As a peak Dominator, how could he not possess rule-based items?
The reason he hadn't used one until now was that none of the orthodox Dominators present were ordinary figures. There were young wielders of power, heirs to major conglomerates, and tycoons overseeing branch divisions.
People like this inevitably possessed trump cards kept close at hand. The Spirit Realm was hardly lacking in terrifying items that took unorthodox paths to slay foes beyond their user's rank.
At their level, while sheer strength was undeniable, caution was an essential virtue. Even a lion exerted its full might when hunting a hare, let alone when dealing with a pack of exceptionally gifted youths.
Testing each other, gradually escalating the intensity of battle until one side exhausted their hidden reserves and was thoroughly laid bare, and only then concentrating forces for a decisive kill—this was the true art of team combat.
Though an eighth-level Dominator had been sacrificed in the process, as long as they could devour these youths, the price was well worth paying.
Fu Qingyang's limit was slaying a Dominator of his own level. The Arbiter of Fate's means lay in that bronze pot. Winnie's trump card was a high-grade Dominator item, along with continuous, explosive bursts of offensive power.
Chris had not revealed her hidden card. Driven to such a corner, she couldn't possibly have held back intentionally, which meant her card required a specific environment to unleash, such as the ocean.
Demon Eye Heavenly King's core technique was the Eye of Bewitchment.
Jumang was the most astonishing: he wielded multiple Dominator-grade items, possessing an offensive power no weaker than a true Dominator, but that was the extent of it.
As for Panxi Edison, a peak Dominator, no one would underestimate him. Aside from this vice president of the Merchant Guild, everyone else's hidden depths had been drawn out, and none posed a threat to a peak Dominator.
Cowboy Locke believed it was time to reel in the net.
*The Palace Master's strongest asset is the Demon Refining Pot, which increases the team's margin for error, but cannot decide the battle... We can't count on Winnie or Chris. Even if Chris has a trump card, it can't turn the tide. Boss and Demon Eye are already operating at peak output and can't push any further. Right now, the only one we can rely on is Vice President Panxi, but at best, he can only go fifty-fifty against a single peak Dominator...*
As Zhang Yuanqing pondered, he observed his companions' expressions. Everyone's face was heavy and grave; none showed the relaxed confidence of having victory firmly in hand.
He had never underestimated the evil faction. With two peak Dominators present and multiple Level 8 Dominators providing support, among these enemies there were bound to be high-grade items—perhaps even Dominator-level rule-based items.
If his side had enough trump cards, they might put up a desperate stand, barely holding on while picking off enemy numbers to alleviate pressure, and wait for the President to rescue them.
That was their only way out.
Now, they could only pray that the enemy's items did not exceed their team's tolerance threshold.
Stephen Simpson, his facial features stern and unyielding, looked toward Locke in his cowboy garb and said slowly, "I want that bronze pot and the cloak. The rest is yours!"
He meant that the Biological Alchemy Society would step up to finish off the orthodox Dominators, and in return, he would take the lion's share of the spoils.
As a peak Dominator, Lieutenant Stephen had a sharp, discerning eye. He could tell that among the items on the orthodox side, the cloak and the bronze pot were of the highest level and quality.
Cowboy Locke glanced at the deceased "Hell Wyrm" and nodded. "Agreed!"
The Biological Alchemy Society had lost a Level 8 Dominator, so compensation was only fair. Besides, with the Enlightened volunteering to take the fight, Locke was more than happy to sit back and relax.
With a cold expression, Stephen Simpson produced a crystal ball the size of a soccer ball. Within the crystal ball, an animated scene unfolded:
A colossal figure strode between heaven and earth, its body boundlessly tall. Mountains did not even reach its knees, and lakes merely washed over the tops of its feet. It bore a humanoid shape, but its body was covered with the heads of beasts—cattle, sheep, swine, dogs, tigers, leopards, jackals, and wolves. Only the head upon its neck was human.
Its hair was made of thick, writhing pythons, spitting deep-purple toxic fumes that roiled across the heavens, condensing into dense clouds that blotted out the sun.
Pus oozed across its entire frame. Wherever that pus flowed into a lake, the waters were corrupted; wherever it seeped into the earth, barren wastelands stretched for a thousand miles.
Gales swirled around it, sweeping up crops and buildings, leaving utter devastation in its wake.
Following in its footsteps were tens of thousands of aberrant monsters.
As the animated vision shifted, the sky-propping monster's body suddenly fractured, dividing into ten monsters of varied forms and appearances.
Some resembled a woman with a horny, keratinous mask over her face; some bore goat horns and hooves, wreathed in ghostly blue flames; some took the form of a golden lion whose body seemed cast from solid gold; some were dark wyrms with tattered, perforated leathery wings; some were three-headed hounds...
Stephen Simpson swept a cold gaze across the evil faction's Dominators. "Fall back to the perimeter."
The three Dominators of Chaos, two Overlookers, and two Lightning Mages all retreated to the edge of the spectator stands. One more step back, and they would plummet from the arena, a hundred meters above the ground outside.
Stephen Simpson gently tossed the crystal ball toward the arena.
The crystal ball expanded in midair, swallowing the entire arena within itself. The next second, ten phantoms of the Demon God's spawn descended upon the grounds, stationing themselves in the cardinal directions to encircle and trap the orthodox Dominators in the center.
[Ding! You have entered the "Smoker's" Trial Ground. Please defeat the ten demons to clear the trial.]
[Remark: During the trial, you may not return to reality, nor may you teleport out of the arena!]
The Spirit Realm notification chimed in Zhang Yuanqing's ears.
*The Smoker's Trial?* What caught Zhang Yuanqing's attention first was the name "the Smoker," because he had heard the exact same title in the Thriller Cruise instance.
In the Thriller Cruise instance, he had obtained a rule-based consumable: *Whispers of the Smoker*!
That consumable could contaminate all living beings within a fifty-meter radius, plunging them into madness, with the explicit remark: *Bear in mind: every single living being!*
Zhang Yuanqing had never dared to use it, not wishing to corrupt himself and his allies.
*The Smoker likely refers to the demon seed. Now Lieutenant Stephen has brought out a high-level rule-based item that also bears the Smoker's name... Is the deity of the Lethal Alchemist class called the Smoker?*
Immediately after, another worry crossed Zhang Yuanqing's mind. The remark contained two absolute prohibitions: "may not." Generally speaking, such absolute descriptions signified rule-based power.
He didn't know whether the President could break through the lockdown of a rule-based item. If he couldn't, they were in dire straits.
As his thoughts raced, he saw the ten phantoms of the deity's spawn plunge into Lieutenant Stephen's body one after another.
A look of agony crossed the peak Dominator's stern face. The flesh beneath his skin squirmed violently, and his body swelled rapidly like an overinflated ball.
Two meters, three meters, five meters, ten meters... Ferocious hound heads sprouted from both of his shoulders; his hair writhed and twisted into slender black snakes; a keratinous mask covered his face; and lion and boar heads pushed out from his chest.
Black wings unfolded behind his back, cyan scales bulged across his arms, and sludge-like pus oozed from his pores... His appearance bore an uncanny resemblance to "the Smoker" inside the crystal ball, though on a far diminished scale.
The slender black snakes spewed streams of deep-purple toxic fumes that blanketed the sky above the arena. Foul-smelling pus, like magma erupting from a volcano, surged outward from him across the hard-packed ground.
Zhang Yuanqing looked up at the ten-meter-tall aberrant monster. A tidal wave of fear welled within him, sending shudders through his entire body. This was the absolute suppression of a high-ranked entity over a lower-ranked one.
Demon Eye Heavenly King clicked his tongue. "I sense the aura of a demigod on him. Well, considerably weaker than the Fear Heavenly King, though."
*A demigod's aura...* Zhang Yuanqing was startled. Had Lieutenant Stephen's transformation into the Smoker touched the threshold of a demigod?
Or rather, did he now possess a trace of demigod traits?
At that moment, Panxi Edison's figure blurred for an instant before being bounced back out. He inhaled sharply. "I can't get out..."
Zhang Yuanqing murmured, "Vice President, were you trying to flee just now?"
Panxi Edison glanced back at him. "To use your Chinese sayings: 'Whoever understands the times is a wise man,' and 'Of the thirty-six stratagems, fleeing is the best.'"
"Well, you can't run now." Zhang Yuanqing wore an expression of deep gratification. "Hurry and bring out whatever trump cards you have, or we'll all die together."
He hoped this peak Dominator could also pull out a rule-based item, clash toe-to-toe with Lieutenant Stephen, and resolve the crisis.
"I won't die. I can shift my body into an ethereal state and maintain it for a very long time," Panxi Edison retorted, then added, "The Enlightened's aura has reached the demigod stage. Although he doesn't possess the full combat strength of a demigod, having touched that level means he is beyond my ability to fight."
Zhang Yuanqing's heart sank. Suddenly, a burning pain shot through the soles of his feet. Looking down, he realized the foul-smelling pus had crept to their feet unnoticed. His shoes and pant legs had been dissolved away, and the pus was now eating into his feet.
At the same time, the deep-purple toxic clouds rolled forward relentlessly, poised to crush everyone beneath them.
Whether it was the pus corroding his flesh and allowing viruses to invade his body, or the stench of the toxic clouds taking effect, Zhang Yuanqing felt his heart palpitate wildly. His lungs, heart, and kidneys began to fail.
Red, swollen blisters erupted on his skin, rapidly oozing pus and festering. An unbearable, agonizing itch racked his entire body.
Fu Qingyang and the others displayed the same symptoms of poisoning. Swollen red blisters sprang up across the fair, tender cheeks of Winnie and Chris, instantly disfiguring their jade-like faces into grotesque, itching, painful messes.
The toxic clouds had not even fully engulfed them yet, and their bodies were already close to breaking down. Once engulfed, they would lose all combat capability in an instant.
Zhang Yuanqing immediately drew the Golden Crow Seal. Enduring the burning heat of solar divine power, he activated its purification ability.
Just then, the billows of toxic fumes descended, swallowing the group.
Rays of golden light pierced the toxic cloud, causing the dense, viscous purple haze to hiss and sizzle as it instantly thinned somewhat.
However, the Smoker's toxic fumes were simply too powerful; even the solar divine power could not completely purify or disperse them.
The Palace Master of Halting Slaughter stroked the bronze pot, making its spout gush with radiant, golden liquid that washed over her teammates' bodies.
Although the Source Fluid of Life had no detoxifying properties, it healed their festering wounds and replenished vitality to their failing organs, allowing them to endure within the toxic haze.
Seemingly sensing that the Golden Crow Seal posed a major threat to it, the hideous, terrifying aberrant monster in the distance let out a deep, resounding, and flawlessly enunciated call:
"Jumang—"
Zhang Yuanqing remained completely unaffected, pushing the Golden Crow Seal with all his might so that the golden light shone steadily.
The distant call abruptly stalled.
*He isn't Jumang?* Winnie froze for a moment, then realized the truth.
Even with a Day Wanderer item in hand, with Jumang's level, he could never be totally immune to the Smoker's call. The only explanation was that Jumang's true Spirit Realm ID was something else entirely.
That was why he was completely untouched by the call!
Winnie Berrent truly could not fathom who this young man was—someone who had joined the relief team under the guise of "Jumang" and wrought havoc across New York County.
Did the Five Elements Alliance possess such a formidable young prodigy?
If she had to name one, it would probably be Yuanshi Tianzun, who had returned to the Spirit Realm two months ago.
Yet that unruly genius had returned to the Spirit Realm right before the eyes of the Five Elements Alliance's top brass, and Heaven's Punishment headquarters had already confirmed it. Such an event could not possibly have been faked.
Seeing that calling Jumang had no effect, "the Smoker" immediately switched targets: "Winnie Berrent!"
Winnie shuddered. The flesh beneath her skin squirmed uncontrollably, sprouting greenish-black scales. Her pupils expanded into total blackness, swallowing the whites of her eyes, and bony spider legs pushed out from her waist.
She was aberrating.
A chill gripped Zhang Yuanqing's heart. He swiftly whipped out the Gale Gloves, summoning a fierce tempest to blow back the surrounding toxic smoke, allowing the clear, pristine golden light to shine unimpeded upon Winnie.
Only then did the aberration slow down.
"Winnie Berrent—"
The Smoker's call rang out once more.
Winnie, who had just halted her aberration, convulsed violently. Black fuzz sprouted from her fair skin, and her abdomen swelled, morphing into a plump spider abdomen.
Panxi Edison sighed. "We can't let him keep shouting."
Each name called was another person aberrated.
Once fully aberrated, the process was irreversible; the victim would turn into a low-intelligence, bloodthirsty monster—practically dead.
Panxi Edison, his face tight with heartache over his treasures, retrieved seven materials and items, including a bright yellow amber, scarlet sand, and a crystal crackling with arcs of electricity.
Grabbing the amber, he hurled it toward the Smoker: "Trade!"
Trade failed.
Grabbing a handful of scarlet sand, he hurled it toward the Smoker: "Trade!"
Trade failed.
Grabbing the crystal, he hurled it toward the Smoker: "Trade!"
The calling abruptly ceased. The Smoker's lips moved, but no sound came out.
With tears glistening in the corners of his eyes, Panxi Edison gave a strained smile. "Not bad luck. Succeeded on the third try."
Next, he produced a postage stamp printed in deep-blue ink with exquisite patterns, and ground his teeth. "Exchange!"
The remaining four materials and items vanished, and the stamp burned to ashes in bright flame.
From the void, a brass-colored light descended upon Panxi Edison. A gale howled around him, coalescing into a cloak behind his back.
A thick pillar of lightning struck down, etching a lightning mark between his eyebrows.
In that instant, the terrifying aura of a high-ranked powerhouse erupted from Panxi Edison. His habitually smiling expression turned solemn and imposing.
In the depths of his eyes flashed a hint of sorrow:
"I traded a third of my fortune for ten minutes of peak Dominator-level power from three classes. I just hope the President reimburses me."
He was a peak Dominator, and his limit was exchanging for power of the same rank.
If he wanted to exchange for demigod-level power, he would have had to offer corresponding materials and items—and pay with his life.
Chapter 764