"To save your deacon, of course." Dropping that single sentence, Zhang Yuanqing suddenly charged forward, sword in hand, dashing across the street, weaving through the gang members, and running straight for the base of the apartment building.
Go save the deacon? Cao Qianxiu and the members of Team 6 looked at one another in dismay, suspecting their ears were playing tricks on them.
Why was a Level 2 Scout meddling here? In a clash at the Saint stage, any casual skill could instantly obliterate an Extraordinaire.
"Is this guy just trying to show off in front of everyone? Foolish. Deacon Yellow Wind Monster couldn't even breach the barrier. What good will he do besides humiliating himself even more?" Sacred Hand of Medicine's impression of this new member plummeted.
The others remained silent, but their expressions and thoughts mirrored his.
Only Cao Qianxiu furrowed her brow without a word, inexplicably recalling what the young lodger had said back in the dessert shop.
*How did he know the deacon was in danger?* A sudden surge of anticipation rose in her heart.
By now, Zhang Yuanqing had already zipped past the members of the Anti-Black-and-White Alliance. Under their bewildered and stunned gazes, he sprinted straight up the vertical wall at a ninety-degree angle.
Picking up momentum from outdoor air conditioning units and window ledges, he vaulted upward floor after floor with nimble, flowing grace.
"Whoa, what is he doing? Performing parkour?"
"Who is this guy? Where did he come from? I've never seen him before."
"Is he a friend of that member? Non-essential personnel must clear the area immediately! We won't be held responsible for casualties! Damn it, he's getting closer to the battlefield with that ragged sword of his!"
The Spirit Realm walkers below began clamoring, finding an outlet to vent the disappointment bottled up in their chests.
Meanwhile, Zhang Yuanqing had already reached the sixth floor in a half-scramble, half-run. Stamping hard on an air conditioning unit, he launched himself into the air, cleared the seventh floor, and hung suspended outside the eighth-floor window crackling with arcs of lightning.
Hovering in midair, he arched his body, gathered force, and suddenly slashed with his bronze sword.
A brilliant arc of sword qi burst from the blade and struck the membrane shrouding the bedroom. With a soft *poof*, that seemingly impenetrable sealing barrier collapsed under everyone's astonished eyes.
As gravity pulled him down, Zhang Yuanqing seized an outdoor air conditioner, exerted a burst of strength, crashed through the glass, and leaped into the bedroom.
Below the apartment building, silence fell.
Everyone's eyes went wide as saucers, including the stern Constant Self-Improvement and the righteous Judge Cao.
A barrier that even a Gale Walker couldn't shatter had been sliced open so effortlessly with a single strike from an unfamiliar Spirit Realm walker.
Who was he?
This reversal caught the members of the Anti-Black-and-White Alliance completely off guard, but the surge of pleasant surprise and excitement that followed quickly drowned out their bewilderment and confusion.
A thunderous cheer erupted. The gang members' hearts, hanging by a thread, finally settled back into place.
Without the barrier's restriction, Deacon Wings of the Wind God could escape the crisis.
"How... how did he do that? He's only a Level 2 Scout..." Snow White covered her small mouth, both thrilled and ecstatic.
Cao Qianxiu took a deep breath and looked at her as if looking at a fool. "If you still believe he's a Level 2 Scout at a time like this, that's an issue with your IQ."
The other members of Team 6 nodded silently in agreement.
Inside the chaotic bedroom strewn with furniture splinters and scattered papers, Zhang Yuanqing surveyed the scene with cold detachment. He saw a youth leaning against the wall, clutching a lightning whip, clad in a nano combat suit, and sporting a head of handsome curly hair.
This exceptionally striking young man was already drifting in and out of consciousness from severe blood loss. A fountain of blood poured from his chest, and gory wounds covered his abdomen, neck, thighs, and limbs.
A frail wind wall hovered before him, having shielded him from countless bullet and dagger attacks.
On the other side of the bedroom stood a bald middle-aged man holding a glass dome, draped in rattan armor, and gripping a handgun.
Beside him floated a dagger.
That spiritual body had nowhere to hide before Zhang Yuanqing's eyes. It was a sullen-faced middle-aged man with East Asian features characteristic of northern China.
*One possessed, one astral-projected. I could swallow both in a single bite...* Seeing Wings of the Wind God about to lash out at him with the lightning whip, Zhang Yuanqing immediately said, "I'm a Swordsman newly recruited by the Anti-Black-and-White Alliance. I'm here to save you."
The dazed deacon's whip-wielding hand froze, and a spark of light ignited in his dimming eyes.
Zhang Yuanqing retrieved a vial of life fluid and tossed it over, not forgetting to urge, "Inject half a vial. No more."
*Any more and my heart will ache.*
Once Wings of the Wind God caught it, Zhang Yuanqing flicked his wrist and unleashed a slash of sword qi toward the bald man.
He had borrowed this item beforehand from Fu Qingyang's guild warehouse. Its sole function was to release sword qi comparable to a Level 5 Swordsman's. For an actual Level 5 Swordsman, such an item was practically useless, but it was ideal for roleplaying one.
*Slash!*
The sword qi swept across the bald man's neck. It was briefly checked by the green light bolstered by the rattan vines, but in the next second, the green glow shattered, and his head rolled away. The sharp momentum of the sword qi carried on undiminished, gouging a deep scar into the wall behind him.
A fountain of blood erupted from the hollow neck, splashing onto the ceiling.
The headless corpse toppled backward. Two flashes of starlight flared and then vanished.
The two Starlords retreated. They made no further attempt to hunt Wings of the Wind God, perhaps unwilling to linger after completing their objective, or perhaps wary of a Saint-stage Swordsman. After all, a Swordsman's Fiend Queller could counter evil spirits and spiritual bodies.
Wings of the Wind God panicked. Tossing the remaining half-vial of golden liquid back to Zhang Yuanqing, he clutched his still-mending chest, vaulted onto the windowsill, and shouted, "Don't let them get away! Chase them down!"
"Chase what?" Zhang Yuanqing asked flatly. "Can you see spiritual bodies? Or can you see through Night Walk? Deacon Wings of the Wind God, you're fortunate just to be alive. If I were you, I'd stay put and recuperate. Continuing to fight is a death wish."
Leaning against the wall, Wings of the Wind God opened his mouth in reluctance, but ultimately slid down along the wall and slumped into a seated position in defeat.
Two bursts of starlight flickered continuously through the residential buildings, quickly leaving Chinatown behind.
The night in New York was dazzling and bright, alive with brilliant neon lights and endless streams of traffic. Two spiritual bodies drifted in low-altitude flight, moving farther and farther away from Chinatown.
Right then, a wild wind whipped up ahead, and a silhouette swept out from the darkness.
It was an ordinary-looking youth in a cheap T-shirt and jeans, wearing a pair of azure fingerless gloves.
*A Wind Mage? A patrol officer from Heaven's Punishment?*
The two Starlords exchanged a glance and silently veered around the approaching Wind Mage, intending to slip away unnoticed.
Suddenly, the ordinary-looking youth turned his head and stared straight at the two Starlords. Dark, viscous energy welled up in his eye sockets as he chuckled. "Gentlemen, I've been waiting for you."
*A Night Walker of the same class? No, this aura... he's a Starlord!* The two Starlords took a sharp breath in shock. Before a fellow Starlord, being in their spiritual bodies was tantamount to severing their own arms. Aside from fleeing, there was no other option.
They immediately moved to activate Star Escape.
Before the starlight could rise, the ordinary-looking youth threw his head back and let out a piercing screech.
Mental Strike.
The two Starlords' consciousnesses exploded with a deafening boom, shattering into millions of fragments as they blacked out.
Zhang Yuanqing took a gentle breath, and the two senseless spiritual bodies streamed into his mouth like blue smoke.
A chaotic barrage of fragmented memories surged forward, flashing past like a revolving lantern.
He saw a training ground established deep within a tropical rainforest, and a crowd of children being forced through brutal training day after day by armed mercenaries.
He saw two children distinguish themselves and successfully obtain Night Walker character cards.
He saw them carry out assassination missions one after another under the organization's deployment.
These memories were piecemeal and disordered, resembling yellowed photographs documenting the lives of the two Starlords.
As the images shifted, the two Starlords returned to the rainforest training camp and met the instructor who seemed never to age.
"The key the organization has sought for a century finally has a lead. The target is in New York's Chinatown. No physical description, no identity information. After you arrive in Chinatown, someone will make contact with you."
"Remember the target's characteristics: forty to forty-five years old, single-parent household, mother had ties to gangs or once worked a disreputable job, then suddenly struck it rich..."
"Once you locate the target, kill him immediately and perform spirit questioning. Take no extraneous actions. After spirit questioning, you will naturally know what the organization seeks."
The scene shifted once more. This time, Zhang Yuanqing saw a burly man with thick, blade-like eyebrows and a square jaw, his demeanor brimming with the overbearing swagger of an outlaw.
Clutching a fan-shaped bronze piece in his hand, the burly man spoke in a resonant, deep tone:
"Before my old man drew his last breath, he passed this thing down to me, his illegitimate son. Now, I'm passing it down to my own illegitimate son. Little whelp, you're my flesh and blood, so you will keep it.
"Guard it with your life. Understand?"
"Dad, what is this?" The boy's voice was tender and brimming with curiosity.
"This is a relic of the Pope, something our family has safeguarded for generations. But keep three rules in mind: First, never give it to foreign devils. Second, never give it to a good-for-nothing. Third, never give it to an evil person."
"I will protect it well."
The scene shifted once again, and Zhang Yuanqing saw the bald middle-aged man—though back then, he was not yet bald. He was sitting in an office opposite a professional in a suit and tie.
A name badge hung on the office worker's chest: *Will George, Account Manager, Meisheng Bank.*
"Mr. Zhang, your safe deposit box number is 0042. Please enter your password and fingerprint. Afterward, I will take you to register your iris scan."
The vision ended there.
Zhang Yuanqing rubbed the space between his brows, calming the mental disorientation and mild corruption brought on by devouring two Starlords.
*My lunar energy surged by a noticeable notch. Tsk, devouring spiritual bodies of the same level truly is the best way to elevate lunar energy.*
*Which faction do those two Starlords belong to? I feel like I've seen a similar training camp before... Uh, the training camps Dark Night Rose uses to cultivate Spirit Realm walkers? Then those two Starlords were informants for Dark Night Rose.*
*The Pope's relic... To make two Starlords travel thousands of miles to New York to search for it, it must be related to... that Holy See from over a century ago. But why would a Pope's relic be entrusted to a family of Chinese descent for safekeeping?*
*Hiss, I just wanted to do a mission and rack up some points. How did I stumble into something like this?*
Zhang Yuanqing pondered for a moment and came up with a plan. *I'll have my real body notify that goofy president. He might know something about this Pope's relic. Hmm, joining the Anti-Black-and-White Alliance has already proven its worth—I can look into it through this organization as well.*
He realized that this Pope's relic was likely anything but ordinary.
Chapter 666