–Yang Zicang!–
Amid the crimson light screen, Yang Zicang, who had just turned a corner from a metal passage, heard Director Huang’s incredulous voice.
–Ha, I figured it would be you.– Yang Zicang declared loudly, –Quite the smooth operator you are—changed your name, right? Does your father know you changed it?–
A buzzing echo reverberated through the passage.
–Cut the crap. My Banshee Demon is called Huang Zhong, so what’s that got to do with me, Huang Hsu?–
–Seems like the nightmare haven’t completely rotted your brain yet.–
Yang Zicang turned into a blur and rushed into the passage, quickly reaching Director Huang’s previous spot, but that guy had already vanished without a trace.
A nightmare that can burrow underground—such a nuisance.
Yang Zicang looked up. from high above in the overhead ducts, a clamor emerged, as if someone else had followed in.
……
By now, Huang Hsu had already run back.
–Oh no, it’s that Yang Zicang.– he reported.
–Yang Zicang?–
The big man codenamed Lu Zhishen felt like his head was about to explode; the defender’s killing intent overwhelmed him.
He grabbed Huang Hsu, shoved the book into his hand, and said, –Your turn.–
As the book entered Director Huang’s hands, he felt his spirit suffer a heavy blow, momentarily disoriented, losing all sense of direction. He simply poured his mental energy into the flood of information surging into his mind, sustaining the phantom birthed by this tome.
After Lu Zhishen stepped out, he gasped for air as if relieved of a great burden, feeling as though he had come back to life.
Containing the Defier was truly an exhausting endeavor.
–Huang Hsu!–
The echo reverberated far beyond the corridor.
The burly man furrowed his brows. As he walked outside, he glanced at the dark crimson watch wound around his wrist and let out a cold snort.
–Don’t rush, Grandpa’s coming to play with you.–
He stepped out of the broken pipeline, and at the same moment, Yang Zicang’s figure appeared below.
Their gazes met, and Lu Zhishen couldn’t help but silently acclaim him—such vigor and spirit were even purer than Lyu Bu’s, like a martial arts grandmaster who had cultivated for countless years.
–What aura. Don’t worry, I won’t take your life,– Lu Zhishen chuckled.
–Oh?–
–Because Matt Chao wants to butcher you with his own hands.–
Yang Zicang was taken aback for a moment, then curled his lips in a mocking smirk.
The phantom sound of a train echoed within the lair.
Hearing this familiar sound, Lu Zhishen felt a flicker of disbelief—at this hour, shouldn’t Matt Chao be on the other side? Why would he be heading here to see him?
He sensed his own consciousness, finding no fluctuations. However, the next moment, he saw a phantom of the station platform emerging behind the young man below.
–Heh heh, so that’s how it is.–
A playful smirk spread across Lu Zhishen’s face. He looked at the young man as if he were a corpse.
……
Several zigzagging rays shot toward Director Huang’s chest. But he, engrossed in controlling the cherished treasure, couldn’t spare a moment’s attention. Realizing the shift in person, the Heroes Alliance urgently tried to contact Lu Zhishen directly.
A deep red zigzag ray shot toward a small red ring that automatically materialized on Lu Zhishen’s chest.
[Good thing you’re out. Hurry, seize Matt Chao’s body—there’s still a chance for revival. Beware of his Nightmare, it can devour souls!]
–What the hell?– the burly man was momentarily taken aback.
Bang! A crimson-yellow train burst through the phantom, revealing part of its carriage as it appeared within the station behind Yang Zicang.
Strangely, Yang Zicang did not fall asleep.
The Paleshade Wyrm, clutching the still-intact half of Matt Chao’s mind body, emerged.
Lu Zhishen glanced at this thing with confusion but instantly understood what it was. His eyes widened as he stared incredulously behind Yang Zicang, immediately turning bloodshot.
–Ah, that’s Matt Chao! What have you done to him?–
–It was its choice. Now Matt Chao is my mount.–
Yang Zicang, who showed no sign of sleep at all, deliberately remarked.
Footsteps from behind drew near; Yang Zicang turned his head and cast a brief glance at them.
–Yang Zicang, stop at once! Do not hinder the Hero Group from taking it in, or great calamity awaits!–
Before them glowed circular badges in red and white, worn by people from two sides rarely seen mingling together—united for the same cause.
A cold gleam flashed in Yang Zicang’s eyes. –It seems the Councillor’s guidance pales before Hero Prestige’s fame.–
He could not defy the Councillor by any means; his future could not be confined here. Only by pressing forward could he reach the truth of this world.
Just as his hand began to open, ready to unleash some skill, a roar suddenly echoed from deeper within the corridor behind him.
–Yang Zicang, go for it! I’ll take care of these worthless scumbags!–
The young man’s pupils contracted slightly—that voice was somewhat familiar.
It was Luo Xin and his teammates’ voices.
A surging wave of overbearing auras from the defenders permeated this place; simply setting foot here was a feat achievable only by those who were exceptional, like dragons among men.
These people cutting off the escape route are nothing but pitiful wretches driven by the Xiong Ying Group. The crowd blocking Yang Zicang’s retreat changed color instantly; just as they shifted formation, a flash of firelight suddenly burst forth.
–Brother Yang, I’m here too.–
Over there appeared a graceful figure riding a motorcycle. Liang Xi jumped off and, with a single move, sent two people flying. The elegant figure cast a cold glance in this direction before the motorcycle beneath her roared, crashing toward those charging with swords ahead.
At once, the other end of the passage erupted in chaotic shouts and battle cries.
A hint of solemnity rose in Yang Zicang’s eyes as he raised his hand. The Chronos War Artifact—once Matt Chao’s fifty-year legacy—performed a deft flourish, angling upward diagonally.
–Annoying flies have met their match. As for you, any last words?–
–The Fen Yun Sword… that’s the Chronos War Artifact.–
Lu Zhishen clenched his left fist, and the red Quad flashed!
The watch face on his wrist expanded, ticking, akin to the gears of time clicking. That repeated second hand sound spread outward, weighing on the heart like heavy, urgent footsteps.
–Come, my Chronos War Device and accompanying Nightmare are both it, and I’ll tell you plainly, also fifty years. I never imagined these two weapons would fight each other.–
Boom! The watch face shimmered with rotating hands that clacked like scissors as they closed in.
The entire space was instantly engulfed, as if shrouded in a phantom crimson flame.
A profound sense of crisis surged in Yang Zicang’s heart. He yanked the train door, and with a whoosh, it roared away, vanishing, piercing through the encroaching sapphire mirror surface, charging toward the rapidly expanding energy platform within the giant man’s skull.
–It actually…–
Lu Zhishen was furious and grieving—the Nightmare was just a Nightmare after all, with no semblance of loyalty.
Yang Zicang straddled the train door, like a knight wielding his spear as he lunged: –Is it that hard to guess?–
Lu Zhishen’s mind went hazy for a moment, but in the next instant, his wrist’s dial lit up, snapping him awake. Right then, a gust of wind swept behind his neck.
The train that had rushed from the front instantly reappeared horizontally behind him, its thrusting longsword trailing a crimson phantom as it stabbed out.
–All Chronos!–
[Because I am Quad, I can quadruple the amplification! 39,996N!]
Bang! The swordlight lifted the giant man into the air.
Only by gathering all the Chronos can one achieve a killing blow!
–It… actually listens to you so obediently!–
The towering figure flew out, and his wristwatch once again conjured a mirrored surface to catch his falling body.
[I have negated 20,000N.]
An ethereal layer of armor-like air appeared around Lu Zhishen’s celestial form.
Yang Zicang’s eyes narrowed sharply: –You have a defense module.–
–Ha, so don’t even dream of killing me in one strike, you fool.–
A massive, crimson-tinged fist came swinging, as Lu Zhishen adopted a grand and unrestrained stance, throwing punches that blasted through the air.
The air exploded with a roar, yet failed to capture the elusive figure flickering before him.
Yang Zicang’s longsword coiled like a swimming dragon, piercing through the dense curtain of fist shadows straight into his throat—Boom!
[500 NEWTONS OFFSET.]
That shockwave rippled only slightly, fainter than before.
–I don’t believe it can block endlessly.– Yang Zicang swung his sword savagishly, blades of light flaring.
–True, but I also don’t believe you have that many Chronos!–
Tick-tock, tick-tock—Boom!
[999 NEWTONS OFFSET.]
Yang Zicang vaulted over the train door, a crimson gleam erupting in his hand, and a fiery roar carried a blaze of fleeting shadows and gold in a detonation.
[20,000 NEWTONS OFFSET.]
[Morris!]
{Here it comes, a full renewal, the brand-new 9999N!}
The two figures crossed paths once more, exchanging flashes of fists and sword shadows as their legs kicked against each other. After only momentary contact, they quickly leaped apart.
[I’ve had 39,996N canceled out.]
In an instant, within a millisecond, the freshly gained 9999N was completely nullified, erased without even a moment’s stay.
–Watch my fist!–
[Morris!]
Yang Zicang dared not use any part of his body to block the opponent’s left fist, equipped with the Chronos battle gear, for doing so could cause his own resistance to exceed the 9999N amplification limit and result in his sudden death.
Fortunately, prolonged training in his dreams had honed his control over his body to the absolute peak of human capability.
His figure retreated instantaneously, the fist grazing past his nose as, simultaneously, he thrust his sword upward from below toward the opponent’s ribs.
At the same time, Morris had already summoned himself a brand-new 9999N Chronos.
The Quad flickered, and the sword tip, upon contacting the clothes, instantly erupted with an ethereal flame tinged in gold and red. The blade tore through the garment and stabbed toward the skin.
Clang!
[I have dispelled 20,000N.]
A cold sweat broke out on Hubville’s Morris.
Good heavens, this is what high-level combat looks like!
F*CK!
A single moment of distraction—and it could mean a teammate’s death, or send the opponent off to some nightmarish place.
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