If Deacon Pang was indeed a member of Dark Night Rose, killing him and questioning his spirit would yield a wealth of information, significantly speeding up the hunt for Hei Wuchang. A surge of joy welled in Zhang Yuanqing's heart. With Hei Wuchang remaining elusive for so long, he was even more anxious than Fu Qingyang.
“But why would he want to kill me? At a critical juncture like this, killing me will only cause unnecessary complications.” Zhang Yuanqing could not make sense of it.
“He has his own reasons for wanting you dead. Once I kill him, we will know through spirit questioning.” Fu Qingyang opened the wine cabinet, retrieved a bottle of red wine and two stem glasses, and asked, “Care for a glass?”
*Now I know where Li Dongze picked up that habit...* Zhang Yuanqing shook his head and said, “Do you have Coke?”
Fu Qingyang put one of the glasses back and said calmly, “Then you'll have to wait until this is over and buy it yourself.”
He sipped the tart red wine with an easy, relaxed expression—not looking at all like someone on his way to murder, but rather like someone heading to a private club.
Perhaps only an old-money family of generational wealth could nurture such effortless composure. Zhang Yuanqing certainly couldn't manage that; his mind was entirely occupied with how to take Deacon Pang down, how much Deacon Pang knew about Dark Night Rose, how great the risk would be if the operation failed, and so on.
Neither spoke for the rest of the drive. Fu Qingyang held his wineglass, gazing out at the night scenery and taking an occasional sip.
Zhang Yuanqing reclined his seat back and lay flat with his eyes closed, taking a nap to restore his energy and focus.
About twenty minutes later, Fu Qingyang set his glass down. Almost simultaneously, the business van began to slow.
Zhang Yuanqing instantly opened his eyes, sat up, and looked out the window. The van was parked outside a high-end residential complex. The architecture was exceptionally luxurious and stylish, with orderly rows of buildings faced in black brick.
Facing the entrance was a plaza featuring a fountain pool at its center; at first glance, one might easily mistake it for a luxury hotel.
*Seriously wealthy... The property values here must be at least a hundred and fifty thousand per square meter,* Zhang Yuanqing thought wistfully.
“Centurion, won't walking straight in like this alert the enemy? Shouldn't we coordinate and deploy beforehand?” Zhang Yuanqing offered his thoughts.
Fu Qingyang replied impassively, “Pang Wudi dispatched an evil spirit to kill you, so he must be waiting at home for news right now. Until the spirit returns, waiting patiently is his safest option. Our late-night visit is meant to catch him completely off guard. The more preparations we make, the more likely he is to notice us.”
Though his tone was cool, the young scion was explaining things quite patiently to his trusted subordinate. He then shifted the topic: “However, the necessary reconnaissance still needs to be done, just in case there are members of Dark Night Rose lurking nearby to disrupt our plan.”
*How will he scout?* Zhang Yuanqing wondered.
Fu Qingyang raised his right hand, pressing two fingers together like a sword against the center of his brow.
The next moment, Zhang Yuanqing faintly saw a pale-white ripple emanate from Fu Qingyang's forehead, spreading into the distance like a wave across water. The further outward it expanded, the fainter the white light became, until it was entirely undetectable.
After a dozen seconds, Fu Qingyang opened his eyes. “No ambush nearby.”
Seeing his subordinate dumbfounded, Fu Qingyang gave a faint smile. “No need to look so surprised. This is what it means to be a Scout!”
And what Zhang Yuanqing thought was: *Now that's a true vision ward. Compared to him, Li Dongze is just a fake ward.*
With that said, Fu Qingyang opened the car door and walked over to the guard booth at the complex gate. Looking calmly at the security guard, he said, “Open the gate.”
In a complex like this packed with wealthy elites, entering and leaving required an access card.
The guard looked in astonishment at the strikingly elegant young man, dressed in an impeccably tailored white suit with a neat short ponytail, handsome to an intimidating degree.
His gaze was deep and serene; when he looked at you, it felt like an aloof monarch, exuding an effortless noble grace.
The guard asked respectfully, “Sir, which unit are you from?”
Fu Qingyang said calmly, “Open the gate. Don't waste my time.”
Inexplicably, an overwhelming sense of awe and submission welled in the guard's chest. Trembling with apprehension, he released the gate lock.
Fu Qingyang nodded slightly and walked through the iron gate into the residential complex.
Seeing this, Zhang Yuanqing hurried to follow, only to be shouted at by the guard: “Hold on! Which unit are you with?”
Zhang Yuanqing recalled the scene just now, sank his expression into a stern frown, kept his gaze deep and calm, and mimicked Fu Qingyang's regal, sovereign aura, saying coolly, “Don't waste my time.”
The guard looked him up and down and waved his hand impatiently. “Shoo, shoo! Get lost.”
“...” A flicker of embarrassment crossed Zhang Yuanqing's face. He had no choice but to cast Charm Art to bewilder the old man before slipping quietly into the complex.
*Well, it's not that my presence is weaker than Fu Qingyang's; it's just that different professions have different abilities. He couldn't charm an old man like I did...* he consoled himself silently.
Catching up to Fu Qingyang with brisk steps, Zhang Yuanqing muttered in a low voice, “Centurion, why didn't we scale the wall? Going through the front gate leaves traces.”
The figure in the white suit strode forward and said calmly, “Don't forget who we are. We are the authorities.”
*Fine. If it were Li Dongze, he'd definitely say: Scaling the wall isn't elegant!* Zhang Yuanqing grumbled inwardly.
West residential tower, 21st floor, full-floor apartment.
In the living room, Pang Wudi, with his square jaw and dressed in a judo uniform, sat solemnly and silently at the bar counter, holding a glass tumbler in his palm.
On the marble counter before him rested a bottle of whiskey and a battered old-fashioned cell phone.
Pang Wudi was waiting for the evil spirit inside the phone to return.
It was currently two in the morning, and the evil spirit had not yet returned, which meant the target had not been eliminated.
Yet Pang Wudi was not worried. He did not believe Yuanshi Tianzun could evade the evil spirit's pursuit. Night Wanderers possessed no abilities within the dream domain; once drawn into a dream, he was doomed.
After obtaining this item, Pang Wudi had used it to kill several enemies whom it was inconvenient for him to strike down personally, and he had never failed.
This item was a supreme assassination tool, killing without a trace, leaving behind not the slightest clue. Even someone as sharp as a Scout could never uncover anything.
Its only flaw was that it had virtually no effect against Saint-stage enemies, and the price of using it was that after ten uses, the evil spirit would hunt its owner in dreams.
Of course, for Pang Wudi, who was already at the Saint stage, that would at most pose a minor, harmless nuisance.
*Once Yuanshi Tianzun dies, Fu Qingyang will certainly be furious, but it will be hard for him to suspect me. Still, that man is sharp; I need to be careful over the next three days...*
Pang Wudi drained the liquor in his glass. Just then, an image flashed through his mind:
Fu Qingyang in his white suit, leading a handsome young man, arriving outside the security door.
This image had been sent back by the potted plants he kept outside his entrance. A Saint-stage Wood Demon could communicate with plants over a short range, turning them into his eyes.
*Yuanshi Tianzun isn't dead? They tracked me down? How is that possible?!*
Pang Wudi's pupils contracted slightly as shock and bewildered confusion surged through him. He immediately made a decision: flee.
He had to get out first, pass word of the assassination's failure to his contact, Tiandao Bugong, and report it to his superiors, then wait for orders and adapt as circumstances developed.
In any case, he couldn't stay here right now. At the very least, he needed to dispose of the assassination tool.
Having made up his mind, Pang Wudi sprinted toward the balcony, intending to leap out the window.
*Drip, drop...*
The lock of the security door melted into molten iron, dripping to the floor.
The door swung open, and Fu Qingyang, wearing dark-red gloves, stepped inside.
“Don't bother running. You won't get away,” Fu Qingyang said calmly, looking at the figure rushing for the balcony.
Without looking back, Pang Wudi flung out a handful of spores. The spores swelled explosively in the wind, transforming into small octopus-like plants with writhing tentacles that descended upon Fu Qingyang and Zhang Yuanqing.
Zhang Yuanqing dove to the side, dodging the incoming octopus plants.
He hadn't expected them to start fighting instantly, without even exchanging a single word of banter.
Fu Qingyang didn't retreat. Advancing through the storm of flora, he seemed to have calculated the movement trajectories of the octopus plants beforehand. Looking as though he were merely taking a leisurely stroll, he neatly slipped past every descending tendril.
At the same time, Fu Qingyang flipped his right hand, revealing a small, dark-green command flag, and flicked it forward.
*Thud!*
The command flag drove into the balcony tiles. A hazy azure light screen rose up, forming a cage that trapped Pang Wudi on the balcony.
“Hmph!” Pang Wudi's body swelled abruptly like an inflated balloon, transforming into a three-meter-tall giant whose muscles bulged as hard and corded as vines.
He threw a heavy punch at the light screen, shattering it into azure fragments that swept through the living room.
By that time, Fu Qingyang had already reached the balcony threshold, retrieving the patina-encrusted Eight Directions Bronze Sword from his inventory.
A flicker of dread crossed Pang Wudi's eyes. He opened his mouth and spat out a stream of grayish mist.
Floating within the mist were microscopic spores invisible to the naked eye. Highly predatory, the moment they contacted a living organism, they would proliferate wildly until draining every drop of its vitality.
As the heavy fog engulfed the space, even a Scout's prediction could not dodge such an attack.
Yet Fu Qingyang didn't give an inch. In his left hand, he gripped a small white flag embroidered with a majestic, awe-inspiring white tiger.
“Roar!”
An illusory tiger's roar reverberated through the apartment, blasting the mist apart.
Fu Qingyang took a step forward, raising the Eight Directions Bronze Sword high.
Pang Wudi's massive body suddenly began to tremble. His limbs seemed to lose coordination—his left foot tried to dodge left, his right foot wanted to flee right, and his upper body had ideas of its own...
In the end, all he could do was summon a suit of vine armor, encasing his three-meter-tall form.
Fu Qingyang slashed down.
The next instant, the vine armor was cleaved open and flesh severed. The three-meter-tall giant was cut clean in half. Internal organs spilled out with a wet crash, and crimson blood spread across the balcony tiles.
Witnessing this from behind, Zhang Yuanqing was both shocked and delighted, a flurry of thoughts racing through his mind:
*Dead? A Saint died just like that...*
*Why didn't he dodge? That slash looked completely plain—was it that hard to avoid?*
Fu Qingyang recalled his bronze sword and command flag, then turned his gaze back coolly. “Come question his spirit!”
“R-right away...” Zhang Yuanqing reined in his scattered thoughts and hurried forward.
Chapter 98