If Pang is a member of the Night Rose, killing him to question his spirit would yield valuable information and accelerate the pursuit of Black Immortal. Zhang Yuanqing felt a surge of delight. Black Immortal had remained elusive for a long time, and he was more anxious than Fu Qingyang. "But why would he kill me now? At this crucial moment, such a move would only create complications," Zhang Yuanqing couldn't understand. "He has his own reasons for doing so. Once I kill him, then questioning his spirit will reveal everything," Fu Qingyang opened the wine cabinet, took out red wine and high balls, and said, "Shall we have a glass?" Now I finally understand how Li Dongze learned his habits. Zhang Yuanqing shook his head and said, "Do you have any cola?" Fu Qingyang placed back one high ball, and said calmly, "Then you'll have to wait until everything is settled and go buy it yourself." He sipped at the tart red wine, his expression natural, as if he were simply heading to a club rather than going to kill someone. Only someone from a long-established, affluent family could cultivate such calm composure—Zhang Yuanqing couldn’t quite manage it. Right now, his mind was racing with questions: how to make the young executive, Pang Zhi Shi, perish gracefully, what information did Pang already possess about the night roses, and what risks would he himself have to bear if the plan failed? Directly in front of the community entrance is a plaza, at the center of which stands a fountain pond—at first glance, it seems more like a high-end hotel. Truly well-off; the housing prices here must be at least 150,000 yuan, Zhang Yuanqing mused. "Commander, shall we just proceed as is? Won't that scare off the guards? Shouldn't we make some prior arrangements?" Zhang Yuanqing put forward his suggestion. Fu Qingyang replied calmly: "Pang Wudi has dispatched his spirits to kill you. He must now be waiting at home for updates. Until those spirits return, patience is the most reliable strategy. Our surprise visit at night is precisely to catch him off guard—any excessive preparation might instead alert him." Though his tone was composed, the young noble patiently explained this to his trusted subordinate. Then, he shifted his tone: "Still, we must conduct some essential reconnaissance, in case there are members of the Night Rose operating nearby, who might disrupt our plans." How exactly? Zhang Yuanqing was curious. Fu Qingyang raised his right hand, pointing his index finger like a sword to his brow. At that moment, Zhang Yuanqing vaguely saw a shallow white ripple emanate from Fu Qingyang's brow, spreading outward like ripples on water. As it expanded, the light grew fainter, eventually becoming imperceptible. A few seconds later, Fu Qingyang opened his eyes and said, "There's no ambush nearby." Seeing his trusted subordinate staring in astonishment, he smiled calmly, "Don't be surprised—this is what a scout is supposed to do!" Zhang Yuanqing, however, thought: This is truly a sharp eye—compared to this, Li Dongze is merely a facade. After speaking, Fu Qingyang opened the car door and walked to the gate booth at the entrance of the residential complex, his gaze calm as he addressed the gatekeeper: "Open the gate!" In such a prestigious neighborhood, entry and exit require a card swipe. The gatekeeper was taken aback by the striking young man—dressed in a well-tailored, crisp white suit, with a neat, short ponytail, handsome to the point of being effortlessly commanding. His gaze was deep and composed, The gatekeeper respectfully asked, "May I know which household you belong to?" Fu Qingyang calmly replied, "Open the door—don't waste my time." Unaccountably, a deep sense of reverence and submission surged within the gatekeeper, who then hurriedly opened the access. Fu Qingyang gave a slight nod, passed through the iron gate, and entered the residential complex. Seeing this, Zhang Yuanqing hurried after him, only to be stopped by the gatekeeper: "Wait a moment! Which household are you from?" Recalling the scene just moments before, Zhang Yuanqing composed himself, his gaze deep and serene, imitating Fu Qingyang's regal, almost royal demeanor, and said softly, "Don't waste my time." The gatekeeper studied him closely for a few moments before growing impatient and waved him off: "Go on, go on!" "... "Zhang Yuanqing's face slightly flushed with embarrassment, and had to resort to his magical arts to enchant the elderly man, slipping quietly into the complex himself. It's not that my presence lacks the same aura as Fu Qingyang's—it's simply that our professions differ, and thus he cannot enchant the gatekeeper the way I can... He Quickly catching up with Fu Qingyang, Zhang Yuanqing quietly complained: "Why not scale the wall? Going through the main gate would leave traces." The well-dressed figure in white moved steadily forward, calmly saying, "Don't forget who we are—we are the official representatives." Fine, if it were Li Dongze, he'd certainly say scaling the wall wasn't graceful! Zhang Yuanqing muttered to himself. After acquiring this artifact, Pang Wuyi used it to defeat several enemies who were inconvenient for him to confront directly, never failing. This artifact is a masterpiece of assassination—eliminating enemies without trace, leaving absolutely no evidence, as sharp as a scout and impossible to detect any clues. Its only flaw is that it has little effect against opponents at the Sage Realm level, and the cost of using it is that after ten applications, the spirit of evil will pursue and hunt the user in dreams. Of course, for Pang Wuyi, who has reached the Sage Realm, this would merely create some minor, inconveniencing crises. "After Yuan Shǐ Tian Zun's passing, Fu Qingyang will certainly be furious, but he will find it difficult to suspect me. Still, he is keenly observant—over the next three days, I must keep a close watch." Pang Wuyi finished off the wine in his cup, and at that moment, a scene flashed through his mind: Fu Qingyang, dressed in a white formal suit, leading a handsome young man, arrived at the security door. This scene is a potted plant that he placed outside, sent back to him by the Sacred Realm's wooden spirit—a plant that can transmit signals to nearby flora, turning them into its own "eyes." Has the Primordial Heavenly Sovereign not died? Has he actually come to visit? Impossible! Pang Wuyi's eyes narrowed, a wave of astonishment and bewilderment surging through him instantly. He quickly made up his mind and decided to leave. First, he would depart, inform the contact, "Heaven's Injustice," of the failed assassination, then report to his superiors, and await further instructions, adapting as needed. In short, he couldn't stay here—at the very least, he needed to handle the assassination equipment. With his decision made, Pang Wuyi hurried toward the balcony, aiming to jump out the window. "Plink... plink..." The security door's locks melted into molten iron, dripping steadily. The door opened, and Fu Qingyang, wearing dark red gloves, stepped in. "Stay here—you won't make it," Fu Qingyang said calmly, gazing at Pang Wuyi's figure rushing toward the balcony. Pang Wudi spun a handful of spores into the air without turning around. The spores surged with the wind, transforming into plant-like creatures resembling small octopuses, their tentacles swaying and enveloping Fu Qingyang and Zhang Yuanqing. Zhang Yuanqing darted to the side, dodging the "octopus" plants that shot toward him. He had not expected the two to launch into battle so swiftly—no words exchanged at all. Fu Qingyang did not retreat. Amidst the swirling plants, he moved with apparent ease, as if calculating the trajectories of the octopus-like creatures. Though he seemed to stroll leisurely, he skillfully avoided every plant that came to cover him. At the same time, Fu Qingyang flipped his right hand, producing a small, deep-green banner. With a flick of his fingers, he launched it. "Ha!" The banner drove into the tiles of the balcony, rising to form a glowing, translucent barrier that imprisoned Pang Wudi within the balcony space. "Hmph!" Pang Wudi's body suddenly swelled, as though inflated like a balloon, growing into a giant three meters tall. His muscles tightened and hardened, resembling thick vines. He delivered a powerful blow At that moment, Fu Qingyang had already reached the balcony entrance, pulling out the Eight-Direction Sword from his inventory—covered in copper patina. Pang Wuyi’s eyes flashed with a hint of fear, and he exhaled a gray, misty vapor. Within the vapor floated microscopic spores, invisible to the naked eye, possessing a strong predatory nature. Once they came into contact with living organisms, they would grow rapidly, relentlessly draining their vitality. The thick mist surged in, overwhelming even the scouts’ predictive maneuvers. Yet Fu Qingyang did not retreat an inch. With his left hand, he grasped a slender white flag, embroidered with a majestic white tiger. "Roar!" The ethereal roar echoed throughout the room, dispersing the mist. Fu Qingyang took a single step forward, raising the Eight-Direction Bronze Sword high. Pang Wuyi’s broad frame suddenly trembled; his legs seemed to lose coordination—his left foot wanted to step left to evade, his right foot to step right, while his upper body had its own intentions. In the end, he could only summon a set of vine armor, covering his towering three-meter frame. Fu Qingyang delivered a single sword stroke. At that instant, the reed armor split open, flesh and muscle separated, and this three-meter-tall giant was severed in two. Organs tumbled down with a rustling sound, and deep crimson blood spread across the terrace floor tiles. Zhang Yuanqing, watching this scene from behind, was both stunned and delighted, a flurry of thoughts racing through his mind: Dead? A Sage had just perished like this... Why hadn't he moved to avoid it? This strike was ordinary—was it really difficult to evade? Fu Qingyang withdrew his bronze sword and command banner, then calmly turned to face him: "Come and ask the spirit!" "Very good, very good," Zhang Yuanqing gathered his scattered thoughts and hurried forward.