Seven o'clock in the evening. At the dining table. Grandmother surveyed the family gathered around the table, her mood quite cheerful, and declared with a smile: "Yuanzi, your uncle will be back tomorrow afternoon. Yuanjun, remember to drive out and pick him up. Yubi, come home early after work." Yubi was the given name of Aunt Jiang. Zhang Yuanqing and Jiang Yubi each bit into a chicken leg while Chen Yuanjun sipped his soup—everyone looked utterly composed. Noticing this, Grandmother snapped her chopsticks, eyes narrowing: "Did you all hear me?" "Oh," said one. "Uh," said another. "I know," replied the third. Grandmother: "..." Uncle and Aunt had been on an overseas trip for nearly two months. Uncle had abandoned his duties, living a carefree life; Aunt had never touched anything beyond the kitchen. At home with them or without them—the difference was hardly noticeable. Their return wasn’t exactly a cause for celebration. Probably only Grandmother would be genuinely happy about it. Jiang Yubi took a bite of her chicken leg and remarked: "So, why doesn't this family outcast stay any longer? With both of them gone, the house feels especially peaceful." Chen Yuanjun glanced at his sister-in-law and said: "Don’t say that—after all, the family outcast is still my father." Zhang Yuanqing looked at his uncle and added: "Don’t call me a family outcast. After all, the outcast is really my uncle." Seeing Grandmother grow angry and rising to tear into the young relatives, Jiang Yubi quickly stepped in to soothe her and introduced a topic that would surely interest Mother: "Mom, our hospital has been experiencing ghostly phenomena." Ghostly phenomena? Zhang Yuanqing immediately sat up straighter. Grandmother truly seemed to have abandoned her son entirely and hurried to ask: "Oh? What kind of ghosts? It’s all very well—what exactly happened?" "It's Miss Zhou from our department. While on night duty, she heard children’s laughter in the office. When she went inside, the sound disappeared. Then she went to the restroom and saw a baby resting right against her shoulder—so close it almost knocked her out." Aunt Jiang spoke with conviction: "It’s not just Miss Zhou. Other night-shift staff have also reported hearing children's laughter from time to time. Everyone believes it’s the spirits of children who passed away, lingering in the hospital, unwilling to go." Grandmother listened intently and commented: "What a strange occurrence—I think that makes sense. I’ll wait until you’re on night duty; then let Yuanzi join you. Is there more?" "Yes! There's plenty!" Grandmother’s gossip had never reached Mother—it was all now being taken over by Aunt Jiang… Zhang Yuanqing, listening to the mother-daughter chatter, found his growing interest slowly fading. As a Night Wandering Deity, he immediately recognized this as mere urban legend—not a genuine phenomenon. Firstly, spiritual beings cannot produce sound because they lack physical form and no vocal cords. Unless their energy directly impacts human consciousness. Yet even with strong infant-level spirit intensity, the spirits of deceased children are unlikely to remain after death. Finally, ordinary people have limited vision—most cannot see such spirits at all. Only those nearing the end of life or burdened by heavy negative energies might interact with them. Thus, occasional sightings are reasonable. But so many staff members hearing infant laughter? That simply didn’t hold water. "Aunt Jiang," Zhang Yuanqing said quietly, "be careful—not to bring any deceased infants home." Just as Jiang Yubi was getting into the flow of conversation, her oval face stiffened instantly and she exclaimed: "Mom! He scared me again!" Grandmother gave her grandson a symbolic scalp-treatment. … After dinner, Zhang Yuanqing quietly left the house, taking a taxi to the nearest tertiary hospital. He intended to conduct spirit rituals there—to enhance his experience points. The Night Wandering Deity's skill of "Siphoning Spirits" is currently the most effective method for level advancement. The next activation of the Spirit Realm was uncertain—preparing now before entering it would be highly beneficial. At the same level, a difference between 99% and 1% in experience points translates to a world apart in combat effectiveness. Hospitals are ideal venues for Night Wandering Deities to accumulate experience. Births, illnesses, deaths—all occur here. Though crematoriums also work well—currently, all cremation facilities in Songhai are located in the suburbs, with few within the city center. Sitting in the taxi, Zhang Yuanqing suddenly recalled what Guan Ya had said today: "Why do the Night Wandering Deities of Taiyi Gate particularly avoid consuming spirit entities? Is it a professional rule—considered detrimental to their spiritual merit—or is there another reason?" With this thought, he pulled out his smartphone and logged into the official forum for Realm Walkers. The search results: No relevant entries found. … In the suburbs, as night begins to settle in. In a budget rental apartment within an industrial park, the living room was cluttered. Ou Xiangrong, holding a freshly boiled noodle pot, walked over to a table piled high with beer cans. He casually swept aside the cans and other items—sending them "clinking" off the floor—and cleared space to make room for his large bowl. Then he pulled out a chilled beer from the refrigerator. He ate his noodles heartily and drank his beer generously. The noodles were scalding hot, yet could not burn his resilient oral cells. Ou Xiangrong’s sparse eyebrows revealed a range of expressions—sometimes fierce, sometimes cold, sometimes resentful—like someone on the brink of mental breakdown. Suddenly, he sensed movement in his ears. He paused with his chopsticks and his expression instantly hardened. He rose slowly, drawing out his dagger from its sheath at his back, stepping silently toward the door. "Clang!" As he approached the entryway, the front door was violently kicked open—and a bright beam of light flared to life, hurling a blazing fire ball straight at him. The hot wind surged over him. Ou Xiangrong halted mid-step, swung his right arm with the dagger, and sliced through the fire ball—crashing it into an explosion of brilliant flame within the room. Amidst this sudden glow, a figure engulfed in flames burst into the apartment, leaping with powerful momentum, then collided with Ou Xiangrong’s chest. Ou Xiangrong was even more fierce—he shifted his body slightly and drove his shoulder forward. "Boom!" The figure flew backward, slamming against the hallway wall—causing it to shake violently. With burns spreading across his right arm and shoulder, Ou Xiangrong still managed to turn and rush toward the window. He refused to walk down the narrow corridor of the old apartment building—he knew that once surrounded, he would surely be crushed. As glass shattered, Ou Xiangrong leapt out from the third floor. "Crash! Crash!" Just as the window broke, two shots rang out. Ou Xiangrong deflected one aimed at his head with the edge of his dagger—but could not stop the bullet aimed at his chest. The powerful kinetic energy of the bullet pierced through his skin and was held back by strong muscle fibers. Following the sound of gunfire, a tall mixed-race woman stood in the shadow of the green belt—wearing an elegant office-style suit with a white blouse, her hair flowing gently in the wind. She exuded cool sophistication. She held silver handguns in each hand and had two gun holsters strapped to her long legs. "Click-click-click…" The woman shot steadily and precisely—their accuracy appeared to anticipate his descent path. After several hits, Ou Xiangrong finally came to rest on the ground. He suddenly turned his gaze toward the mixed-race woman—two crimson sigils shimmered in his eyes. Then, her expression grew dull as she slowly raised her gun, aiming it at her own brow. "Bang!" The bullet burst from the barrel—but failed to pierce the smooth surface of her forehead; a pair of rough hands blocked its trajectory. By now, a man wearing a miner's hat had appeared beside her—dark complexion, solemn demeanor. "Gathering Demon?" he asked. "A 3rd-level Enchantment Demon." In the dark, a man in a cane walked up—dressed in black business attire with a black vest and white shirt, his hair neatly combed. "Have the others stationed outside the community. Don't let them come near this area." Another voice came—the man stepped out from the hallway wearing black leather clothing, slender yet strong, radiating authority. Ou Xiangrong held his dagger, face grim, scanning the surroundings. "Hum-hum…." At that moment, a distant roar of motorbike engines drew attention. A bright beam cut through the night sky—a motorcycle surged forward with a powerful roar, carrying a woman in white racing attire, crouched slightly over her seat, holding a three-foot-long black long knife—she charged ahead. Then gunfire erupted again—blocking Ou Xiangrong’s retreat path. The flame-bodied figure leapt from the window to intercept from the side. The man wearing the miner's hat, Tang Guoqiang, placed both hands firmly on the ground—the cement cracked beneath them—and with two hands formed of solid earth, gripped tightly at Ou Xiangrong’s feet. Ou Xiangrong calmly wove his dagger, deflecting bullets that struck at oblique angles—where blade met bullet, sparks erupted. Then, muscles in his legs expanded, shattering the earth-formed hands—before rolling forward to avoid the figure descending from the third floor. With a series of strong strides after the roll—he began to sprint toward the woman on the motorcycle. In the night setting, they passed by each other—the sharp edge of Ou Xiangrong’s dagger sliced cleanly through her torso—but no solid impact was felt. At that moment, as the blade passed over her body, she turned into water. His long knife brushed past his chest—cutting him deeply. Ou Xiangrong's chest split open, and large streams of blood erupted. Unmindful of the wounds, he continued to move steadily toward the outer area of the community. At that moment, a woman in a qipao emerged from a window on the second floor. She stood barefoot—white as snow—moving across the walls with effortless grace. She leaped forward and landed precisely before Ou Xiangrong, shouting loudly, then spun around, her long legs sweeping powerfully like whips—striking hard against him. Ou Xiangrong was launched like a projectile, crashing into the wall of the apartment building—and gradually collapsed to the ground. "Dauntless," she said with composure. "To strike an official Realm Walker within my jurisdiction—you have done well." At this moment, Li Dongze—having watched the entire scene from afar—walked slowly forward, his expression serious and composed, like a master behind the scenes. He said calmly: "I shall personally escort you to your final journey." "Ah…" A deep sigh echoed around the space. Ou Xiangrong rose slowly, his eyes blazing red with fury and wildness—an immense evil force stirred within him. He spoke in a hoarse voice: "All of you must die." Li Dongze stepped back two paces silently—"My colleagues, that was just a friendly gesture—far from me claiming all the credit." … In the taxi, Zhang Yuanqing could not find any relevant information on the forum. Returning to the homepage, he instinctively refreshed the page. Then, a post stood out—highlighted and at the top. #Arrest Notice! A 3rd-Level Enchantment Demon: Ou Xiangrong# This post had not existed just a few minutes ago. Zhang Yuanqing clicked on it: ["Ou Xiangrong, a 3rd-level Enchantment Demon. On April 18th, he killed Zhao Yingjun, an envoy of the Five Elements Alliance’s White Tiger Army. On April 19th at 19:05, during a pursuit by the Kangyang District Spirit Realm Team, he escaped."] ["This individual possesses a terrifying and unusual evil power—beyond ordinary Enchantment Demons—and has already been significantly injured by the Kangyang District Spirit Realm team. His current whereabouts are unknown. All Spirit Realm Teams across regions should be alert: Ou Xiangrong is nearing collapse. Upon spotting any target, immediate action must be taken to eliminate him."] ["Those who provide leads will receive a reward of fifty thousand yuan. Those who successfully defeat him will receive ten thousand yuan."] The post had been published less than three minutes ago—the comments beneath it had already surpassed one hundred. They were all complaining about the inefficiency of the Kangyang District Spirit Realm team—how they allowed such an unstable, nearly-mad Enchantment Demon to escape unattended. "Are we out of our minds? This critical figure is always on the verge of collapse. Are the teams in Kangyang simply eating their salaries?" "If he loses control and begins killing people, when we arrive—the scene will likely be bloodied beyond recognition. We’ll be mocked nationwide—mocked for failing to manage our responsibilities despite having high salaries." "Complete nonsense!" Ou Xiangrong had escaped? How quickly did the team of chiefs locate him and initiate pursuit? Zhang Yuanqing now found himself unsure whether to commend the efficiency of the chief officers or to criticize them—for having allowed this very real, ticking time bomb to slip through. "With the engagement underway, Ou Xiangrong’s blood and bodily remains will surely remain at the scene. I believe we can locate him using my red dancing shoes—my rule-type prop." Zhang Yuanqing immediately recalled his own rule-type prop.