Dancing? Ou Xiangrong was taken aback, his mind momentarily struggling to catch up. How could a supernatural artifact invite him to dance? With a cold laugh, he immediately dismissed the idea—how could he possibly dance alongside his enemy’s shoes during battle? He bit through his tongue and spurted a stream of blood onto Li Ren’s gleaming blade. As an experienced traveler of the Spirit Realm and a being of the evil profession, Ou had faced numerous night-wanderers, knowing well their special abilities. Supernatural artifacts were renowned for their strangeness; Ou had once been plagued by one for several days, finding it particularly tenacious. Yet their clear drawback was their relatively weak offensive power. Moreover, supernatural artifacts generally feared strong yang energy—such a piece, suspected of harboring a lingering spirit of resentment, could be effectively subdued simply by a single stream of blood from the tip of the tongue. Not a serious issue at all. The red ballet shoe, rising and falling, waited a few seconds, sensing the human before it unwilling to dance with it—seeming displeased. A subtle glow of deep red pulsed across its surface, and with a rapid series of taps, it surged toward Ouyang Xiangrong. Ouyang Xiangrong remained motionless, calmly awaiting the shoe's approach. As it leapt toward his head to strike, he calmly raised his willow blade, aiming to deliver a decisive blow to the vengeful spirit dwelling within. Yet, when the blade passed through the shoe, there was no tangible sensation of impact—the shoe seemed to exist in a different realm, out of sync with the physical world. The characteristics of this item seem rather reminiscent of a certain foreign profession. How could a Level 1 Night Wandering Spirit possess equipment typical of a foreign occupation? Before he could ponder further, the strange dancing shoes in Ou Xiangrong's line turned and advanced once more, stepping relentlessly toward him. Without pausing to wipe the blood from his nose, Ou Xiangrong raised his arms across his chest, and with two solid thuds, the enchanting spirit was knocked off the roof of the vehicle. Ou Xiangrong either lunged forward, sprinted, rolled, or used the vehicles for cover, maneuvering skillfully through the spacious underground garage, successfully avoiding most of the dancing shoes' steps. Yet he still suffered several direct impacts, each one causing intense pain—worsening the injuries sustained during the battle last night, with blood seeping from his organs. Indeed, quite formidable. The useless master, Zhang Yuanqing, watched the dancing shoes' assault in stunned silence, deeply realizing once again the terrifying power of equipment belonging to the rule-based category. Its pursuit cannot be disrupted or interrupted; the target can only passively endure it, unless the rules governing it are broken—then, it must dance. But that is unrealistic. Even if Ouyang Xiangrong yields to the Red Slippers and endures the shame of performing tap dancing, he will still intervene, causing errors in his performance. Any such misstep renders all efforts futile. Nevertheless, Zhang Yuanqing now has a clear understanding of the power of the enchanting spirit. With the force of the Red Slippers' footfalls, Ouyang Xiangrong manages to withstand it—his physical resilience is truly remarkable. "Ouyang Xiangrong won't simply wait to die passively. Once he realizes he can only endure the attacks and cannot counter them, he will surely choose to flee..." Zhang Yuanqing remains alert—he must strike before the other escapes. He doesn't need to kill the killer, only to hold him in place. Thud! Thud! Ouyang Xiangrong once again fails to evade, struck squarely in the face by two footfalls from the Red Slippers. He stumbles back, momentarily blacking out, dizzy and disoriented. Opportunity! Zhang Yuanqing burst forward like a cheetah, wielding the Fumu Jie as he sprinted, tracing an arc and circling around Ou Xiangrong's back. He drove the Fumu Jie straight into his back. "Whoosh!" Suddenly, a dense, misty glow of white light intercepted the three-pointed tip of the Fumu Jie. This force emanated from the bronze belt plaque held tightly in Ou Xiangrong's left hand—a ancient plaque etched with cracks and stained with blood, as though belonging to a seasoned veteran of long campaigns. It was Zhao Yingjun's defensive artifact. "Defensive equipment?" Zhang Yuanqing, startled by the failed ambush, stepped aside and hurried around Ou Xiangrong, repeatedly striking the ethereal white wall with the Fumu Jie, creating ripples of luminous waves. This time, protected by the red ballet shoes, he narrowly avoided several lethal blows and punches from the enchanting demon, escaping unscathed. Crack! Finally, under the relentless impact of the Fumu Jie and the red ballet shoes, the bronze belt plaque shattered into fragments, and the white glow dispersed into scattered light particles. At that moment, Zhang Yuanqing's night-wandering period ended, and his body materialized. Ou Xiangrong had been waiting for precisely this moment—redness surged in his eyes, and twisted, eerie runes emerged on his surface. Enchanting! A thunderous roar echoed in Zhang Yuanqing's mind, leaving him momentarily speechless and unable to think. He forgot he was in the midst of battle, as a voice resonated continuously within his consciousness: "Lower your weapons. Don't resist. Lower your weapons. Don't resist..." Ou Xiangrong laughed grimly, his willow blade sweeping toward the young night-wanderer's neck. He had deliberately chosen to endure the assault from the terrifying dancing shoes rather than use this defensive item—his intention had been to wait for the night-wanderer to make the first move. This equipment, originally from the scout class, was already half-damaged; if used prematurely, it would only withstand the shoes' attack for a short while before being completely compromised. So, he had simply endured, creating a deliberate vulnerability to lure the night-wanderer into taking the initiative. As he had anticipated, the young night-wanderer lacked experience and was impulsive—indeed, he had fallen But as the blade neared the young night wanderer’s neck, Ou Xiangrong saw his body suddenly collapse, the willow blade brushing the scalp and cutting off several strands of hair. The red dancing shoes that had relentlessly pursued him earlier appeared on the night wanderer’s feet, forcing him into a straight-legged stance and thereby evading Ou’s throat-cutting strike. At the same time, the night wanderer—whose fate had been meant to be influenced—bloomed with a brilliant golden light in his eyes, instantly regaining his composure. With a spring of his legs, he forcefully collided into Ou Xiangrong. Ou Xiangrong had never anticipated such a turn of events, never imagining that a mere Level 1 night wanderer could break free from his influence. Still maintaining the posture of his raised blade, he could not gather his strength and was helpless as the yellow bronze staff drove straight into his chest. "Pff!" The flesh and muscle were torn apart, and the tip of the staff burst forth with a resplendent golden glow, consuming the vitality within his chest. Ou Xiangrong went momentarily blind, his pain nearly driving him unconscious. Yet, as a seasoned spirit-appealing demon, he drew upon his latent strength in the moment of near-death, pulling his right arm back and dragging the willow blade toward the night-wanderer's throat. At the same time, he tightened the muscles in his left arm, flexed his elbow, and transformed his left fist into a solid, force-filled spear, driving it with a crisp 'thwack' into the enemy's shoulder. Zhang Yuanqing suddenly lifted his head, narrowly avoiding the slicing blade, only to be struck in the shoulder by Ou Xiangrong's punch, sending him flying like a broken sandbag. Clang! Zhang Yuanqing collided with a business vehicle, shattering the windows, and as he continued to descend, his form was gradually erased, vanishing from Ou Xiangrong's sight once more. He entered the night-wanderer state once again. Ou Xiangrong, however, did not look at him. He staggered forward, toward Xu Yingying. His heart had been shattered. Now, the only thing that could save him was living human blood—blood he would need to draw from the slain, to fuel his own Then burst out of the underground parking garage, purge the campus, restore his wounds and reverse the course of life and death through the bloodthirsty nature of the spectral beast. Yet this would inevitably drop his moral value below 60, leading to his being pursued by the spiritual realm and surrounded and slaughtered by all the spiritual travelers in the city. But now, he couldn't afford to dwell on such matters anymore. Drip... drip... Two faint dark red glimmers materialized out of nowhere, coalescing into a pair of fresh crimson dance shoes, launching a decisive assault on Ou Xiangrong. To Ou Xiangrong at that moment, these footsteps sounded like the funeral bell, the sigh of Death, the verdict of Yama. Thud! Thud! Ou Xiangrong's face was trampled, his flesh and blood smeared, and he collapsed uncontrollably, his head rising upward. Yet at the very last moment, he hurled his willow blade from his hand. The blade, measuring forty centimeters in total length, shot forth as a silver streak toward Xu Yingying. Ou Xiangrong fixed his gaze firmly on the blade's edge. Ping! Suddenly, It was Zhang Yuancheng. Witnessing this scene, the hope in Ou Xiangrong's eyes turned to despair and resentment. At that moment, the red ballet shoes descended from the sky, crushing his face, flattening his nose, splitting his lips, and forcing his two eyeballs to burst out. Ou Xiangrong spasmed briefly before his life completely faded. Zhang Yuancheng sat down heavily beside Xu Yingying, exhaled deeply, as if drained. A surge of anger surged within his chest, and his hands and feet continued to tremble. This was not fear—it was the heightened mental alertness brought on by a surge of adrenaline. When people face imminent danger and must fight for survival, adrenaline floods their bodies, enabling them to act with unwavering resolve, even to the point of killing without hesitation. Commonly known as "being on top of one's game!" The operational plan had succeeded. Before the battle, Zhang Yuancheng had already envisioned the entire strategy clearly. The only element he needed to avoid was the enemy's persuasive skill. Therefore, before deciding on the surprise attack, he had already made a sacrifice—offering the Fengmo Chopper. Among the The second form of the Red Dance Shoes was his reliable asset in close combat, truly enabling him to evade a fatal throat-cutting attack. Marking, mesmerizing, raging, and engaging in close-range fighting—Eu Xiangrong had meticulously analyzed and strategically countered every aspect of his abilities. If he still couldn't win under these conditions, Zhang Yuanqing thought there was no point in continuing. After taking several minutes to steady his breathing, Zhang Yuanqing composed himself and heard a subtle notification from the spiritual realm: 【Ping! You have defeated a Level 3 Mesmerizing Spirit Beast. Gained 30 points of Morality and 15 points of Reputation. Reputation is now active.】 Zhang Yuanqing was taken aback and immediately opened his character attribute panel, noticing the new Reputation section. Reputation? Was killing a spiritual realm traveler from the opposing faction rewarded with Reputation points? As a seasoned gamer, he was familiar with the concept of Reputation, but wasn't sure about its utility within the spiritual realm world. He paused to consider, deciding to set it aside for now and check the official forum later. Compared to the Reputation rewards from the spiritual realm, the tangible battlefield spoils from the real world held greater significance to him He rose and walked to Eu Xiangrong's body, kicking his eyes down to the vehicle floor, then dragging the body into the shadowed corner. He carefully searched the corpse and found a mobile phone and a wallet. The phone was an older model capable only of making calls; the wallet, however, was full and plump. Upon opening it, he discovered a stack of one-hundred-yuan bills and a fake ID. Zhang Yuanqing counted them carefully, "As a fugitive, carrying only over 1,500 yuan—does that make sense?" He removed the money and placed it into his own pocket. Then, he walked to the far end and picked up the sharp willow blade. As he touched the weapon, a message appeared in his view: 【Name: Blood-Thirsty Blade】 【Type: Weapon】 【Function: Causes bleeding, feeds on blood, penetrates armor】 【Description: A powerful enchantress once fed her own essence into this blade, and over time, it has grown increasingly bloodthirsty.】 Its blade can cut through tough steel; wounds inflicted by it are difficult to heal. It draws the essence of its prey, returning it to its master, thereby strengthening the master. [Note: If the blade doesn't belong to the master, then it is not a truly excellent blade.] "This blade is quite impressive. If it had killed Xu Yingying just now, Ou Xiangrong would have received a return benefit from the weapon—thankfully, I kept a close watch over Xu Yingying." Zhang Yuanqing returned to Ou Xiangrong's body, removed the scabbard from his back, equipped it on himself, and then inserted the "Blood-Thirsty Blade" into the scabbard. Currently, the blade has no master and is easily claimed simply by storing it in the inventory. However, Zhang Yuanqing does not yet wish to store it, as the note in the item description sends a sense of unease. The Blood-Thirsty Blade appears to be a cost-based item, and that note clearly outlines the cost of using it. Combining this description of the blade, Zhang Yuanqing could roughly deduce the cost—there were only two possibilities: first, whoever obtained the blade would be cursed and eventually perish; second, the blade required the owner to regularly nourish it with their vital essence. The latter was more likely. Another demand for vital essence—already the magical mallet had drained my energy to the point of anemia. How could I possibly endure this additional blade that feeds on blood? At that moment, Zhang Yuanqing noticed the red ballet slippers tapping steadily toward him, stepping and then settling, and a message appeared: 【Would you like to dance with me? If so, simply stay in place.】 He realized he had yet to return the item to his inventory and was about to decline and retrieve it when, suddenly, a notification from the Spiritual Realm reached his mind: 【Note: Each time you use this item, you must dance. If you refuse, the red ballet slippers will no longer appreciate you and will initiate a pursuit against you.】 Zhang Yuanqing was astonished, his mouth opening slightly—this was the first time since he had secured the Red Dance Shoes that he had used the rule-based item in the real world, and he had completely failed to anticipate the cost involved. "If you don't dance with me, I'll kill you?" That was truly unreasonable. Zhang Yuanqing beamed and rose from his seat, "I'd be delighted." Soon, crisp tapping sounds echoed through the spacious, quiet parking garage. This time, Zhang Yuanqing did not trigger his chronic ailment but instead, thanks to his exceptional physical condition, completed a dance—though his steps were frequently off. Fortunately, as the owner of the item, he remained unharmed by the Red Dance Shoes. After finishing the dance, the Red Dance Shoes stepped back with their right foot, lifted both toes, and bowed gracefully on one knee. As soon as Zhang Yuanqing returned the shoes to his inventory, a sudden flurry of footsteps came from the steep slope. Turning to listen, he saw Li Dongze leading Guan Ya, along with seven or eight unfamiliar travelers from the Spiritual Realm, rushing toward and into the underground garage. Some held guns, others knives, some carried cats—fully equipped. Fortunately, fortunately, they had already finished dancing. Zhang Yuanqing felt an overwhelming sense of relief.