Crack! Crack! Crack! Zhang Yuanqing delivered a series of powerful kicks, one after another, striking the young man’s face. Each kick sent him staggering backward, and though he tried to organize resistance several times, each effort was immediately interrupted by Zhang's fierce attacks. Yet despite this unrelenting barrage, the official pilgrim remained untouched—only feeling superficial pain, gritting his teeth in discomfort. This was an exceptionally resilient earth oddity. Meanwhile, the middle-aged man finished informing his companions and promptly folded up his Walkie-Talkie, donning a deep brown mask crafted to resemble tree bark. Puff… Puff… Puff… From a distance of over ten meters, he exhaled continuously toward the two engaged in combat. Fine, sharp wooden spines emitted barely perceptible "shush-shush" sounds as they silently shot into the adversaries. This tree-bark mask was a prop belonging to a wood demon specialist. When worn, the wearer could exhale to project fine wooden spikes—though not particularly damaging in terms of physical force, each spike carried biological toxins that induced numbness, pain, and difficulty breathing. The number of projected spikes had no upper limit; as long as the user maintained sufficient lung capacity, they could sustain this action indefinitely, offering excellent value for performance. Zhang Yuanqing, wearing the artifact known as "Insight of the Observer," sensed the initial assault on his person before it even reached him. He swiftly planted one foot into the earth demon’s chest and used that impetus to pivot laterally, rolling with remarkable agility—dodging the incoming wooden spines. The young man, however, fared less well—he was instantly covered by a dense cluster of spikes, which formed subtle yellowish ripples across his body. Though these spikes failed to penetrate the earth oddity’s defenses, their cumulative effect was significant. At this moment, Zhang Yuanqing’s gaze pierced through the reinforced concrete walls and caught sight of three powerful pilgrims approaching the main entrance. Simultaneously, the official pilgrim stationed at the rear end of the building began circumnavigating the night club and making his way toward them as well. It was enough—Zhang Yuanqing no longer hesitated. He leapt into the air and charged full-speed across the street toward the opposite side. "Want to escape?" The middle-aged man responded, directing a continuous stream of wooden spines that sealed off Zhang's path. With agile movements reminiscent of a monkey, he surged forward with an attack aimed at the young man’s back. Bracing his palms together like blades, his skin rapidly turned into tree-rings. His hands and fingers transformed into sharp wooden projections, penetrating precisely into the enemy’s spine. This was a level-three wood demon—ranked as a captain-level expert. As Zhang Yuanqing dashed forward, he suddenly halted mid-stride. Twisting his waist with precision, he drove a straight punch back, like a counterattack from behind. The middle-aged man raised his left arm, allowing the skin to develop intricate patterns of wood, transforming it into something as solid and rigid as iron. "Thump…" Zhang’s palm-driven wooden blade swept past the man’s side, slicing through his clothing. His own fist struck against the uplifted arm, producing a deep, resonant thud. Ding… Ding… Ding… The middle-aged man stepped backward in succession, his arm cracking with audible sounds—blood seeped steadily from the fissures that formed across it. Had he grown stronger? His face changed color slightly. He had previously encountered this enchantment demon at a high level, and expected his combat effectiveness to decline after being injured by the organization’s representatives. Yet now, the demonstration of enhanced strength seemed entirely unexpected. Ah—enchantment demons grow more aggressive upon witnessing bloodshed. The man in question had indeed slain someone during the night club incident. So perhaps he was not as weak as I thought… No—he must be stronger than expected. I am now at level three. Moreover, it is nighttime—the peak of the Night Wandering Deity’s powers. If only I weren’t afraid to reveal my identity and use my Moon-Song cry, I believe I could secure a decisive victory within ten strikes. Ding… Ding! Zhang Yuanqing took two swift strides, pressing his feet firmly into the ground with force that surged upward from his tightened legs—passing through his shoulders and neck before finally flowing out along his arms. Crack! A second straight punch landed with crisp clarity, sending a clear resonant sound. The middle-aged man hesitated, lowering his center of gravity and then shifting slightly to the left—miraculously avoiding the fist that would have shattered his forehead. Immediately afterward, he snapped his waist, leaping backward while simultaneously exhaling two sharp bursts of wooden spikes. Zhang Yuanqing allowed the spikes to embed into his chest and then stepped forward with a hook punch rising from beneath. Thump! The man’s body arched like a shrimp under pressure, his eyes bulging outward—filled with blood vessels. At that very moment, three official pilgrims burst through the scene. The leading figure wore a white suit, combed back with a neat, broad hairstyle, his broad shoulders and strong frame exuding commanding presence. He took two decisive steps and assumed the posture of a javelin thrower. Shush… Shush… Flames surged from his palm, coalescing into a blazing spear that glowed intensely. He shouted loudly and hurled the spear forward with strength. As the spear shot out like lightning, the middle-aged man struck one finger sharply, attempting to summon fire as a medium—aiming to close the gap between himself and Zhang Yuanqing. Zhang Yuanqing reached upward into the air, grasping an item that appeared—a dark-blue robe adorned with celestial yin-yang symbols on its back, embroidered in silver lines at the top and flames at the bottom. "Flap! Flap!" The robe unfurled automatically and draped over his shoulders. Staring at the surging spear heading toward him, Zhang Yuanqing extended his palms and suddenly clenched them tightly together. Snap! A nearby fire hydrant exploded—powerful streams of water surged forth like a snow lion or a white dragon, dousing the flame spear instantly. The flames on the white-suited man flickered and then vanished entirely as soon as they touched the damp stream. He did not immediately pursue pursuit but instead gave a thoughtful "Hmm," observing the now-adorned young man in his robust robe. This experienced official pilgrim sensed something amiss—an inconsistency—right away. Though this young man was clearly an enchantment demon, how had he acquired control over water? And where did that robe come from—the very prop which had never been utilized before? Where had his sword gone? A cascade of questions poured into his mind, deepening the sense of dissonance. At precisely that moment, he saw the proud young man who had previously attempted to assassinate him. With a cold smile, he raised one finger downward and declared: "Die, the Bull-Man!" Then turned and began running immediately. The white-suited official’s temples bulged with veins, his face darkening in intensity—until finally, a surge of fury erupted from his crown like an eruption. He pursued relentlessly without hesitation, as though losing all sense of reason. His five subordinates promptly followed him, chasing after the young man's retreating form, growing steadily more distant. Just seconds after they had departed, a young man with pale complexion and sharp eyes emerged cautiously from within the night club. He carefully scanned both sides at the entrance, confirmed safety, then swiftly vanished into the darkness. … Kou Beiyue chose narrow, dim pathways to move through—never pausing—until he felt his wounds begin to ache and his breath grow irregular. Only then did he sit down on a nearby bench, breathing heavily, his pores expanding like valves opening wide, sweat pouring out in abundance. "Far enough now…" Breathing the slightly humid air of the night, he paused momentarily before striking one fist into the ground with force—then shouting repeatedly: "Unbelievable! Unbelievable! Unbelievable! Unbelievable!" Kou Beiyue continued pounding on the pavement until cracks began to form beneath his hands and his fists became bloodied and blurred. Only then did he take a deep breath, calming himself. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his Smartphone—prepared to call Xiao Yuan and inform her that he was safe, no need for concern. He lit up the screen—only to find an unfamiliar number had sent a message half an hour ago: "Escape!" The message arrived before he even left the night club. "Ring…" He dialed Xiao Yuan’s number. As soon as the call connected, she responded in a cold tone: “Kou Beiyue?” “Yes—it's me…” Kou Beiyue lowered his voice subconsciously—like a child who had made a mistake. Then he heard a soft exhalation sound from within the line—a gentle puff of air, like a well-inflated ball finally deflating at that moment. Just as he thought she might launch into an angry scolding, the sound coming through the speaker was instead… "Where is he? Where's the one who rescued you?" "I don’t know. After he drew away those official pilgrims, I escaped," Kou Beiyue answered honestly. "You’re truly hopeless!" Xiao Yuan chuckled coldly—her tone tinged with frustration—"Next time, don't call me when you're about to die—just quietly perish and don’t burden anyone else." Kou Beiyue hung his head dejectedly. "I'll go find him right now," he said firmly, trying to regain composure. "No need—you’ve already arrived." Kou Beiyue suddenly turned around—and there, a few meters behind, emerged the silhouette of a young man. A seemingly ordinary individual—quiet in demeanor, wearing black-framed glasses—familiarly evoking images of "a tech-savvy person," "an introvert," or "someone reserved." Was he Xiao Yuan’s friend? The one who had just rescued him? The thought just occurred to Kou Beiyue as the sound of Xiao Yuan’s voice came through, relieved: “Hand over your phone.” Kou Beiyue tossed the Smartphone toward him. Zhang Yuanqing caught it, raised it to his ear and smiled warmly: "I'm fine—no injuries. My identity remains unexposed." On the other end, silence lasted for several moments before Xiao Yuan softly said: "Thank you." Then she added: “I’ve agreed to join your organization.” Zhang Yuanqing offered a smile, feigning modesty: "Oh, don’t say that! It feels more like a transaction. I’m willing to assist because of the charm of Ms. Xiao Yuan—after all, we’re all friends, aren't we?" Ah yes—Xiao Yuan, you will now be one of mine. Xiao Yuan took a deep breath: "Thank you—for this favor, I’ll certainly repay it." Zhang Yuanqing glanced at the proud young man and said: “Well—I’ve got other matters to discuss with him. Let’s not linger.” He hung up the phone, approached the boy, returned his smartphone, then asked: "What's your name?" As he handed over the device, he glanced casually at the face reflected in the screen. This time, Zhang Yuanqing had transformed himself—not into Wang Tai, but instead drawing inspiration from online images of "tech-savvy individuals," "introverted types," and others—using a transformation ring item that allowed him to become anyone he desired. He no longer confined his efforts solely to Wang Tai. "Kou Beiyue!" the proud young man said, observing the older man before him, also asking: “Are you the Night Wandering Deity? From Taiyi Gate? How did you meet Xiao Yuan?” Kou Beiyue’s experience was substantial—he had become a level-three enchantment demon and trained under Master Wuhen. Simply by witnessing Zhang's appearance, he deduced that this man was a night-wandering deity. Upon realizing he had not yet thanked him, he promptly added: "Thank you—thank you for saving me. I’ll repay this kindness." You seem deeply concerned about how we met—perhaps you're his son? Zhang Yuanqing responded calmly: "My rescue of you has nothing to do with your personal connection. Xiao Yuan will naturally repay that favor. Now, why did you undertake the assassination of an official from the Five Elements Alliance?" Kou Beiyue’s eyebrows furrowed. Zhang Yuanqing continued: “Given that you know me as a Night Wandering Deity, you should understand that Taiyi Gate and the Five Elements Alliance are deeply interconnected allies. By killing an official from the organization, you have committed a capital offense. Though I spared your life out of goodwill for Xiao Yuan, I now require a legitimate explanation.” Kou Beiyue remained silent for some time—seeming to recall memories he had long suppressed—with his jaw clenched. "Because he killed my sister." "My hometown is in the rural area of Jinshan City. I dropped out of high school early—frequently involved in fights, leading to dismissal from school. My sister was more successful—she attended university at Songhai and stayed there after graduation. Last year, my parents felt that I wasn’t contributing much at home, so they asked me to come to Songhai to live with her and seek meaningful employment. Everything seemed stable until one day—I found out my sister had gone missing. I went to her workplace—my colleagues said she had already resigned—to start a business with an old colleague from Jinshan City. But she never informed me of this at all. The next morning, when she hadn’t returned, I immediately reported it to the local authority and notified my family. For nearly one full month afterward, there was no trace of her—I lost my job and spent days visiting the municipal office—only to hear over and over again that I should simply wait at home for updates. Then, on a particular day more than a month later, she returned…" At this point, Kou Beiyue’s eyes shimmered with deep-seated resentment: "She was covered in injuries, extremely exhausted. Her mental state had deteriorated significantly. I noticed she wore slippers—she must have escaped from somewhere. Upon returning home, she immediately began packing her belongings and kept repeating, 'Hurry up! Hurry up!' I asked her what had happened during this time—and where exactly she'd gone. She refused to answer, only repeating the phrase: 'Hurry up!' I couldn’t hold back my frustration—so I raised my voice demanding answers, and at that moment, she froze—dropped to her knees, covering her head, pleading not to be hurt. It’s hard to imagine what kind of suffering she endured over those past months." Even now, after more than two years, the pain and anger reflected in Kou Beiyue's eyes remain vivid and profound. Zhang Yuanqing listened attentively—his expression gradually becoming composed and thoughtful. “Then what happened?” he asked. “We hadn’t even left when that beast came charging after us—yes, the very organization member you just fought a moment ago. In front of my eyes, he knocked out my sister. I can still remember the words he spat out as he killed her—he said: ‘You scrawny bitch! You dares to run? I’m not done yet—you’re already running?’” Kou Bei Yue chuckled, cracking a smile and showing bright white teeth. “After that, I was also killed—but I didn’t die. The Spirit Realm granted me a Character Card, which allowed me to be reborn with a second life. Perhaps the Spirit Realm feels that there’s so much evil in this world, it needs to act violently, to confront evil with even greater evil.” That didn’t make sense at all. With the organization’s standing, what kind of woman couldn’t they find? Whether ordinary women or female Pilgrims—there were always plenty available if the organization chose to. Why treat a commoner so harshly? Unless there was some special obsession—or something hidden behind it. Hmm. If Kou Bei Yue’s story is true, then I cannot simply ignore this incident anymore. Zhang Yuanqing furrowed his brows quietly and asked, “Then how did you end up joining the team of Master Wu Xian?” “Because I’m afraid to kill people. Every time I see someone pleading for their life—someone trembling with fear—I think back to my sister’s final moments. If I, too, become consumed by violence and show my claws against the weak, wouldn’t that be no different from that beast who killed her?” Kou Bei Yue’s expression was full of pain. You’re quite principled—that makes sense. Someone who can earn the respect of Master Wu Xian must surely be a rare kind of person within the Evil Organization. Zhang Yuanqing was about to offer his approval when suddenly, a cheerful voice came from beside them: “Exactly! Standing up for the vulnerable—what’s the difference between that and being a beast? The essence of violence is not just destruction—it’s a method of purging this corrupt world through swift, efficient means.” Zhang Yuanqing and Kou Bei Yue both turned around in surprise. There, under the warm glow of the orange streetlights, stood a young man wearing a sports headband, arms folded, smiling brightly at them.