At the very moment the gunshot rang out, guests in the hall dropped to their knees with hands pressed to their heads; women screamed, and chaos erupted. After Zhang Yuanqing shouted “Exit the casino,” guests and women alike rushed toward the casino doors, fleeing from the scene of conflict. Zhang Yuanqing’s evacuation strategy proved highly effective. Indeed, they had arrived—and now there was a companion, the Night Wandering Deity! Qing Song and Seven Blades were struck with alarm. Both the Enchantment Demon and the Night Wandering Deity were peak-tier professionals. At the same level, setting aside props, individual combat prowess between ordinary and peak-tier professionals differed significantly. With three against two—though their numbers held an advantage—theirs was far from certain. Shen Le glanced at her teammates and calmly said: “Don’t worry. This is our home ground. The move I brought from my family will be sufficient to handle them.” On hearing this, Qing Song and Seven Blades relaxed, regaining confidence. At this moment, Zhang Yuanqing scanned the panicking crowd and turned his gaze toward the table by the window—immediately recognizing Wu Grandmaster with a birthmark on his cheek, as well as three Realm Walkers. To act swiftly—he adjusted his aim and targeted the Musician Skill. Among the three, the Musician Skill had the weakest physical condition, leaned more toward support roles, and could deliver effective spiritual attacks against spirit-based opponents—thus posing the greatest threat to the Night Wandering Deity. Just then, Zhang Yuanqing saw a woman, visibly frightened and half-naked, suddenly drawing a dagger from her skirt and charging at him with fierce determination. Hm? Though surprised, Zhang Yuanqing reacted quickly—delivering a swift overhead cut that knocked out his attacker. Yet more assailants emerged: one guest fleeing in panic drew his gun from his waist and fired directly at Zhang Yuanqing. A woman wearing a low-cut dress opened her folding knife, held it with both hands, and struck at Kou Beiyue. Even farther off, several guests wearing shirts picked up guns hidden beneath the gaming machines and unleashed a torrent of gunfire at two intruders. This sudden turn of events left Zhang Yuanqing and Kou Beiyue unprepared—forcing them to halt their advance toward the table and shift into defensive positions amid rising threats from the crowd. Kou Beiyue kicked one woman aside, then raised her military sword, knocking two bullets out of the air with a series of sharp strikes—they splashed against the wall and ceiling. Had they been hiding assassins within the guest crowd? Zhang Yuanqing crouched low to avoid bullet fire, readying himself to dispatch several ordinary attackers—only to find their expressions suddenly distorted and hostile, their gazes desperate, as if eager to peel them alive. Musician Skill? Zhang Yuanqing swiftly recalled the core ability of a Level 3 Musician Skill—hypnosis! The very skill that anchored a Level 3 Musician! They had hypnotized the casino guests, turning ordinary patrons into pawns—making it impossible for them to act decisively. If they resisted vigorously and killed any guests, both moral value would be deducted—of course, the Musician Skill would also suffer losses: killing one thousand enemies at the cost of eight hundred of their own. Zhang Yuanqing quickly grasped the depth of their strategy. As two adversaries were momentarily disrupted by pre-deployed tactics, Shen Le smiled with satisfaction and leaned slightly forward. Seven Blades, short and robust, grunted, then launched a fireball into the air—one that expanded rapidly as flames surged from his body. The hot fireball landed beside Zhang Yuanqing and instantly inflated; Seven Blades stepped out of the flame, delivering a powerful, long-armed jab with his right fist. On the other side, the young man with yellow hair, graceful yet refined, pressed his lips and blew a slow, soothing lullaby. The melody was gentle and melodic—like a mother softly humming—a deep sense of calm spread through listeners, inducing drowsiness and inner tranquility. Zhang Yuanqing and Kou Beiyue’s eyes widened slightly—they were half-asleep. The seamless coordination between the Level 3 Musician Skill and Level 3 Fire Master instantly placed Zhang Yuanqing in peril. A powerful straight punch struck Zhang Yuanqing’s chest—the body dissolved like a phantom. This was merely a phantom created by hypnosis—Seven Blades had been entranced as he leapt from the flame. Zhang Yuanqing’s true form appeared several meters away, holding his sword with one hand and pressing on his lower back to activate the Cat King Speaker’s first button. He was asserting control of the scene! Immediately, a deafening drumbeat poured out through the speaker, resonating throughout the hall—deep, resonant, authoritative—each beat echoing clearly. Shen Le’s lullaby instantly faded under this overwhelming pressure. Guests who had not managed to escape knelt and trembled on the ground—including hypnotized assassins—while Kou Beiyue and the three Realm Walkers felt a tightness in their chests, an inexplicable sense of fear and suffocation, as if they longed to flee. Zhang Yuanqing raised his gun toward Seven Blades, located several meters away, and pressed down on the trigger. Meanwhile, the young man with a broad face raised both palms and slammed them hard against his ears—shattering his eardrums—thus eliminating the oppressive drumming sound; the world instantly fell silent. He then seized a vine whip and swung it furiously at the enemy who had raised her gun. Crack! Crack! The whip struck the enemy’s arms, causing her gun to wobble—the bullets hit behind Seven Blades’ body, leaving two deep, splintered craters in the wall. With a flick of his wrist, the man caught the hanging chandelier and swung it gently—like an ape—sweeping toward Zhang Yuanqing. Seven Blades felt veins pulsing across his forehead, bracing against the discomfort from the drumming sound, then stepped forward with strength, spitting out fiery breath to form a long, glowing blade. Transforming fire into a weapon! The blade swept upward in a fluid motion—aimed directly at Zhang Yuanqing’s chest and abdomen, denying him time to draw his gun. Zhang Yuanqing sidestepped the blazing flame—the intense heat brushed past him, leaving a distinct scent of singed eyelashes and hair. “Crack!” He crossed his arms over his chest to block the flying kick from the broad-faced man, stumbles back slightly. At this moment, however, Kou Beiyue’s response was delayed—affected by both the lullaby and the drumming sound—and failed to join in support. Not exactly! With your skill level, how dare you claim you’re comparable to Li Xianzong? Li Xianzong is far superior! Zhang Yuanqing glanced at his teammate with a look of quiet exasperation in his eyes, silently muttering under his breath. At the table, Shen Le changed his hand gestures—mimicking a microphone—and covered his mouth to deliver an impromptu Bbox performance. A deep drumbeat emerged from his tightly pressed lips. Though he replicated the sound of the Cat King Speaker, it differed from the earlier impact—it carried a stirring, uplifting quality. Seven Blades and Qing Song’s breathing quickened—both flushed with excitement, their vitality noticeably heightened. Crack! Crack! Crack! The broad-faced man continued to whip at enemies—shattering tiles and breaking machines, forcing Zhang Yuanqing into constant, clumsy evasions. Meanwhile, Seven Blades relied on the fire master’s raw power, engaging in close-range combat, delivering a relentless barrage of fiery punches that kept the enemy unable to recover or counterattack. Together—one supporting, one fighting—the duo maintained firm control over the Level 3 Night Wandering Deity. Zhang Yuanqing exhaled deeply and endured another blow from the fire master—securing brief respite before he lifted his head and let out a long, resonant cry. A faint moonlight pierced through the building walls, casting a delicate layer of ethereal glow over him. Zhang Yuanqing’s pupils darkened, engulfing the whites of his eyes—the air around him now exuded an elegant, otherworldly aura. The Moon Cry! Then, Zhang Yuanqing reached back and pressed down on the second button of the Cat King Speaker. A piercing, high-pitched suona sound immediately resonated—urgent, strong, soaring in tone. Zhang Yuanqing’s body swelled dramatically—the muscles along his limbs bulged, veins bursting with tension. The combination of moonlight, the Moon Cry, and the suona elevated his presence to an intensely formidable level. “Crack!” A second punch from the fire master arrived—deliberate and ruthless—driving directly into Zhang Yuanqing’s temple; the flames erupted in a burst, seeping blood from his seven orifices—the very force capable of liquefying his brain matter. Zhang Yuanqing remained motionless—his lips cracked open to reveal a cruel smile. Seven Blades stood back with growing alarm. Zhang Yuanqing stepped forward quickly, closing the distance between them—and with his right hand forming a fist, gripped Seven Blades’ neck, propelling him several meters before pressing hard down. Crack! The impact crushed the tiles beneath Seven Blades’ back. Zhang Yuanqing then knelt beside him, straightened his spine, raised his fist high, and delivered a powerful downward blow. The deep thud of collision was accompanied by sharp sounds—cracking facial bones, nasal bones, and teeth—all at once—causing Seven Blades' legs to spasm violently. “Crack! Crack!” Qing Song’s face paled—he continued to whip the enemy with increasing force, cracking her clothes and opening deep wounds in her flesh. Yet these injuries healed rapidly within two seconds. At the table, Shen Le immediately changed his melody—recommencing a lullaby to soothe the enemy’s will. Suddenly, he noticed the originally hesitant youth now crouched low, holding his military sword, advancing steadily and swiftly—as if stalking prey—a true tiger in hunt mode. Shen Le halted mid-performance and rolled on the ground. Crack! The table was shattered by a powerful kick from the fierce Night Wandering Deity. Hearing the cracking sound behind him, Shen Le gasped—his heart racing—with his musician-level close combat skills, he now faced a peer-level Enchantment Demon—and within ten strikes, he knew it would be decisive. Crack! Crack! Crack… The steady rhythm of impact drew Shen Le’s attention—the fierce Night Wandering Deity repeatedly struck Seven Blades’ face, breaking the skull and spilling vivid red and white blood. Seven Blades' limbs convulsed—his body now heavily wounded. Was that it? Was a Level 3 Fire Master truly defeated in this manner? Shen Le’s expression turned grave—he was profoundly affected. Without hesitation, he pulled out the pendant from his chest—a deep blue gemstone with delicate electric serpents swirling within its core. With two fingers, he gently squeezed—causing the stone to explode. Now Kou Beiyue had moved around behind him, her military dagger precisely thrust into her back. Sizzling… The bright electric serpents danced through the air—the energy flickered against the blade and then onto Kou Beiyue’s body—making her suddenly rigid; her short hair stood upright in tufts. Shen Le instantly turned around, forming a lightning whip in his palm and swinging it with vigor. Red sigils flared up within Kou Beiyue’s pupils. Shen Le’s expression grew stunned. Kou Beiyue leapt forward—her body straightening—and plunged the dagger into her opponent’s chest. Just as the blade touched the enemy’s torso, Shen Le suddenly transformed into a brilliant flash of lightning—"cutting" through to land six meters away—his long whip arriving late but effective. Kou Beiyue managed to roll sideways and avoid the strike. Crack! The lightning whip split the ground with a crisp sound. Shen Le floated above, his hair standing upright at every root—the lightning path glowing along his forehead like a divine emblem—his aura now that of a thunder god descending. He calmly waved his whip, forcing Kou Beiyue to either roll or jump, maneuvering her in awkward, helpless ways—as if a trainer handling an unruly wild beast. “Hmph!” Shen Le said coldly: “A mere Level 3 Enchantment Demon—dared to intrude upon the heart of this sanctuary? Who gave you the courage?” The single-use prop he had just activated came from abroad—a specialized occupation with singular capabilities, yet one that could overwhelm other professionals through its devastating attack technique—Thunder! But its very strength was a limitation: once used, the Musician Skill it belonged to would no longer be usable. This piece of equipment was at the Sage Stage level—with a duration of fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes—a sufficient timeframe to eliminate two Level 3 Realm Walkers—or to wait for Chiji An’s arrival. Shen Le had originally cherished this prop, intending only to use it when absolutely necessary—yet this young man, with his own Level 3 Night Wandering Deity companion, had proven terrifyingly formidable—in less than three minutes of combat, he had already defeated Seven Blades. Now, turning toward Zhang Yuanqing, Shen Le declared solemnly—as though uttering the very words of a national decree: “You will also perish.” Kou Beiyue looked pale—though she had never witnessed such control over lightning and electric energy, the immense pressure and lethal power were undeniable—clear signs of Sage-level mastery. She had assumed that with her own Enchantment Demon skill and Yuan Ting’s Night Wandering Deity support, they would succeed in clearing out the Copper Roost without incident. But now, it seemed this was merely the beginning of a series of setbacks. Every effort ended in failure—how could she be so unlucky? Why has Heaven consistently favored the unfortunate? Kou Beiyue looked sharply at “Yuan Ting”—the Night Wandering Deity from Taiyi Gate—to ask with her eyes whether he wished to retreat—and was stunned to find that this very Night Wandering Deity remained composed, utterly calm. “Ah—now it’s time to deploy the final move!” Zhang Yuanqing pushed aside a fallen body at his feet—with dark, ink-black eyes—he said softly: “That gives me full confidence to fully unleash my power.” “And you?” Shen Le floated above him, smiling with disdain. Zhang Yuanqing didn’t heed their glances. With steady focus, he bit into the willow blade, donned the warrior’s gloves, pulled out his black-framed glasses, produced the Artifact and the artifact of the straw figure, summoned the Divine Object—the red dance shoes—before finally, in the stunned gaze of the three, unrolled a black robe embroidered with blazing flames and rippling waves. How richly endowed is this man! Is this a mobile treasure vault? Kou Beiyue stood dumbfounded. Sei-Son and Shenle both felt their patience fray—each had a rising urge to curse aloud. “One minute to defeat you, and that’s sufficient!” Zhang Yuanqing tossed his yin-yang robe into the air. The robe unfurled in midair, its back-mounted Taiyi fish slowly rotating, gently swirling out translucent streams of water that burst forth with vivid flames—water and fire balancing each other perfectly, forming a massive grinding disk spanning thirty meters across. And Zhang Yuanqing himself vanished from sight. “Huff-huff…” Kou Beiyue’s position had been unfortunate—he was squarely within the scope of the flame array. His sleeves flared into roaring embers. He gritted his teeth, brushing the flames away; his skin quickly reddened, bubbles forming beneath. The Wood Demon’s form still endured such torment—how much more would the frailly constructed Sei-Son endure? In the intense blaze, he rolled and writhed desperately, trying to break through the windows to flee. Whoosh! An invisible wall of energy rose in his path. Could he not escape? Shenle raised an eyebrow—her confidence dimmed—but remained composed. This one-time Artifact gave her sufficient assurance: as long as she held on for fifteen minutes, even if crimson moon arrived, she would still prevail. “A mere flourish,” said Shenle, looking down upon the water-fire formation with a coolness that belied her initial impatience. “Whether it’s merely a flourish—you’ll find out shortly.” Within the shimmering stream of water, a figure emerged—formed from liquid, holding one spear and one sword, wearing the black-framed glasses. “The young man is so bold,” said Shenle, her tone now sharp with irritation. “I’m furious!” Meanwhile, within the flames, another form slowly materialized—a fiery silhouette, clad in gloves, wielding both the Artifact and the straw figure. The water-born figure ignored the fire-born one, gently lifting her hands as if holding up a plate. The flowing stream of water enveloped all who had not yet escaped—the guests, including Wu-Ye—carrying them into the water array. Compared to the fierce heat of the flame formation, the water’s touch was more gentle. The shimmering flow did not suffocate, allowing ordinary people to survive. Within the fire array, however, those inside would be reduced to charcoal within moments. Once the water-born figure completed this maneuver, the fire-born one immediately showcased the straw figure—her rough and awkward puppet having its face transformed into Shenle’s own visage. With two fingers of her fiery form, she gripped the head of the figure and pressed hard. Shenle screamed as a dark mist swathed over her face—the intensity of rage and madness flooding her eyes; her rational faculties dissolved, reduced to a wild, instinct-driven beast charging directly toward the fire-born figure. The water-born figure, using the Insight Eye artifact, anticipated her trajectory and pressed her trigger. Clunk—clunk! The bullets missed. Driven solely by instinct, Shenle surged forward like lightning, dodging the ones behind while striking the fiery form with electrifying bolts. The fire-form’s silhouette brought both hands to press against each other in a firm meeting. Boom! Her body was shattered by the lightning strike—dissolving into brilliant flares of light. Shenle faced the explosion directly—the very essence of a Musician Skill. The lightning did not strengthen her, and she collapsed under severe injury on impact. “Clunk…clunk…” The water-born figure opened fire again, maintaining a steady stream of shots. Zzzz… Shenle’s form began to shimmer with electricity—yet the bullets still missed as they passed through. This was speed Zhang Yuanqing had never witnessed—the target disoriented and losing clarity, yet even so, he managed to deflect two consecutive attacks with sheer instinct alone. The red dance shoes pursued the young man with a horse-faced visage, now delivering relentless, brutal stomps—each step adding to the already severe injuries of Sei-Son. The once high-pitched cries now faded into weak, fragmented sounds as he clung to life through the strength of his Wood Demon’s resilience. “Hey! Dog-son Kou Beiyue,” said the fire-born figure, re-forming with renewed urgency, “Is there any way you can deliver a serious blow to this one?” Before Kou Beiyue could respond, she snapped impatiently: “You’re just talking—what’s your actual strategy? This speed… it simply won’t let him down in one minute!” Kou Beiyue replied firmly: “I need his blood.” “That’s easy!” The water-born figure stepped forward and tapped her foot. The Taiyi fish on the back of the yin-yang robe turned, causing the water-fire formation to shift—layer upon layer of flowing streams surged upward, encircling Shenle. Water had no form but substance—within the array, escape was impossible, regardless of how fast one moved. With a swift gesture, she drew a stream of water over Shenle’s body, carrying away the blood scorched by flame. Under the water-born figure’s guidance, the blood cascaded toward Kou Beiyue. Kou Beiyue extended his palm to catch it, then reached into his inventory and pulled forth a bronze statue—its face fierce, wielding a short blade. He brushed the spilled blood onto its surface and laid it down on the floor before kneeling deeply and bowing in reverence. The eyes of the bronze statue ignited with crimson light—the miniature blade plunged downward and cleaved through the body. Suddenly, Shenle cried out—a burst of blood mist erupted from her chest, revealing a deep wound that reached bone—an utterly devastating injury. This single strike rendered her incapacitated. Capitalizing on this moment, the water-born figure fired again—each bullet striking with precision, forming large holes throughout her body. Shenle’s form collapsed completely—the lightning sigil at her brow extinguished. She was dead. Turning to the fire-formed figure, the water-born one said coldly: “Dolt! Don’t just watch—this Wood Demon hasn’t yet been defeated.” “Oh yes!” The fire-born figure immediately realized and summoned her magnificent flame blade, stepping forward with resolve—and severed the horse-faced youth’s head. The neck wound scorched black, with no drop of blood flowing. Both figures now dissipated—the shimmering water returning to the robe and the radiant flames fading back into it. Zhang Yuanqing reappeared, catching his robe, then returned each of the props—except for the red dance shoes—to his inventory. “Resolved… solved.” Kou Beiyue, now covered in burns, stood still, staring at Zhang Yuanqing with wide eyes. How strong! How astonishingly strong! Who is this young man? A descendant of which elder of Taiyi Gate? A common Realm Walker—could he possibly be so richly endowed with such grand resources and equipment? “Don’t waste time,” Zhang Yuanqing said, slowly exhaling a stream of air—the pent-up anger simmering in his chest finally beginning to subside. “Bring Wu-Ye here.” “And you?” Kou Beiyue asked. “No more talk!” Zhang Yuanqing shot him a sharp look. I don’t have time—I’ve been stuck doing the awkward dance… he thought with quiet self-mockery. “Very well, very well…” Kou Beiyue scanned over the unconscious guests and located Wu-Ye. He strode forward. Just then, one by one, waves of flame surged from outside—the glass windows shattered under impact—and exploded into a radiant figure—dressed in a white suit. Cui Yue An has arrived! Zhang Yuanqing and Kou Beiyue’s faces darkened—both eyes blazing with intent and fury.