Because the three ritual patterns were nested within one another rather than kept separate this time, the process was considerably more complex. Even with Chen Chuan's swift hands, it was around noon of the next day before he finally finished drawing them all out.
To concentrate wholeheartedly for an entire day, maintaining unwavering focus and steady precision over so many hours without making the slightest mistake, was something ordinary people simply could not endure.
Whoever had set up the previous esoteric ritual had likely not been working alone, but taking turns with another person or several others.
Fortunately, Chen Chuan was a fighter. Provided he was properly prepared, he could sustain combat for just as long, so this task alone was hardly an ordeal for him.
Once the setup was virtually complete, he stood up and surveyed his work. Across an area roughly six meters in diameter spread an intricate, bizarre web of markings. Lines deep as blood-red and dark as pitch ink filled the space, binding all three patterns together.
An uninitiated person casting a single glance at it might feel dizzy and disoriented; staring at it for any length of time, one would almost see eyes opening and shutting on their own within the design.
He checked it once more. Confirming there were no flaws, he stepped out along the path he had left open.
Once outside, he glanced at his watch. It was exactly one in the afternoon—a bit earlier than he had estimated, as he had originally thought it might take until later in the afternoon.
The exact time the original esoteric ritual had been conducted was impossible to verify now, but esoteric rituals were generally activated within the few hours around midnight, so he decided to wait until then.
With plenty of time remaining, he didn't want to waste it. Taking out and swallowing the medicine he carried with him, he began practicing his saber techniques.
On the surface, his moves still appeared to be the same few forms, looking no different from before. Yet the internal shifts were entirely transformed. For what appeared to be the identical stroke, he could unleash completely contradictory variations of jin. Through the relentless, high-intensity crucible of combat, the nuances of his saberplay had grown vastly more subtle and ingenious.
His previous battle with Youxing had truly taught him just how troublesome a technique-focused master at this level could be.
That man's jin was ever-shifting—appearing hard while actually soft, looking fierce while packing lethal cunning. Chen Chuan had barely found room to calmly arrange any setup or tactical counterattack, forced instead to adapt on the fly.
It was fortunate that his earlier attack-and-defense training had laid a solid foundation, and that his mutated tissue could alternate in absorbing blows. Coupled with the damage to the other man's mutated tissue, that had allowed him to seize an opening to counterattack and kill him. Otherwise, the fight would have dragged on.
A battle like that had proven immensely beneficial to his growth. Many areas he hadn't fully grasped before suddenly made profound sense, and over the past few days, Instructor Zheng had likewise noted how much he had improved.
Yet this was still not his limit. Because he was essentially making up for missed groundwork in technique from scratch, he had plenty of room left to grow. Once his progress plateaued, he could go take the skill assessment.
The afternoon slipped away in the blink of an eye. As dusk deepened, he planted the Xuejun Saber into the ground, sat down on the mat he had brought with him, took out the civet stone carving, held it in his hands, and used the stimulation from this urban legend to practice his breathing technique.
He sat like that for several more hours until the clock neared ten at night. Moonlight drifted in and out behind the clouds, and only the mournful whistling of the wind stirred among the surrounding crumbling ruins.
Rising to his feet, he followed the clear path he had left behind to the center of the ritual patterns, bent down, and set the stone plaque on the ground beneath him.
He then picked up his brush and added a final stroke to the innermost ritual pattern. This step temporarily loosened the restraint on the urban legend.
The moment the stroke was completed, he glimpsed a faint blur of incorporeality suddenly wash over his Second Self. Yet no shrieks broke out around him; the air remained eerily silent.
He could sense that the urban legend was lurking right behind him. Having suffered at his hands last time, it seemed to realize he was not to be trifled with, so it chose not to charge straight at him.
The urban legend appeared to possess some degree of intellect—yet perhaps it was precisely for that reason that it could be exploited.
Chen Chuan paid it no heed. Straightening up, he walked toward the second ritual pattern in the outer ring as though completely defenseless. Right at that moment, violent signs of incorporeality erupted across his Second Self, so intense that for an instant, the Second Self seemed to have vanished entirely.
This undeniably meant the urban legend had attacked him, yet he acted as though oblivious, continuing forward until he reached the outermost covenant ritual. Raising his brush, he drew in the final stroke.
Then he cast the brush aside and looked toward the center of the ritual.
Right where he had previously stood, illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the clouds, the luminescent white phantom of a civet emerged. Its form filled the entire central circle of the ritual, its cat-like eyes—gleaming as though spun from pure light—staring fixatedly at him.
Chen Chuan stared back at it calmly.
It now depended on whether the urban legend was willing to accept. If it refused, he would continue adding replenished ritual patterns to the periphery and keep wearing it down. That might take a long time, but he was confident it would yield in the end.
Fortunately, that proved unnecessary. Seemingly sensing Chen Chuan's resolve and knowing it had no power over him, it yielded to the ritual force of the outermost circle and sank back into the stone plaque.
Chen Chuan glanced down at his feet. In just a brief moment, the patterns of the covenant ritual had dissolved completely, leaving behind only faint traces. This meant the covenant was successfully forged.
He walked to the center and picked up the stone plaque. This was the fiercest and most sentient urban legend he had encountered so far. With it in hand, he could now launch an unseen strike against Zhao Qian.
However, there were nuances to consider: it would be best to strike when Zhao Qian was away from base.
Every major corporation maintained field organisms. Even if they were not active conscious entities like Posuo or Hongfu, they still repelled all external anomalous activity.
Take Wuyi as an example: anyone exhibiting severe anomalous reactions was barred from entry. Likewise, inside Xuan Palace Building, any anomalous reaction detected would be actively suppressed to some degree.
Moreover, third-limit fighters possessed extraordinarily tenacious vitality. If the urban legend's assault was repelled by the field, and life-saving drugs or emergency medical personnel intervened in time, Zhao Qian might actually survive. Therefore, choosing the right moment to strike was crucial.
Storing the stone plaque away, he returned to his car and drove straight to Gao Ming's place. Before coming out here, he had already agreed with Gao Ming that once the ritual succeeded, they would discuss the next steps.
An hour later, Chen Chuan arrived at Gao Ming's apartment and placed the stone plaque on the desk before him.
Gao Ming couldn't help but study it closely. He had already known Chen Chuan was adept at dealing with urban legends and had seen remnants left behind by them, but this was the first time he had seen an active, intact urban legend up close.
He asked, "Cousin, are you confident?"
Chen Chuan said, "I can't say for sure whether Zhao Qian has some form of vital protection on him, but this is the most reliable method available right now. Even if it fails once, we can always find another opportunity to try again."
His covenant ritual with the civet stipulated that as long as a sacrifice was offered and the creature had attacked him face-to-face, it could strike at the target he designated. However, whether directed at the same target or a different one, there was only one attempt permitted per month.
This limitation had not been introduced by Chen Chuan; it was an inherent rule of the original esoteric cult's ritual. After consuming enough sacrifices, an urban legend would attempt to break free from its shackles, so the cultists had used the ritual itself to curb it. Chen Chuan agreed with that approach and had seen no reason to complicate matters by altering it.
Gao Ming said, "If that's the case, Cousin, we might run this in tandem with the other two plans. We can have the Disposal Bureau apply pressure to Lianwei Heavy Control first. If that takes care of Zhao Qian, there'll be no need for subsequent steps. If it doesn't, we wait until he heads out of the city to strike.
"I checked Zhao Qian's travel records. It's likely he'll personally oversee an escort run either this month or next month. That will be an ideal window to make our move."
At this point, he reminded Chen Chuan, "During this period, Cousin, you need to stay on guard. The failed attempt on you last time doesn't mean Zhao Qian gave up—he's probably investigating why it failed. Once he figures it out, you might face another attack before you even have a chance to strike."
Chen Chuan nodded. "I'm prepared."
Wu Bei had been keeping an eye out to see if anyone was tailing him, and so far nothing had turned up. At present, Chen Chuan spent the vast majority of his time either in Xuan Palace Building or at Instructor Zheng's home; neither location offered an opening for an ambush.
The only time someone might strike was when he traveled to the Haijing Grounds—that was when they had ambushed him last time as well. But as long as he stayed vigilant, he could avoid it just the same.
Gao Ming said, "Since you're prepared, Cousin, tomorrow I will submit a formal complaint to the Disposal Bureau in my capacity as your personal solicitor. On the grounds of an attack on a candidate law enforcer of the Disposal Bureau, I will demand that Zhao Qian be detained and investigated."
Chen Chuan asked, "What about the evidence?"
Gao Ming said, "'Round Fatty,' the clue Youxing sent you, is the evidence. It's a widely known alias for Lianwei Heavy Control. Once that's submitted, the Disposal Bureau will definitely make good use of it. Regardless of the outcome, they'll seize on this pretext to pressure Lianwei Heavy Control."
"But how does that prove it's connected to Zhao Qian?"
Gao Ming smiled. "We don't need proof. If an explanation is strictly required, we can say Youxing confessed it before dying. All that matters is making sure both the Disposal Bureau and Lianwei Heavy Control know this entire mess was provoked by Zhao Qian."
Chen Chuan considered it and nodded slightly. This approach was indeed viable. In the eyes of Lianwei Heavy Control Company, whether someone had actually done it was completely beside the point; what mattered was whether they could resolve the trouble without impacting the company's business. If they failed, accountability would undoubtedly follow.
Gao Ming lifted his head slightly, the light catching the surface of his glasses. Smiling, he added, "Even if Zhao Qian manages to reach a compromise with the Disposal Bureau and bury the fallout, bringing this matter into the open means he won't be able to make another move against you for the time being. And by then, Cousin, you can proceed with your method."
Chapter 300