Alcoholic

This wave of malice was extraordinarily intense and pure. Even though a Starlord lacked the danger intuition of a Bewitching Demon or a Scout, Zhang Yuanqing could still clearly sense its presence. Such malice obviously couldn't have come from Annie or Mr. Bill. *Did someone from the Bacchus Club come knocking? Tsk, Mr. Bill is an old hand in the Jianghu, so how could he be this careless...?* Connecting this to recent events, Zhang Yuanqing formed a quiet deduction in his mind. Feigning ignorance, he smiled and said, "Mr. Bill is busy? Then I'll visit another day!" Although he wanted to help Mr. Bill and Annie, without knowing the enemy's numbers and methods, and without having brought his yin corpse along, he planned to withdraw first and call Fu Qingyang right away. Having said that, he turned to leave. To his surprise, the moment he took a step forward, his body stumbled into a forward fall. Neither of his legs had moved; his brain seemed to have lost control over them. It wasn't possession. Zhang Yuanqing had never encountered such a situation before. He hurriedly braced the ground with one hand, saving himself from kissing the floor. Just then, a sharp *thwip* rang out as a lethal bullet tore in from his left, striking him caught off guard. It hit right on his cranium, the enormous impact snapping his head to the side. With a Starlord's defense, a large-caliber bullet hitting a vital point at close range would inflict severe trauma, even if it wasn't fatal. Yet the bullet fell to the floor with a clatter, bouncing several times without causing the target any harm. Unscratched, Zhang Yuanqing focused his gaze. The bullet head was silver and engraved with intricate patterns. —The moment he had stumbled, his other hand had already retrieved the Unyielding Heart-Protecting Mirror. *Pew, pew, pew!* A rapid succession of gunshots echoed right after. The ambusher refused to believe their eyes, pumping round after round into him. Every single bullet was stopped by a thin "shell," the tips sending faint ripples across its surface. Braving the dense barrage, Zhang Yuanqing turned to look toward the end of the hallway. Standing by the doorway leading to the office area was a bald man, roughly 1.9 meters tall, wearing a fitted T-shirt over a hulking muscular build, his arms covered in tattoos. Green eyes, a high-bridged nose, and deep-set eye sockets—distinctly Western features. "Hmph!" Snorting coldly, Zhang Yuanqing rolled across the floor and entered Night Walk. He did not counterattack immediately. Instead, he took out the Lucky Necklace and put it on. That fellow just now seemed capable of manipulating a target's body, causing them to trip for no reason. Though he didn't know the exact mechanics behind it, wearing the Lucky Necklace could make him lucky enough to avoid, to a certain degree, the negative effects placed on his body. Next, he summoned the Bloodthirsty Blade into his grip and swiftly closed in on the bald man. "A Night Wanderer?" The bald man's brow twitched, clearly recognizing his foe's profession. He quickly drew out a conch shell, brought it to his lips, and blew into it with a wail. Amidst the slightly piercing sonic waves, a massive surge of illusory seawater gushed from the conch, coalescing into a towering steed formed entirely of phantom water. It reared back with a neigh and charged forward along the narrow hallway. Behind it came rolling layers of surging waves. The charging power of the steed was immense, but still within what a Starlord could withstand. However, the cascading, churning waves left absolutely no room to dodge in this confined corridor. Zhang Yuanqing halted, gripped the Bloodthirsty Blade in a reverse hold, and threw a straight punch at the steed. *Boom!* A sound like crashing, dispersing waves resonated in the air as the oncoming water steed was shattered by his sheer force. Inevitably, his figure reappeared, stumbling back a few paces. *Shattering the water steed with brute force? This is a Starlord?* The bald man's expression changed. A drunken haze clouded his pupils, and his gaze turned unfocused, like an intoxicated wretch. Immediately after, he spun around, decisively abandoning the fight to flee into the office area. The next instant, a graceful figure in a crimson wedding gown materialized behind him, pressing tight against his back and freezing the bald man on the spot. Zhang Yuanqing, completely unaffected, dissolved into a dreamlike shower of starlight. He reappeared behind the foreigner, driving the Bloodthirsty Blade diagonally upward. *Squelch!* The sharp tip pierced the man's heart. Dark red blood instantly welled up along the blade, turning into a trickling stream that soaked into the synthetic carpet. Twisting the hilt with his right hand, Zhang Yuanqing cocked his left fist and slammed a hook into the man's temple. *Bang!* The man's head snapped sideways, his cervical vertebrae snapping, leaving his skull dangling limply over his shoulder. Zhang Yuanqing pulled out the blade and listened intently for a few seconds. Beyond the door, the office area remained dead silent, seemingly undisturbed by the fight outside. *With this man guarding here, he definitely has accomplices inside. The commotion just now was loud enough for a blind man to hear, so the people inside couldn't possibly have missed it. Has the battle reached a critical point where they can't afford to be distracted? *Or are they waiting right behind the door to ambush me? Fortunately, for a Starlord, none of that is an issue.* Murmuring under his breath, Zhang Yuanqing did not charge in recklessly. Instead, he dragged the bald man's corpse to the reception desk. First, he found a compact mirror on the receptionist's desk, flipped it open, and checked his physiognomy. His fortune was no different from when he arrived: his Misfortune Palace was slightly dim, but not even enough to suggest an injury. *Clack!* He snapped the mirror shut. The starlight in his eyes faded, replaced by surging darkness. Inside the bald man's corpse, fragmented spirit quickly gathered, condensing into a ghostly, flailing silhouette. Zhang Yuanqing cast Spirit Devouring and swallowed it in a single gulp. Fragmented memories flashed by like slides. Through the key fragments, he gained a general understanding of the man's life. The bald man was named Josh Enoch, an intermediate member of the Bacchus Club. He oversaw ten to fifteen junior members, a rank equivalent to a team leader in the Five Elements Alliance. This time, he had secretly entered Songhai alongside a team of senior members to assist the club's top echelon in searching for the Merchant Guild's president. As for how many high executives had arrived—whether it was the legendary Boss who founded the club with his own hands or several platinum members from the Operations Department—he had no idea. The senior member team only needed to wait for orders and execute them. The operation against Bill Tarantino was led by a senior member named Beck Vernal, a level-5 Saint, assisted by another Saint named Yule Bahn, along with four intermediate members. It was worth noting that Beck Vernal possessed an item from the Eternal Night profession. To ensure the operation went smoothly and prevent the prey from escaping, he had used the item to seal the entire office area, cutting it off from the outside world. Furthermore, by reading the memories, Zhang Yuanqing discovered the profession of the Bacchus Club's members—Alcoholic. *The office area is sealed off? No wonder there was no sound from inside despite the racket out here... There are still two Saints and three Extraordinaires inside. Bill and Annie are Saints too, but probably only level 4. Besides, Void and Desire aren't professions built for head-on brawling. They're in serious danger...* Zhang Yuanqing immediately pulled out his phone and dialed Fu Qingyang. "What is it?" The Money Prince's familiar voice came through the speaker, crisp, articulate, and frigid. "Boss, Mr. Bill and Annie are under attack by the Bacchus Club..." He summarized the situation as quickly as possible. "I understand." Fu Qingyang's voice remained calm. "Are you certain your physiognomy showed no sign of bloody calamity?" "Yes, I checked it twice today." Although puzzled by Fu Qingyang's apparent lack of urgency, Zhang Yuanqing answered patiently. "There's a Saint-quality consumable in the faction storage called 'Bomberman's Symphony.' Use it to break the seal. Yuanshi, the mission to rescue Bill is in your hands," Fu Qingyang said. *What?* Zhang Yuanqing was stunned. As if anticipating his confusion, Fu Qingyang explained: "We cannot confirm whether a Dominator, or even the Boss of the Bacchus Club, is lurking in the dark to ambush reinforcements. If so, rushing over right now could easily make me capsize in the gutter. "Since you checked your fortune and confirmed you are unharmed, it indicates the Bacchus Club's top brass likely disdains moving against a small fry and chose to stay hidden, which means you are safe. "If this is all just my conjecture and no one is watching from the shadows, then stepping in now will still allow you to save Bill and Annie without needing my help." *The logic is airtight. Fu Qingyang really is steady and cautious. Still, even if I really am a small fry before true big shots, there's no need to put it so bluntly...* While complaining inwardly, Zhang Yuanqing opened the White Tiger Guards' faction storage. Scrolling down quickly through the dazzling array of items, he located "Bomberman's Symphony." The so-called "Bomberman's Symphony" was simply a block of C4 explosives—a neat, square shape wrapped in intricate wiring, its sheet-metal casing bearing only a single red button. *Press the red button, explodes after ten seconds...* Zhang Yuanqing immediately placed the bomb against the glass doors and pressed the button. Then he sprinted away as fast as his legs could carry him, just like setting off firecrackers as a kid. By this point, the office area was already a complete mess. Dozens of employees lay unconscious, some slumped over desks, others collapsed in the aisles. Some were still alive, while others had already perished in the battle's crossfire, their blood staining the synthetic carpet red. With more than a third of the staff killed, both sides' Morality Points had plunged sharply. They had been forced to soften their attacks, holding back their AOE skills and relying as much as possible on micro-control to minimize further casualties. The sprawling office floor was divided into two distinct battlegrounds. Bill Tarantino and Beck Vernal occupied one. The old gentleman with greying temples, relying on the stealth of the Void profession and a deep cache of items, was struggling desperately under the assault of the level-5 Saint. He had swapped into a pair of finely crafted black shoes; whenever a crisis hit, he would execute a slide tackle straight at Beck, which managed to defuse the danger every time. Yet this could not last indefinitely. The other battleground belonged to Annie and her opponents: the level-4 Saint Yule Bahn—a woman with silver-white hair, heavy smoky eye makeup, and a studded leather jacket—and the three Extraordinaire wanderers assisting her. By now, only one assistant remained. The other two had stripped off their pants and were sprawled over female employees, dead for quite some time with rock-hard boners. At the start of the battle, Annie had ignited their lust, filling their minds with primal mating urges that burned away all reason. Then, while they attempted to vent their desire on the unconscious female staff, she blew the two Extraordinaires' heads off. The surviving one possessed a Wind Mage item that tracked a target's movements through air currents. Thus, he had blinded his own eyes in advance, "ignoring" Annie's charm and firing his gun from a distance, which kept him from meeting the same gruesome fate as his companions. Annie's situation was no better than Bill Tarantino's. She was not adept at close combat, she was facing two enemies, and evil professions naturally outmatched orthodox ones in pure combat prowess. The only reason she had held out until now was her flexible use of skills combined with the hoard of items she had amassed over the years. In just ten-odd minutes, three of her items had been destroyed. She had taken three blade cuts and suffered two broken ribs, leaving her in a truly battered state. Barefooted, her suit skirt torn open along one side, Annie ducked behind an office desk and lunged forward. Behind her came the sound of bullets tearing through the desk and ripping into flesh. The female employee "slumbering" on the desk took two bullets through the back, dying without a sound. *Damn it, if I'd known, I would have bound my chest first...* With one hand half-massaging, half-supporting her heaving, trembling bust, she reached her other hand past the edge of the desk and fired back at the shooter. The gun in her hand was silver-white, with a bore larger than a Desert Eagle. It was an auto-aiming firearm; the wielder only needed to pull the trigger toward a target, and the pistol would automatically adjust the trajectory. It was an item from the Scout profession, imbued with Insight. Although it was merely of Extraordinaire quality, its firepower was immense. Furthermore, the bullets in the magazine had been enhanced by a Wind Mage, granting them terrifying armor penetration that could effortlessly punch through a tank. *Bang, bang!* Two bullets tore through the flooring, followed only then by an ear-splitting sonic boom. The expansive office belatedly whipped up a fierce gale, scattering documents into the air. Yet the blindfolded enemy seemed to have anticipated her attack, having already dodged out of the way beforehand. Immediately after, Annie felt a terrifying murderous aura closing in. Her vision went dark as a figure leaped onto the desk she was hiding behind. It was the Saint Yule Bahn. Her knees sinking, the cold-faced female Saint leaned forward, slashing down with her short sword, her eyes turning unfocused and steeped in drunken haze. She cast Brain Paralysis on Annie. In this state, the target's limbs would lose coordination and refuse to obey commands, leaving them like a dead-drunk wretch turned into a lamb for the slaughter. Feeling the howling wind above her head, Annie seemed to realize she could not escape her doom. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes, her smile turning sorrowful and poignant. The stony-faced Yule Bahn felt her heart shudder. The drunken haze in her eyes dissolved, replaced by conflict, pity, and reluctance. Her downward slash stopped dead in midair, forcibly reined back. Enchantment! This skill was an enhanced version of Charm, effective across genders, though women were ultimately less affected by it than men. The Desire profession was unsuited for combat, yet its members could maneuver freely through high-stakes situations precisely because of this divine survival skill. Seizing the chance, Annie raised her silver pistol to pull the trigger on Yule Bahn. However, the motion she made was instead hurling the gun like a rock at the enemy. Cognitive Error! Like a drunken sot, she had forgotten how to use a firearm. Confusion was a hallmark characteristic of the Alcoholic profession. Within just a few seconds, both Saints had used their respective methods to defuse each other's lethal moves. Annie didn't bother trying to retrieve the pistol. She spun around and bolted barefoot, at the same time pulling a half-body-sized silicone doll from her inventory and tossing it behind her. *Clang!* Yule Bahn cleaved the office desk in two with a single strike, hitting nothing. Just as she was about to pursue the coquettish slut, she saw the fleeing Annie throw a doll of indeterminate gender backward. The female Saint originally intended to slash the doll apart, but an overwhelming wave of longing suddenly surged in her heart, as if the doll were her sweet first love, her beautiful childhood, the irreplaceable darling of her life. At the same time, the fleeing Annie inflamed her enemy's lust. The female Saint's eyes instantly turned glazed, a feverish blush spreading across her cheeks. Her thighs clamped together abruptly as a torrent of wet heat surged beneath her leather pants. Abandoning the chase, she wrapped her arms around the doll, panting as she reached down to undo her waistband. When passion ran that deep, welcoming with parted thighs was all that mattered; there was no room for anything else... Just as her waistband came undone, a flash of ruthlessness cut through Yule Bahn's dazed eyes. With one hand still passionately clutching the doll as she knelt on it, grinding against it, her other hand left her waistband and clawed at the air. A tin triangular talisman painted with blue lightning patterns appeared in her grasp, and she crushed it with all her might. *Zzzzt!* With her fingers at the epicenter, twisted serpents of blue lightning shot out in all directions like flailing tentacles. Yule Bahn let out a shrill shriek, her silver hair standing on end as violent spasms rocked her frame. Ahead of her, Annie was clipped by a bolt of lightning. Her slender body stiffened abruptly, shivering where she stood. *Bang, bang!* Seizing the moment, the blindfolded Extraordinaire in the distance aimed at Annie and fired two shots. One aimed for her back, the other for the back of her head. Annie was just about to round a corner. The bullet aimed at her head slammed into a structural pillar, blasting out a crater amidst spraying debris. The other round, however, struck her squarely in the back. The penetrating force knocked her to the ground, blood instantly soaking through the fabric on her back. As the thrashing electrical arcs faded, Yule Bahn picked up her blade and staggered toward the fallen Annie. *Cough, cough...* Annie coughed violently, bringing up frothy, bloody fluid. Her lung had been shredded by the shot. Listening to the staggering footsteps approaching behind her, despair flooded her heart. Right then, a thunderous boom erupted from the distance. A violent shockwave wrapped in flames tore through everything in its path, sweeping into the office area. Bill Tarantino and Beck Vernal, locked in bitter struggle, halted simultaneously and turned toward the explosion. Yule Bahn also spun around with her blade raised, adopting a guarded stance. *Who... who's here?* Annie strained to lift her head, peering through the gap between office desks with an ashen face. She happened to see a dreamlike shower of starlight coalesce behind the blindfolded enemy, forming the silhouette of Yuanshi Tianzun, and saw him sweep a sharp blade cleanly across the enemy's neck. This movement technique created not the slightest disturbance in the air. Before the man could even react, his head rolled cleanly off his neck.