified, and spawned anew, transforming into a torrential storm of thousands of gusts that engulfed everything. In an instant, a third of the people in the conference room who failed to dodge froze where they stood. The sound of fracturing echoed incessantly as their protective creations shattered in an instant, followed immediately by their bodies blowing apart into an even, clean mist of blood without a trace left behind. At the critical juncture of life and death, Advisor Li, with his mouthful of rotten teeth, reacted with exceptional speed. The sallow complexion, wrinkles, and age spots on his face vanished in an instant, his eyes flashing with sharp light that reflected the oncoming storm of sword qi. Snapping his hands together, he barked a true word: —[Halt]! The oncoming sword qi shuddered. Instead of freezing in midair as anticipated, it ground forward like an electric drill through the frozen air, inch by inch, thrusting toward his body. Yet that single instant was enough. Without hesitation, Advisor Li vaulted outward, smashed through the window... and fled! But immediately after, his soul nearly leapt out of his skin. Because he had jumped right back in through the hole he had just smashed open! When everyone looked out the window, chills ran down their spines. What lay beyond the curtains was no longer the outside scenery, but an identical reflection of the conference room! Right now, their counterparts in the other conference room were staring blankly back at them, like reflections in a mirror. Interchanging reality and illusion—the Endless Corridor. This was the lockdown of the Mirror path! Even knowing it was an illusion, unless one could find a crack or break free in one decisive surge of force, one could only toss and turn back and forth between the two reflections with no way out. What was worse, there was still that lethal lunatic coming at them with a drawn sword. "Saber-Tooth?!" In a moment of stunned disbelief, Delento lost his voice in shock, staring fixedly at the sword-wielding youth, that face, and the ability he had just used. "No, this is Projection... You're from the An family... Wait, there must be some misun—" There was no misunderstanding, and no waiting. An Ran said nothing; he merely swung his sword. Wind and thunder stirred once more! This time, the howling wind and raging thunder converged, collapsing into a straight line. Spanning the short distance, he lunged forward, and by the time anyone recovered their senses, barrier after barrier had already been torn apart like dead wood. On the brink of life and death, an iron arm thrust forward, taking the thrust of thousands of sword qi head-on. Iron light shuddered, scored with countless gouges. It held after all! "He's not wearing gloves and has no Flying Light—what the hell are you afraid of?!" Berger, the representative sent by the family, snapped furiously. "He's just a Metamorphosis, and you're scared out of your wits?!" Seeing the impassioned Delento scared witless by mere Projection infuriated him: *Your uncle really spoiled you too much.* "When doing big things, where is there room for second-guessing? Look at them—take him down first, damn it!" Even before Delento could speak, Feng Mo from the Shiye Wild Gathering and Gerber from the Iron Hook District had already dashed forward, launching a ferocious assault on An Ran without hesitation! Three figures collided, sword resonance ringing high and clear, sparks spraying incessantly. An Ran's figure flew backward. In the span of an inch, he evaded a slashing blade and a palm thrusting from behind, refusing to entangle himself. Within this conference room—cramped by White Stag standards—he flitted about like lightning, paying no heed to the two assailants pressing their attack. *Brother Ji Jue said before: don't butt heads with the tough ones; pick on the soft persimmons first!* *Brother Ji Jue is right!* The sword resonance shuddered. The magnificent wind and thunder vanished, [Wind-Thunder Prelude] dissipating, replaced by [Melody of Longshuo]! No vast, desolate chime could be heard, only ripples surging within the soul—this technique did not act outward, but upon oneself! Spiritus shuddered and erupted like a blaze. Pale flame enveloped the youth's figure, causing his speed to surge once more—faster, and faster still! Even under siege, the sword qi he unleashed traveled like living creatures under the augmentation of Projection, whipping up another storm of blood and gore within the conference room. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Explosive roars rang out without end. Watching Xiao An harvest head after head right in front of him, Feng Mo, unable to catch up, flew into a rage: "Little bastard, you're courting death!" *I wanted to spare your life, but now... you might as well die!* The entire conference room suddenly shuddered. The air turned viscous out of nowhere, making it difficult to breathe. The slashing sword qi shattered, and a layer of bizarre, shimmering scales appeared across Feng Mo's body, with prominent horns rising on his head like a flood dragon! Regeneration form manifested. The moisture in the air turned ice-cold, wrapping around the trapped figure like blades and slowing his speed. Yet Feng Mo was like a fish in water, his speed exploding as he pounced forward! Before that, however, a bloody wound had already burst open on An Ran's chest. Pierced through! From his shadow, a bizarre hand extended out of thin air, punching through his back, crushing his heart, and thrusting out through his chest. The moment An Ran's attention was drawn by Feng Mo, Gerber had silently manifested his Regeneration form, instantly diving into the shadows for a lethal strike. The brutal force within the shadow hand erupted, spreading and rampaging through his soul. Lihen flew from his grip. "I thought it was some kind of Hunting Finger, but it turns out to be such an embarrassing piece of trash." Feng Mo seized him by the neck, hoisting the youth into the air. Grinning savagely, his five fingers tightened inch by inch. "I don't give a damn who you are—I'll clean up your family's mess for them!" The youth's lips moved silently, as if letting out a soft sigh. *What a pity.* *I thought I could be a bit greedier and take a few more. Looks like this is the limit.* *Doesn't matter. It's about enough anyway.* In that moment, An Ran closed his eyes and whispered a soft sigh: *Then—* *—with this quarry, an offering to the White Stag!* The instant those eyes opened again, what he saw was a magnificent outline like an illusion. At the end of the endless wilderness, a giant stag with wolf carcasses hanging from its antlers lowered its gaze, looking down upon him. Within its dazzling eyes seemed to reside eternal principles, witnessing endless life and slaughter, the cycle of the four seasons, until the seas turned to mulberry fields. A thousand years, ten thousand years, flashed by in a heartbeat. When he came to his senses, he heard a tempestuous call. The summoning of the White Stag. And so, at the edge of the wilderness, a savage silhouette appeared. A behemoth pieced together from endless rusted blades and swords opened its eyes. The lost beast that should have been completely forgotten roared to the heavens. Step by step it strode forward, looking upon its long-awaited inheritor after so many years. Examining carefully, scrutinizing with cold detachment. Gazing into that pair of calm eyes, it found no wavering, no hesitation. And so, the beast smiled silently, bared its fangs, and lunged forward, plunging into his body to shatter the final, trifling barrier for him! A crisp sound rang out, like a door swinging open. For all these years, the boundary he couldn't cross for lack of Flying Light's guidance shattered with a snap under the drive of Sword Resonance! In an instant of dead silence, An Ran finally opened his eyes for real. On his blood-stained face, those eyes held no more innocence or shyness—only a cruelty and coldness that mirrored the beast's own. Crack— A fracturing sound rang out from Feng Mo's body. The hand he had extended was sheared off cleanly at the elbow! Amid spraying blood, a blade materialized in the youth's hand and stabbed down toward his feet, effortlessly disrupting the coalescing shadow, sending droplets of inky blood flying. Regeneration form, manifested! In the spark of a flint, everyone instinctively wanted to close the distance and launch a furious assault. But when they gathered their wits, they did not see that strand of Flying Light that severed life and death. Involuntarily, their hair stood on end! *Wait!* *Oh crap, the Saber-Tooth lineage's Regeneration form... if I remember right, it's...* Surrounded on all sides, the dying An Ran spat blood, grinned, chuckled soundlessly, and raised his hand. A snap of his fingers! The sword resonance rang out again like a summons and a battle cry, causing the Lihen sword that had been knocked away to sing in excitement, iron luster surfacing within the crimson light. Boundless sword qi surged forth, intertwining to coalesce into a tangible form, standing guard before An Ran. Like a monster pieced together from countless sword edges and blade points, ravenous and ferocious, brutal and violent! Sword qi taking form; resonance breathing life! Founded upon the shift between form and formlessness of sword qi, with his own life and soul as the source, forged and remolded from the essence of Supreme Goodness, he attained a brand-new realm where man and sword were one, mutually transforming and completing each other. This was the Regeneration form unique to An Ran—[Form of Lihen]!