To the extent of his sight, everything was shrouded in dense mist, the particles drifting with the air currents, like a stream of water, like flowing gauze. Zhang Yuanqing did not wander aimlessly; instead, he remained cautious and still in place. Had Li Xianzong summoned this great fog with the intention of not giving up? The longer he held on, the smaller the chances of escape became. Was this man relying on some hidden strength, or had he simply gone mad? Moreover, although Fu Qingyang had lost contact, the Security Office must have reported the situation. It was understandable that the steward could not arrive promptly—could the Dog Elder not make it either? Next time I see him, I’ll definitely give him a good scolding with my hands on his head. As he was pondering this, he heard a sharp gunshot, and instinctively fell to the ground, rolling over. "Bang, bang..." Two more shots rang out, and Zhang Yuanqing felt a sharp pain in his lower abdomen—knowing immediately that he had been wounded. Drawing on his memory, he rolled steadily toward a public bench, using the information desk as a shield against the following bullets. "Tapping... tapping..." The footsteps came from deep within the mist, followed by a relaxed, confident laugh: "I've got two minutes, Master Yuan-Shi. If you can hold on for two minutes under my watch, then we'll play again. Otherwise, I'm ending this trial early today and taking your head to settle my score." Bold! Zhang Yuanqing was especially impatient and easily agitated, instinctively reaching for his rifle to fire at the source of the sound—only to pause and rein in his temper. He was being provoked. Zhang Yuanqing recalled the details of what had just happened. When the gunshot rang out, he had been standing still. If the opponent had already locked onto him, his head would have been split open by now. Yet, when he executed his rolling maneuver, the bullet only struck his abdomen. Was it because a moving target is easier to hit than a stationary one? Clearly not. It was because his own instability in stance had initially concealed his position—only when he rolled did he become clearly targeted. He was likely judging his position by the tremors in the mist—let’s try that. Zhang Yuanqing silently summoned Little Dabbling, maneuvering him up the inquiry counter, where he knocked over a potted plant. "Clang... bang..." The sound of the plant crashing synchronized perfectly with the gunfire. Indeed, he had been relying on the vibrations in the mist to gauge his position—right at the moment the shots rang out, Zhang launched himself toward the source and fired. The barrel slid, spewing flame and smoke; the bullets traced pale red paths through the thick mist. The shots missed their target, bouncing off walls as shrapnel. That was his true shooting ability. Damn—it missed again. Zhang rolled continuously, entering stealth, and fled toward the waiting room. There was no need to engage him directly—his hostages were safe, and escape was the right move. I have plenty of allies—why fight him alone? Just as he began to move, a surge of mist surged from behind, sweeping in like a tidal wave. Zhang didn’t hesitate—he turned and fired immediately. The attacker behind him seemed to have anticipated his movements, tilting his head slightly as he turned to raise his arm, a pale crimson glow brushing past the opponent's ear. "Within my mist, you will not escape..." Close enough for the fog to reveal a sharp, defined face—high nose bridge, eyes keen and sharp as blades, a faint smile that held both mockery and challenge. As Zhang Yuanqing made out the face, he also noticed strange, deep crimson glyphs shimmering subtly in the attacker's eyes. Enchantment! The hallmark ability of an enchanting spirit-being—prolonged enchantment could fully control a person, while brief enchantment would strike a disruptive blow to their spirit. Zhang Yuanqing remained unmoved, raising his gun and firing a single shot. Drawing from his experience in the previous battle against Ou Xiangrong, he had already cast a purification spell upon himself in advance. Li Xianzong's face revealed clear astonishment, displaying the expected responsiveness of a mesmerizing spirit. He leaned back, his right leg sweeping in a sharp motion, kicking against Zhang Yuanqing's wrist—sending the bullet striking the ceiling. Zhang Yuanqing's explosive handgun flew from his hands, spinning out past the railing and landing in the main hall on the first floor. Without hesitation, Zhang activated his Night-Wanderer skill, dissolving his form. At that moment, he saw Li Xianzong raise his gun, now pointing directly at himself, who had already maneuvered to a side position. Could Li Xianzong see me? He must have deduced my location by the movement of the mist. Zhang Yuanqing felt a sudden chill. The Night-Wanderer skill could mask sound, breath, and heat, but it wasn't truly intangible—movement would inevitably create airflow. To some extent, this ability of the mesmerizing spirit was particularly effective against the Night-Wanderer's stealth. *Punch! Punch!* The bullets struck the floor, shattering tiles. Zhang, avoiding the shots, crouched low and moved around to Li Xianzong's back, closing the distance and cutting off the spirit's opportunity He held the Vamadeepa mace in one hand and the Blood-Drinking Blade in the other, the former piercing toward his back and the latter striking at his neck. Li Xianzong arched his mouth slightly, stepped sideways, and spun—his right hand flicked its five fingers, causing the silver butterfly knife to unfurl like wings, revealing its sharp edge. Li Xianzong then swept across with his backhand, precisely meeting the blade of the Blood-Drinking Blade with a sharp *clink*, sending sparks flying. Zhang Yuanqing felt a numbness in his wrist, nearly unable to hold the hilt. Suddenly, in Zhang Yuanqing’s vision, he saw Li Xianzong’s leg muscles swell and his back muscles tense instantly, generating a surge of upward force. With the Eye of Insight, he could now anticipate Li Xianzong’s movements. Zhang Yuanqing immediately pressed his palm downward. *Crack!* A faint sound of bone breaking reached his ears—the bones of his palm shattered against the firm knee. Zhang Yuanqing staggered back. The thick mist still partially obscured his view; otherwise, he would have reacted more swiftly. Flames erupted from Li Xianzong’s knees, searing through his pants and scorching his knee, yet he seemed pain-free, unwavering in his relentless assault. The butterfly knife slashed, stabbed, pierced, and cut—each movement carving deep, unhealable wounds across Zhang Yuanqing’s body. At the same time, his free hands and legs became formidable weapons, driving Zhang Yuanqing back step by step. Li Xianzong’s close-quarters combat prowess surpassed Zhang Yuanqing’s by several levels, and his 3-tier physical condition also outclassed Zhang Yuanqing’s 2-tier Night-Wanderer deity. Had it not been for the foresight granted by the "Perceiver’s Eye" and the agility conferred by the "Rampage Gauntlets," Zhang Yuanqing would have been decapitated already. "Pffft!" Li Xianzong drove his blade through Zhang Yuanqing’s chest, spewing a gush of blood. The seductive spirit of the demon now tasted blood, his eyes blazing crimson, his battle fervor soaring. Ddndd—Zhang Yuanqing gasped, retreating steadily. He's in terrible condition now, suffering intense pain throughout his body. The wounds that won't heal are beginning to show signs of severe blood loss, causing dizziness and fatigue. Clearly, Li Xianzong's butterfly knife has its own bleeding capabilities. Why haven't the reinforcements arrived? Is it the thick fog hindering their progress? I'm nearly at my limit. Good thing I didn't use the Tianchan incense furnace—otherwise, I'd have burned myself out. Zhang Yuanqing's condition is deteriorating. Facing the enemy's relentless, close-range attacks, he hasn't even had time to remove his red veil. Moreover, summoning the ghost bride requires a two- to three-second "charging" period before she appears—something unsuitable in this urgent situation. Time must be created somehow. "Not bad, but much weaker than I expected." Li Xianzong extended his tongue, as if trying to lap up the blood still clinging to the blade, yet for some reason held back, instead breaking into a broad smile. "Just one more minute. Don't think the reinforcements will come to save you—the thick fog will disorient them, making them feel as though they're walking in circles, like ghosts trapped in a maze. No one will come to rescue you, just a piece of meat on a chopping board." With those words, he didn't slow down, moving swiftly and relentlessly, pressing his attack on Zhang Yuqing without giving him a chance to catch his breath. The explosion lasted for several seconds before finally subsiding. Zhang Yuanqing collapsed to the ground, bleeding from all orifices, with multiple internal organs damaged—yet he had managed to create an opportunity. Without hesitation, he immediately summoned his red veil. But at that moment, Zhang Yuanqing began to cough violently, spitting out blood, his nose running with it; visions danced before his eyes, his lungs burning with pain, and his kidneys rapidly failing. He was poisoned. Li Xianzong, curled up on the ground, laughed triumphantly, his confident and satisfied laughter echoing through the room. He slowly rose to his feet, lifting a corner of his mouth. "The Night-Wanderer's vitality is indeed remarkable," he said. "The venom I administered on the blade took over a minute to take effect. Though the witch-pestilence practitioners may be humble and unclean, their methods are truly effective." He had previously slain a Level 4 witch-pestilence practitioner—thus, he himself carried the venom. Zhang Yuanqing's vision grew increasingly blurred, his limbs growing weak, his heartbeat growing faint. Despair settled deep within him. Li Xianzong said nothing, drew the gun sheathed at his waist, and aimed it at Zhang Yuanqing's head: "Sorry, I'll be taking your head now..." In the next moment, he lost his vision. At his lower leg, a small infant spirit tightly embraced him, taking over his sight. Little comic relief—Zhang Yuanqing was momentarily stunned. He hadn't issued any attack command to the little spirit, partly because he was too busy dealing with the enemies, and partly because the thugs' gloves had made him brash and instinctive. Yet, when he saw his master in danger, the little spirit had stepped in on his own. After all, he already possessed a decent level of intelligence. Seizing this opportunity, Zhang Yuanqing managed, with trembling hands, to slowly and carefully drape the red veil over his head. "Hmph!" Li Xianzong, though now blind, remained calm. He reached into his inventory and pulled out a stinking coat, which he draped over himself. Then, he folded his hands and bowed deeply to the side. Fate diminished. Curse invoked! The witch-wardens' depletions of fortune and curses affect neither the physical nor the spiritual form; while they may not be as adept as illusionists in handling spiritual entities, this saint-level artifact proves effective against lower-tier spirits. The soiled robe swayed, radiating a deep, dark glow, like a tide sweeping over the infant spirit at the lower leg. The little chatterbox shrieked, his form rapidly dissolving and becoming hazy, stained with filth—yet he refused to let go. One second, two seconds, three seconds, four seconds… As vision shifted, the little chatterbox held on until the very end, collapsing softly, growing ever more translucent, ever more faded… Upon regaining his sight, Li Xianzong turned to Zhang Yuanqing and saw the red cloth now covering his head. A terrifying, overwhelming wave of negative qi poured down upon him, like a tide, like a tsunami. Li Xianzong’s hair stood on end—his intuitive sense of the spirits of deception began to warn him. He fired two shots at the enemy’s head, without pausing to check the results, then quickly drew a pencil from his pocket and drew a circle on the ground At that very moment, a hazy light curtain enveloped the circle, and enveloped him. Li Xianzong vanished into the light. Meanwhile, Zhang Yuanqing's body was taken over by the ghost bride, his arms turning black, his muscles corded and knotted, his black veins standing out prominently, and sharp nails protruding from his ten fingers. Yet the enemy had already disappeared. The ghost bride could find no enemy, standing motionless in place. Go, go save him... Zhang Yuanqing silently repeated these words in his heart. Feeling his will, the ghost bride slowly advanced toward the nearly fading little sprite. Influenced by Zhang Yuanqing, she gradually knelt down, opened her arms, and cradled the nearly extinguished infant spirit within them, as if holding something regained. She absorbed the little sprite into her own being, and finally, with a sense of relief, lost consciousness. ... Fu Family Village. As the sun set, in the spacious conference hall. Fu Qingyang's face remained as cold and composed as frost, listening to the reports from his subordinates. At the conference table sat the team leaders from Kangyang District—Bai Long, Qingteng, Teng Yuan, Da Ji Bā, Quan Wang, and several other key members. "During the attack on Ping Tai Hospital, seven people were killed, twenty-three were lightly injured. The bombs have been defused, though the incident has had a significant negative impact and has now been handed over to the Public Security Bureau..." Li Dongze briefly summarized the aftermath—these were not within the purview of the Wu Xing Alliance, whose primary mission was to eliminate the disruptive Lingjing Travelers. "Except for Li Xianzong, who escaped, all the perpetrators have been eliminated. This time, Li Xianzong had been planning for a long time. He influenced the fallen travelers, deepening their belief in a mutual sacrifice, prompting them to launch a self-sacrificing assault. Meanwhile, Li Xianzong himself had already secured an escape route." Li Dongze raised the remote control and activated the projector. A photograph appeared on the screen, drawn in pencil with a circle. "Through on-site investigation, we have identified Li Xianzong's method of escape." According to our colleague's analysis in the central hall, this should be a piece of equipment belonging to a 'soil monster' profession. Unfortunately, the surveillance was off at the time, so we didn't get to see the specifics." Li Dongze said. Ling Jun, who had been rare in attending the meeting, remarked: "Fortunately, such attacks are hard to replicate. Under the moral value penalty system, although people are killed by fallen beings, Li Xianzong still incurs a certain moral deduction simply by persuading them. For a long time, he'll be hesitant to act this way." The moral value mechanism operates both directly and indirectly. Indirect killings occur when Journeyers use their abilities to influence others into committing crimes. Compared to direct killings, indirect deductions are generally smaller and depend on the strength of the influence. For instance, if someone is directly controlled—such as being turned into a puppet—the moral deduction is equivalent to that of a direct killing. However, if someone is merely encouraged or urged to commit a crime, the deduction is reduced or halved depending on the level of influence. The realm is free of bugs—much like a meticulously written program that anticipates every conceivable flaw a human might think of. At this moment, Jiang Jingwei expressed her complaint: "If the senior had arrived in time, the matter would have been resolved long ago." She voiced what the team leaders were too hesitant to say. They knew that Fu Qingyang had been attacked by the female guardian of the Hollow Sect, Yi Chuanmei, but they didn't understand why the Dog Senior had not arrived promptly. Fu Qingyang glanced around the table and said, "The Dog Senior went to the capital to attend to a matter." Specifically, to purify the red dancing shoes of Yuan Shǐ Tianzun. After briefly explaining, he turned to Guan Ya and asked, "How is Yuan Shǐ doing?" Guan Ya's tone was somewhat subdued: "We've administered the life essence serum—he's stable, though after waking up, he seems rather listless." The team leaders recalled the scene when they first found Yuan Shǐ Tianzun: he was on his knees, his hands as if clutching something, motionless, with his vital signs already very weak. Upon examining his condition, it was found that he had over ten cuts from knives and two gunshot wounds, suffering severe blood loss and organ failure. It was hard to imagine the intensity of blows he had endured in just a few minutes. Fu Qingyang's brow furrowed slightly, then relaxed, saying, "To have survived under Li Xianzong's care is already a stroke of luck. The rise of Yuan Shi has been too swift—some setbacks will only be beneficial." Pausing, he added, "No one should go to comfort him. That would only wound his sense of dignity." Fu Qingyang then continued, "From now on, your task is to thoroughly search for Li Xianzong within your respective jurisdictions, and alert your subordinates to be on guard against potential attacks." "You, the Level-3 Wayfarers, should no longer operate independently—maintain constant communication. Yuchuan Mei has already been injured by me and will not be available in the near term. I and Ling Jun will remain on duty around the clock." "As for Yuan Shi, keep him at home for the next few days and avoid any outings." The trials launched by the malevolent organization were jointly initiated by the Spiritual Council, the Military Bishop, and the School of Nothingness, targeting all members of the evil professions—anyone could hunt down official Sentinels to earn rewards. However, most of the time, the skirmishes between ordinary individuals were seen as minor affairs, lacking attention, while the clashes between talents or powerhouses were the real highlights. The team leaders nodded slightly. As seasoned official Sentinels, they had witnessed such scenarios numerous times. Each year, during mid-year and year-end, the evil professions launched unilateral hunts against the official Sentinels, engaging in mutual reconnaissance and counter-reconnaissance, hunting and counter-hunting, with casualties on both sides. Overall, the official Sentinels remained in a favorable position, though their primary concern was that these grassroots operatives—often likened to mice—excelled at guerrilla warfare, their movements elusive and unpredictable, leaving the official Sentinels often on the defensive. They weren't afraid of direct confrontation; they were afraid of being caught off guard. "Let's adjourn!" Fu Qingyang turned to the mixed-race beauty. "Stay with us, Guan Ya." "Everyone else left the conference room, leaving only the cousins inside." "Shouldn't you be advancing into the Spiritual Realm soon?" Fu Qingyang asked. "Within the next fifteen days," Guan Ya nodded. Fu Qingyang opened his inventory, pulled out a rifle about 1.2 meters long, with a black body adorned in striking golden patterns that shimmered beautifully. He handed it to Guan Ya. "I remember you applied for this item with the family, but the elders were dissatisfied with your lack of initiative and refused approval. From now on, it's yours." Guan Ya raised an eyebrow. "The elders really agreed?" Fu Qingyang shook his head. "This is a reward from the family—celebrating my promotion to the Elder Council. As long as I achieve the rank of Master in the mid-year combat quest. You've deliberately stayed at level 2 for so long. This time in the Spiritual Realm, I hope you'll reach level 3. With this rifle, you'll gain eligibility to join the mid-year quest. We can't keep doing this—Yuan Shǐ has already reached level 2." This time, Guan Ya didn't decline. She gazed at the weapon she had long admired, remaining silent. ... In the suburban area of Songhai, at a underground bar. The lighting was soft, with the air filled with the scent of smoke and sweat, and soothing music playing through the speakers. Though it was a bar, it lacked the dazzling lights and bustling noise typical of such venues—here, it was a black market where evil-class professionals gathered to exchange information, conduct business, and meet in secret. The emphasis was less on lively entertainment. Along the card seating area, a group of around twenty to thirty evil-class professionals sat, some whispering in low conversation, others haggling, and others making rather unrefined movements in public. Li Xianzong ascended the stairs to reach the underground bar and sat down beside Tian Lingling, saying, "Just pour me a bottle of wine—anything will do." The bartender brought over a glass of beer. Li Xianzong took a long swallow and belched comfortably. "Drinking wine while killing people—this is the ultimate of human life." "Tiān Líng Líng patted the younger one's shoulder and smiled, saying, 'The things you've done today, we've all heard about. You've already made a name for yourself right after arriving in Songhai!' Li Xianzong chuckled, 'I haven't even killed Yuan Shǐ Tian Zūn yet. I'll wait until I do—then I'll celebrate with you.' Tiān Líng Líng shook her wine cup, 'Have you actually fought him? How is he? Does he really live up to the legends?' 'He's quite extraordinary—there's a piece of equipment from the Saint's Realm. As for myself, I'm not bad, though defeating him won't be difficult.' Li Xianzong said casually. 'That's all that matters,' Tiān Líng Líng nodded, then added, 'What kind of equipment exactly?' 'A mere piece of torn cloth—night-wanderer class. Uncle Tian, do you have any way to get me a sorcerer's equipment that doesn't counteract this one? Without it, killing him will be tough.' Li Xianzong stated his purpose for coming today. Tiān Lí The celestial spirit rose, turned to the group, and declared with a strong voice, "Ladies and gentlemen, have you heard about the events at Ping Tai Hospital today? Does it feel satisfying?" The professional villains paused their current tasks, turned their attention toward them, and began shouting in unison. "Feeling good!" "Is it satisfying?" "Satisfying!" "Let's welcome our great hero—refreshments are free today!" The cheers grew more intense. "You must be truly fearless—how did you manage to escape unscathed? That's impressive. I really like your kind of wild spirit." "Hahahaha! Even at the very beginning of the trial, you've already delivered a powerful blow to Songhai Branch—far more impressive than those who went to the capital." "Did you manage to make the original celestial sovereign throw up?" "Great hero—we're going to follow you from now on. Let's go out and fight the official enforcers together and earn some extra income!" The strange shouts and laughter rose and fell continuously. A woman engaged in physical activity deliberately raised her voice in a high-pitched scream. Li Xianzong smiled and said, "A bunch "Once the commotion had subsided, Tian Ling Ling said, 'Has anyone been tailing us? Have we dealt with the aftereffects?' Li Xianzong replied casually, 'I've got it under control. I timed my departure so that I'd leave before the Saint and the Elders arrived.' Among the transcendental-stage wanderers, no one has yet been able to track him, nor can the scouts. As they were speaking, footsteps echoed from the stairwell. 'Dun, dun, dun...' The rhythm was odd—each step required a pause, as though the person were a child learning to walk. At first, no one noticed, but gradually, more and more people frowned and turned to gaze at the stairs. The footsteps descended steadily, maintaining a slow, deliberate pace, as if deliberately drawing attention. Finally, they caught a clear view of the visitor. A woman in a magnificent crimson traditional gown, embroidered with elegant gold threads and wearing a silver mask, stepped forward. In her hands, she held a red cord that seemed to fade in and out of view. Li Xianzong's face turned pale as he suddenly bent down, noticing a thin red thread, no thicker than a strand of hair, tied around his ankle—something he hadn't noticed before. The red-dressed woman set the thread aside, allowing it to fade away. With both hands behind her back, she lifted her toes slightly, like a little girl, and smiled brightly. "Wow, it's so lively! What are everyone playing at? Can I join in too?" Her gaze, shimmering beneath the silver mask, turned to the bald man, and she exclaimed with delight, "Ah, it's you! Thank the heavens—I've finally found you! Do you remember the Chu family's massacre twenty-one years ago?"