A Dead End?

A vengeful spirit? Where did a vengeful spirit come from? Hei Wuchang's heart lurched. The tiny infant spirit before him posed no threat, but anyone capable of commanding one had to be a Night Wanderer. Did the leader of Dark Night Rose track me down? Are they planning to double-cross me outright? As Hei Wuchang stood gripped by shock and suspicion, hurried footsteps approached. Immediately after, a figure appeared at the alley entrance, peering curiously inside. It was a rather handsome young man, looking over with a mixture of hope and curiosity. When their eyes met, the young man's expression stiffened abruptly. In his eyes, Hei Wuchang caught emotions even more tangled than his own: pleasant surprise, shock, terror... A Night Wanderer? His aura wasn't strong—not someone from Dark Night Rose. Taiyi Sect? No, appearing here at this hour, he had to belong to the officials, a direct subordinate of Fu Qingyang... Coupled with the fact that Tiandao Bugong had been manipulated... Yuanshi Tianzun? The name flashed through Hei Wuchang's mind. Holy crap, Hei Wuchang?! Isn't he brawling back at the school? Why the hell is he here? Little Doubi screwed me over!! Zhang Yuanqing hastily pressed his wireless earpiece and shouted, "Decurion Teng Yuan! Hei Wuchang is here with me! Come quick, the location is—" Before the sentence was finished, Hei Wuchang sprang forward like a predatory raptor, vaulting off the walls. His pupils contracted into slits, and his brown irises turned amber. Sharp bone spurs sprouted from his back, elbows, and knees, tearing through his clothes with a loud rip. Sorry, excuse me, farewell! Zhang Yuanqing had no time for words. He retreated frantically while activating his Night Walk skill to fade into invisibility. Hei Wuchang attacked too fast; he didn't even have time to recall Little Doubi, only managing to send the spirit a single command: "Run!" An evil profession at the peak of the Level 6 Saint stage—let alone a Level 2 Night Wanderer like him, even a Level 4 Night Wanderer would likely perish on the spot. Hei Wuchang was the confidant of the Spirit Society's former vice president, a formidable underworld figure in his own right. Zhang Yuanqing's train of thought was crystal clear: Run! Yet he couldn't completely flee. Although he didn't know why Hei Wuchang was here, the fact that the real man stood before him meant something had gone wrong with Fu Qingyang and Elder Baihui's ambush. Right now, his duty was to tie down the man as best he could to buy time for the heavyweights. Teng Yuan had already received his transmission. Suddenly, a burning sensation tore through Zhang Yuanqing's lungs, and his throat flared with sharp, itching pain. He coughed violently, his head spinning, and his concealed figure immediately reappeared. Without him even realizing it, he had been infected by Gu poison. Crack! Hei Wuchang, bristling with bone spurs, coiled his knees and launched forward. Concrete fractured beneath his feet with a sharp crack, giving his opponent no room to react. He was confident he could slay this Night Wanderer in two to three strikes. For high-level powerhouses hunting down lower ranks, the slaughter was always swift and clean. A shrieking wind blasted against his face. Watching the enemy close in within a heartbeat, the hair on Zhang Yuanqing's back stood on end. Forcing down his agonizing discomfort, he opened his inventory with a thought. In the next instant, the golden-yellow orb appeared in his grip. His feet sank, and his shoulders felt as though pressed down by a massive mountain. Bang! Hei Wuchang pulled his right shoulder back and bent his elbow. Coiling muscles propelled his right arm forward, a straight punch piercing out like a heavy spear. The earthy-yellow curtain of light shook violently, trembling like a bubble in a gale. Thump, thump, thump... Zhang Yuanqing stumbled backward, each step cracking the pavement. Bang! Another punch landed. A soft crack came from the orb in Zhang Yuanqing's hand as hairline fractures spiderwebbed across its surface. Bang! With the third blow, the Prudent Orb could hold no longer, disintegrating into powder, and the light barrier dissolved with it. Blood trickled from Zhang Yuanqing's nose and mouth; his face was deathly pale. Without breaking stride, Hei Wuchang closed the distance. His fourth punch blasted straight toward Zhang Yuanqing's head, the displaced air detonating like an explosive shell. Zhang Yuanqing's body collapsed downward, evading the fatal strike by a hair's breadth. At some point, a pristine pair of red dancing shoes had slipped onto his feet. After dropping into full splits to dodge the straight punch, the red dancing shoes sprang upward, pirouetting through the air to evade Hei Wuchang's sweeping kick. Then, with supernatural anticipation, they executed a lateral leap to dodge a downward cleave from a bone spur. Throughout the entire routine, their master, Zhang Yuanqing, was dizzy and hacking up blood, essentially dragged along for the ride. "Quite a collection of items..." Hei Wuchang raised an eyebrow. For a Night Wanderer in the Transcendent stage to possess two items was already exceptionally wealthy. Since this Yuanshi Tianzun had cleared two S-rank Spirit Realms, he was indeed richly endowed. "Run... hurry, run..." Zhang Yuanqing rasped weakly, commanding the red dancing shoes. By now, any thought of stalling had completely vanished. He was simply too strong. A Witch Doctor at the peak of the Saint stage was utterly overwhelming—capable of an instant kill upon contact. The disparity in strength and speed was insurmountable; close-quarters combat was impossible. That was why he hadn't drawn the Bloodthirsty Blade. As for the Ghost Bride, her level was likely around the Saint stage as well, but the gap between Saints could be vast. He had no clear grasp of the Ghost Bride's exact strength, but he knew Hei Wuchang was of an evil profession and a Level 6 Saint. In that tier, precious few could best him. A single miscalculation would leave zero margin for error—only certain death. The red dancing shoes promptly carried their useless master away, their heels tapping clack-clack-clack as they dashed toward a residential building, scaling the sheer exterior wall as though strolling on flat ground. The rule of the red dancing shoes: ignore terrain. It was a supreme tool for pursuit, and at times, an equally divine tool for escape. "Trying to flee?" Hei Wuchang sneered. Instead of giving chase, he reached into the Void and pulled out a crude, palm-sized straw effigy. Purple talismans were pasted on its front and back, exuding an aura of decay and depravity. The straw doll's face twisted and squirmed, sprouting eyes and a nose until it bore Zhang Yuanqing's exact likeness, while its two feet took on a crimson glow. Pinching the effigy's feet between two fingers, Hei Wuchang squeezed hard. Sprinting up the building, Zhang Yuanqing felt his momentum suddenly stall. Looking down, he saw the pristine leather of the red dancing shoes veiled in a decaying grayish hue, as if they were battered shoes abandoned for decades. Falling out of control, he crashed heavily onto the street, kicking up clouds of fine dust. Cough, cough... Zhang Yuanqing coughed violently, hacking up traces of blood. His lungs were in critical condition, and venom coursed through his body. If not for his formidable vitality, organ failure would have killed him already. "Nice shoes. They're mine!" Pinching the straw effigy's head between two fingers, Hei Wuchang applied vicious force, preparing to casually crush this insignificant bug. Almost at the same moment, Zhang Yuanqing raised his head and howled toward the sky. A beam of pure moonlight pierced through the cloud layer, bathing his body. Howl to the Moon! Relying on this to regain a sliver of strength, he pulled the Demon-Subduing Pestle from his inventory and stabbed it forcefully into his thigh. A brilliant burst of golden radiance erupted. The grayish shadow that had just begun creeping over Zhang Yuanqing's face was instantly purged by the gold light. Frustratingly, the purifying power only worked on its wielder. The red dancing shoes remained corroded by the decay, their supernatural properties temporarily deactivated. Zhang Yuanqing gasped for breath. The purification had cleansed a portion of the poison, dulling the agonizing pain, but it did nothing more. A Saint-stage Witch Doctor possessed venom too potent and terrifying; right from the start, it had practically crippled him. The Prudent Orb was shattered. The Flame Gloves would definitely be useless. The red dancing shoes were corrupted. The Dream-Traversing Jade Talisman had already been spent. The Demon-Subduing Pestle specialized in purification rather than slaying enemies. And to keep a low profile tonight, he hadn't brought along the Cat King Speaker—though bringing it wouldn't have helped anyway... The Ghost Bride could probably stall him for a moment, but in all likelihood, she wouldn't pose a real threat to an evil profession at the peak of the Saint stage... Zhang Yuanqing mentally took inventory of all his items and realized in despair that he was trapped in a dead end. This was the most terrifying and powerful enemy he had ever faced since becoming a Spirit Realm walker. "Another item? The divine power of the sun?" Hei Wuchang was taken aback. The bead he had shattered was one thing, mere Transcendent quality, but the red dancing shoes capable of autonomous evasion and this newly revealed brass pestle were far superior in caliber to anything at the Transcendent stage. The brass pestle in particular actually contained the divine power of the sun, which meant the item held a portion of Sovereign-level power. "An unexpected delight! An unexpected delight!" Hei Wuchang burst into laughter, greedy joy gleaming in his narrow eyes. Right at that moment, a light flicked on in a second-floor window. A balding old man pushed open the window, stuck his head out, and hurled curses at the two below: "Delight your fucking mother's ass!" Oh no! Zhang Yuanqing's heart sank. Hei Wuchang raised his gaze, casting a frigid look at the balding old man. In the next second, the old man clutched his throat and foamed at the mouth, tumbling out the window. His limbs twitched several times, and he died shortly after. Zhang Yuanqing's eyelid twitched. By now, more and more windows lit up as residents in the building woke one after another. Hei Wuchang immediately shifted his gaze back to Zhang Yuanqing, eyes blazing with chilling murderous intent. Seeing this, Zhang Yuanqing hesitated no longer. He retrieved the red bridal veil and draped it over his head. Hopefully, reinforcements would arrive while the Ghost Bride held Hei Wuchang off. One second, two seconds, three seconds... Zhang Yuanqing suddenly sensed something was amiss. The terrifying, torrential yin qi had not descended, and all ambient sounds had abruptly vanished. The entire world fell into dead silence. Nor did Hei Wuchang seize the chance to strike him down. What was going on? Zhang Yuanqing instinctively tried to pull off the red bridal veil, only to discover in horror that his hands would not obey him. All he could do was roll his eyes, straining to peer through the narrow field of view beneath the veil. With that look, Zhang Yuanqing finally understood what was happening. He saw that his own body had turned a dull grayish-white, and the manhole cover and concrete ground beneath him were likewise coated in a faint wash of monochrome. Color... had been stolen away by some power? Amid his bewilderment, he suddenly heard a faint, low voice of unrecognizable timbre chuckle: "If I recall correctly, it was this exact time, this exact place... Long time no see, Hei Wuchang." Then came Hei Wuchang's voice, fraught with inexplicable terror: "It's you?! "How could it be you? How is it possible that it's you... No, this is impossible, impossible..." The voice cut off abruptly. Then, Zhang Yuanqing heard the sound of someone collapsing to the ground with a dull thud. Did someone arrive? A boss from which faction? The leader of Dark Night Rose? No, Hei Wuchang's reaction was far too extreme... Zhang Yuanqing's mind was boiling with anxiety. Yet he could not move, nor did he know what fate awaited him next. After an indeterminate time, Zhang Yuanqing, whose peripheral vision had remained fixed on that narrow view under the veil, saw the grayish-white wash recede like an ebbing tide. Color returned to the world. At once, Zhang Yuanqing tore off the red bridal veil and stared ahead. A dozen-odd meters away lay a motionless figure—Hei Wuchang. The Witch Doctor's eyes were wide and staring, his expression of horror and disbelief frozen upon his face. He was dead. Beside the corpse, an intricately crafted crystal chalice covered in cracks lay quietly. The miniature sun within the cup was gone. That person took what the Demon Lord left behind, but left the Holy Grail untouched? Befuddled, Zhang Yuanqing struggled to his feet, stumbled over to Hei Wuchang's corpse, and picked up the cracked crystal chalice. He held the rule-based item firmly in his hand.