Realm Walker

The instant the gunshot rang out, every patron in the hall ducked and covered their heads. Women screamed, and the entire floor descended into chaos.

Once Zhang Yuanqing shouted for everyone to leave the casino, the panicked guests and hostesses charged toward the entrance without a second thought, desperate to flee the impending carnage.

His crowd-clearing tactic had worked beautifully.

Qingsong and Seven Blades tensed up. So he really came, and he brought a Nocturnal Specter with him!

Both the Enchanting Demon and Nocturnal Specter were apex combat classes. Setting items aside and comparing raw individual fighting power alone, the gap between ordinary classes and peak classes was enormous.

It was three against two. They had the numbers, but not the advantage.

Shenle glanced at his teammates and said in a cool, detached tone, ”Relax. This is our home turf. I brought a trump card provided to me by my family. It’ll be more than enough to deal with them.”

At his words, Qingsong and Seven Blades visibly relaxed, their confidence restored.

Zhang Yuanqing’s gaze swept past the stampeding crowd toward the gambling table by the window. He spotted Master Wu instantly, seated alongside the three Spirit Realm Walkers. The mole on his cheek was unmistakable.

I have to take them out as fast as possible. He swung his pistol toward the Musician.

Of the three, the Musician had the weakest physical constitution. He leaned toward support, yet possessed the ability to launch devastating psychic attacks against spiritual entities, making him the greatest threat to a Nocturnal Specter.

Just then, Zhang Yuanqing noticed a half-naked woman, her face twisted with terror, suddenly rip a dagger from beneath her skirt and lunge at him with murderous intent.

Hm? Surprised but not slowed down by it, he delivered a knife-hand strike to the back of her neck, knocking her unconscious.

However, more attackers emerged. A fleeing patron wrenched a handgun from his waistband, aimed the muzzle at Zhang Yuanqing, and squeezed the trigger. A woman in a low-cut evening gown flicked open a folding knife and charged at Kou Beiyue with both hands on the grip. Further back, several men in dress shirts grabbed shotguns hidden beneath the slot machines and unleashed a hail of buckshot at the two intruders without a word.

The sudden onslaught caught Zhang Yuanqing and Kou Beiyue completely off-guard. They had no choice but to abandon their advance toward the gambling table and dodge the threats erupting from within the crowd.

Kou Beiyue kicked the knife-wielding woman away, then whipped his military bayonet through the air, deflecting two bullets with sharp metallic clangs. Sparks flew as the rounds embedded themselves in the wall and ceiling.

Did they plant assassins among the patrons? Zhang Yuanqing wondered anxiously as he dropped low and dove sideways, evading the gunfire. He was about to shoot the ordinary attackers when he noticed something wrong with their expressions.

Those contorted faces, full of hatred, those eyes that screamed they wanted to skin him and Kou Beiyue alive, it was all deeply unnatural...

The Musician? His mind raced through the Musician class’s known abilities and locked onto one skill.

Hypnosis! A Level 3 Musician’s core technique!

They’ve hypnotized the casino patrons! he realized, quickly dissecting the viciousness behind their strategy. They’re using ordinary people as human shields, forcing us to hold back and take hits. And if we fight back too aggressively and kill the civilians, we’ll lose Morality. Of course, the Musician loses it too. It’s mutual destruction. He’s willing to sacrifice as long as we lose more.

Seeing the two intruders thrown off rhythm by their pre-deployed countermeasure, the yellow haired Shenle allowed himself a thin, satisfied smile. The short and muscular Seven Blades grunted, then whipped his arm forward and hurled a fireball. At the same time, roaring flames erupted across his body.

The searing fireball struck the ground beside Zhang Yuanqing and expanded violently. Seven Blades burst from the conflagration, his right fist thrusting forward like a spear.

On the other side of Shenle, the blonde-haired, androgynously handsome youth pressed his fingers to his lips and whistled a slow, lilting lullaby. The melody drifted through the air, gentle and soothing, like a mother softly humming her child to sleep. It carried with it an overwhelming drowsiness, a peace that seeped straight into the soul.

Zhang Yuanqing’s and Kou Beiyue’s eyes went slack as they hovered on the edge of consciousness.

The seamless coordination between the Level 3 Musician and Level 3 Fire Sage plunged Zhang Yuanqing into immediate danger. The Fire Sage drove a vicious straight punch into his chest.

His target’s body shattered like a mirage. It was nothing more than a phantom conjured by the Charm technique. Seven Blades had fallen under its influence the moment he’d leapt from the flames.

Zhang Yuanqing’s real body materialized several meters away. One hand gripping his knife while he reached behind his waist with the other. He needed to seize control of the battlefield.

He pressed the first button on the Cat King Speaker. Thunderous war drums boomed from the speaker and rolled through the hall, heavy, solemn, and commanding. Each beat reverberated as though heralding the arrival of an ancient army.

Shenle’s lullaby was instantly suppressed.

The patrons who hadn’t managed to escape dropped to the floor and trembled, including the hypnotized assassins. Even Kou Beiyue, his own ally, and the three enemy Walkers felt a suffocating pressure in their chests and an inexplicable surge of dread, as though every instinct screamed at them to flee.

Riding the pulse of his exclusive background music, Zhang Yuanqing raised his pistol and aimed it at Seven Blades, only meters away.

Across the room, the horse-faced young man’s expression turned savage. He clapped both palms against his ears with brutal force, rupturing his own eardrums. The sound of the oppressive, fear inducing drums vanished instantly, and his world fell silent. He seized a vine whip out of the air and lashed it at the man raising his gun.

Bang, bang!

The whip cracked against his arms, jerking the barrel aside. The bullets slammed into the wall behind Seven Blades, leaving two deep, splintered craters.

With a flick of his wrist, Qingsong hooked his vine whip around a chandelier dangling from the ceiling and swung forward like an ape, hurtling toward Zhang Yuanqing.

Seven Blades’ veins bulged at his temples as he powered through the lingering discomfort of the drums. He stormed forward, blazing flames erupting from his palm and condensing into a long blade radiating searing heat. The fiery blade swept upward in a vicious arc toward Zhang Yuanqing’s torso, denying him any chance to fire again.

Zhang Yuanqing twisted sideways to dodge the flame blade. Scorching heat grazed past him, and he caught the acrid smell of his own burning eyelashes and hair.

Crack!

He crossed his arms over his chest to block the horse-faced youth’s flying kick, and went staggering backward from the impact.

Kou Beiyue, still reeling from the combined effects of the lullaby and the war drums, reacted just a beat too slowly and failed to come to his aid.

Zhang Yuanqing caught a glimpse of his mentally-compromised teammate from the corner of his eye and couldn’t help but grumble internally, Seriously? This is your level? How do you have the nerve to say you’re on par with Li Xianzong? He’s way stronger than you!

Over by the gambling table, Shenle shifted his hand position, cupping it over his mouth like a microphone. He launched into a live beatbox performance, pumping out a heavy, rhythmic beat that mimicked the Cat King Speaker’s war drums. But unlike the Speaker’s oppressive terror, Shenle’s drums carried an invigorating, morale boosting power.

Seven Blades and Qingsong’s breathing instantly quickened, their faces flushing red. They surged with energy as though they’d been injected with pure adrenaline, their auras swelling dramatically.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

The horse-faced youth swung his vine whip in relentless succession. Each strike shattered floor tiles and exploded slot machines, forcing Zhang Yuanqing into a desperate, scrambling retreat.

Seven Blades pressed in close, leveraging the Fire Mage’s brute force in tight quarters. His flame-wreathed fists hammered down in a dense, unrelenting barrage, refusing to give his opponent a single moment to recover or counterattack.

Two on offense, with one supporting. Together, they pinned the Level 3 Nocturnal Specter down completely.

Zhang Yuanqing let out a cold snort. He tanked a punch from the Fire Mage head on, buying himself a precious instant of breathing room, and threw his head back in a long howl.

A hazy shaft of moonlight pierced through the building’s structure and bathed him in a faint, silvery radiance. His pupils flooded with inky blackness, swallowing the whites of his eyes. His aura shifted, becoming noble and darkly otherworldly.

Moon Howl!

He reached behind him again and pressed the second button on the Cat King Speaker. The wail of a suona tore through the air, each note shrill and piercing, each one climbing higher than the last.

Zhang Yuanqing’s frame swelled visibly. Muscles knotted and surged beneath his skin. Veins stood out like cables across his body. Night, Moon Howl, and the tune of the suona. The three stacking buffs pushed his aura to a terrifying new level.

Crack!

The Fire Mage’s follow up punch came instantly, a vicious hammer blow aimed at Zhang Yuanqing’s temple. Flame exploded on impact, and blood seeped from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. It was a punch powerful enough to scatter a man’s brains across the room.

Zhang Yuanqing didn’t move an inch. He split his lips in a cruel, savage grin. Seven Blades felt his blood run cold and retreated without hesitation.

Zhang Yuanqing stormed forward, closing the distance more quickly than the Fire Sage could flee. His right hand shot out like a claw, clamping around Seven Blades’ throat, and he carried the man forward in a short, violent charge before slamming him downward with all his might.

Crack!

The floor tiles shattered as Seven Blades was thrown to the floor. Zhang Yuanqing dropped one knee onto his chest, straightened his back, raised his fist high, and brought it crashing down.

There was a dull meaty impact, accompanied by the sounds of facial bones, nasal cartilage, and teeth splintering apart. Seven Blades’ legs gave a single violent spasm.

Thud, thud, thud...

Qingsong’s expression twisted in horror. He lashed his vine whip against the enemy’s back again and again, tearing through fabric, ripping open hideous wounds, but each wound sealed shut within two seconds.

Shenle, observing the fight from beside the gambling table, immediately switched melodies and launched into another lullaby, trying to smother the enemy’s fighting spirit.

Just then, he saw the boy who had been standing in a daze earlier on. Kou Beiyue was crouched low now, gripping his military bayonet, creeping forward with swift, silent purpose. He moved like a tiger closing in on its prey.

Shenle aborted his performance and threw himself into a rolling dive.

Crash!