"Dance?" Ou Xiangrong was momentarily stunned, his mind unable to catch up.
A supernatural-type artifact was actually inviting him to dance.
Ou Xiangrong sneered coldly. There was no way he would "dance" with the enemy's cursed shoes in the middle of a fight. Without hesitation, he bit the tip of his tongue and spat a mouthful of blood onto the gleaming blade of his Liu Blade.
As an experienced Spirit Realm walker and a sinister class practitioner, Ou Xiangrong was no stranger to fighting Night Wanderers and understood their skill traits well.
Supernatural artifacts were notoriously tricky. He had once been entangled with one for days — a real pain in the ass.
But the downside was obvious: their actual lethality was somewhat lacking.
Moreover, supernatural artifacts generally feared strong Yang energy. For an item that seemed like a spirit-possessed relic, a single spurt of tongue blood was enough to suppress it.
No problem.
The red dancing shoes moved rhythmically—one step forward, one step back—waiting a few seconds. Seeing that the human before them refused to dance, they seemed irritated. A dark crimson glow appeared on the shoes, and with a rapid "clack-clack," they lunged at Ou Xiangrong.
Standing firm, Ou Xiangrong calmly waited for the shoes to approach. As they leapt to attack his head, he swung the Liu Blade, aiming to strike the vengeful spirit inhabiting the shoes hard.
However, when his blade sliced through the shoes, there was no sensation of cutting through a solid object. These eerie red shoes seemed to exist in another dimension, not fully present in reality.
"Bang! Bang!"
The next moment, Ou Xiangrong's chest and face were brutally kicked twice.
He felt the same crushing pain in his heart that Zhang Yuanqing had just experienced—his breathing faltering—and his face burned painfully as warm liquid trickled from his nostrils.
This… this wasn't a Night Wanderer artifact... Ou Xiangrong's expression twisted in shock and confusion as he murmured,
"Void?"
The artifact's trait resembled that of a foreign profession. How could a level 1 Night Wanderer have a foreign-class artifact?
Before he could think further, the strange dancing shoes changed direction and stomped towards him again.
He couldn't bother wiping the blood from his nose. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he endured two brutal stomps that knocked him off the car roof.
Ou Xiangrong dove, sprinted, rolled, and used the vehicles around him to evade in the spacious underground garage. He dodged most of the shoes' attacks.
Yet he was still stepped on several times, each stomp causing unbearable pain. The injuries from last night's fierce battle flared up again, with blood seeping from his internal organs.
Damn… strong as hell…
Zhang Yuanqing watched the fight stunned, mouth agape.
He once again deeply understood the terrifying nature of rule-based artifacts.
Their pursuit could not be broken or interrupted. The target could only passively endure the chase—unless they broke the rule, which was to dance.
But that was unrealistic. Even if Ou Xiangrong reluctantly danced the tap dance in shame, Zhang Yuanqing would intervene and cause him to misstep.
One misstep would waste everything.
Still, Zhang Yuanqing gained a clearer understanding of the power of the Bewitching Demon. With the stomping force of the red shoes, Ou Xiangrong could still endure.
His physical body was terrifyingly tough.
"Ou Xiangrong won't foolishly wait to die. Once he realizes he can only take hits and can't fight back, he'll try to escape…"
Zhang Yuanqing's mind was sharp. He had to ambush before Ou Xiangrong fled.
Not to kill—just to hold down this killer.
Bang! Bang!
Ou Xiangrong was hit in the face again by two powerful kicks from the red shoes, staggering backward, vision darkening, dizzy.
Opportunity!
Zhang Yuanqing darted out like a cheetah, gripping his Fumo Staff as he ran in a curved parabola around Ou Xiangrong, thrusting the staff fiercely toward his back.
"Buzz!"
Suddenly, a dense misty white light blocked the pointed tip of the Fumo Staff.
The force came from the bronze waist token in Ou Xiangrong's left hand—a cracked, blood-stained ancient token, like the item of a battle-hardened veteran.
It was Zhao Yingjun's defensive artifact.
"Defensive artifact?"
Zhang Yuanqing's heart sank at the failed ambush. His foot slipped, but he kept circling Ou Xiangrong, repeatedly striking the white light barrier with the Fumo Staff, causing ripple-like glimmers.
This time, shielded by the red shoes, he avoided being instantly killed by the Bewitching Demon, narrowly dodging several blade and fist attacks.
Crack!
Finally, under the continuous strikes of the Fumo Staff and the red shoes, the bronze waist token shattered, and the white light dispersed into sparks.
At this moment, Zhang Yuanqing's Night Wanderer form faded, and his body reappeared.
Ou Xiangrong seemed to be waiting for this moment. His eyes turned blood-red, and twisted, evil runes surfaced.
Bewitch.
Zhang Yuanqing's mind went blank, losing all clarity, as if forgetting he was in combat. A voice echoed in his head:
"Put down your weapon, don't resist. Put down your weapon, don't resist…"
Ou Xiangrong sneered and slashed the Liu Blade toward the young Night Wanderer's neck.
He preferred to endure the terrifying attacks of the red shoes rather than use his defensive artifact now because he was waiting for the Night Wanderer to strike first.
This scout-class artifact was already half-damaged. Using it prematurely would only block the shoes' attacks briefly before breaking completely.
So he endured and deliberately left a flaw to bait the opponent into attacking.
As expected, the inexperienced young Night Wanderer lost patience and fell into the trap.
However, just before the blade cut the young man's neck, Ou Xiangrong saw his body suddenly collapse. The Liu Blade grazed his scalp, cutting a few strands of hair.
The red dancing shoes, which had relentlessly chased Ou Xiangrong, had somehow appeared on the Night Wanderer's feet, forcing him into a split stance that dodged the throat slash.
At the same time, the bewitched Night Wanderer's eyes shone golden, instantly breaking free from the daze. He kicked forcefully, smashing himself into Ou Xiangrong.
Ou Xiangrong never expected this. A mere level 1 Night Wanderer could break his bewitchment.
Yet, still mid-swing, unable to stop, he could only watch helplessly as the brass staff thrust into his chest.
"Pfft!"
Flesh tore as the staff's tip burst with a dazzling golden light, burning away all vitality in his chest.
Ou Xiangrong's vision darkened; pain nearly knocked him unconscious. Yet, as a battle-hardened Bewitching Demon, he triggered a death surge, pulling back his right arm, dragging the Liu Blade to slash the Night Wanderer's throat.
At the same time, he tensed his left arm muscles and snapped his elbow, turning his left fist into a spear full of force, jabbing fiercely into the enemy's shoulder.
Zhang Yuanqing jerked his head back, dodging the throat cut, only to be punched hard in the shoulder, flying like a ragdoll.
Bang!
He slammed into a van, cracking its window. Before he hit the ground, he was wiped away inch by inch, vanishing from Ou Xiangrong's sight.
He entered Night Wanderer mode again.
Ou Xiangrong didn't look at him but staggered toward Xu Yingying.
His heart was destroyed. Only living blood could save him now—he needed to kill to enter a berserk state.
Then burst out of the garage, bloodbath the campus, and use his bloodthirsty demon nature to heal and reverse death.
But that would plunge his morality score below 60, putting him on the Spirit Realm's wanted list and making him the target of all spirit walkers in the city. But he couldn't care about that now.
"Clack, clack, clack…"
Two dark crimson glows appeared out of thin air, forming a pair of brand-new red dancing shoes, cutting off Ou Xiangrong's escape.
At this moment, the footsteps sounded like a death knell—a sigh from the grim reaper, a sentence from the King of Hell.
"Bang! Bang!"
Ou Xiangrong's face was stomped, blood and flesh mashed beyond recognition. He lost control, head thrown back, collapsing. At the last moment, he flung the Liu Blade.
The forty-centimeter blade shot like a silver streak toward Xu Yingying.
Ou Xiangrong's eyes locked onto the blade.
Cling!
Sparks flew as a bronze staff thrust out from the void, knocking the Liu Blade aside. Next to Xu Yingying appeared a figure.
It was Zhang Yuanqing.
Seeing this, hope in Ou Xiangrong's eyes turned into despair and reluctance.
At that moment, the red shoes descended from above, stomping his face, crushing his nose bridge, splitting his lips, and bursting his eyeballs out.
Ou Xiangrong twitched a few times, then lost all life.
Zhang Yuanqing collapsed beside Xu Yingying, letting out a long breath, utterly drained.
His chest churned with rage, hands and feet trembling.
This was not fear—it was the adrenaline surge that triggered mental excitement. When people are in mortal danger, adrenaline pumps uncontrollably, enabling them to kill without hesitation.
The battle plan succeeded.
Before the fight, he had thought it through clearly. The only skill he needed to avoid was the enemy's bewitchment. So before the ambush, he had sacrificed the Fumo Staff.
The staff's function included purification.
The red shoes' second form was his reason to fight up close—they really helped him avoid the lethal throat slash.
Marking, bewitchment, berserk, close combat… Zhang Yuanqing had analyzed all of Ou Xiangrong's abilities and planned countermeasures. If he still lost, he might as well quit.
After catching his breath, Zhang Yuanqing calmed his turbulent emotions and heard the Spirit Realm notification:
[Ding! You have slain a level 3 Bewitching Demon. Morality +30, Reputation +15, Reputation unlocked.]
Zhang Yuanqing was surprised and quickly opened his character panel to see a new "Reputation" stat.
Reputation? Killing hostile Spirit Realm walkers granted reputation? As a veteran gamer, he knew about reputation but didn't know its use in the Spirit Realm.
He decided to check the official forum later.
Compared to the Spirit Realm rewards, the real-world loot was more important now.
He approached Ou Xiangrong's corpse, kicked the eyeballs under the car, then dragged the body into a shadowy corner.
Searching the body, he found a phone and a wallet.
The phone was an old model, only capable of calls. The wallet was fat—inside were stacks of hundred-yuan bills and a fake ID.
Zhang Yuanqing counted carefully, "A wanted criminal carrying only 1,500 yuan? What a joke…"
Confiscated! He pocketed the cash.
Then he picked up the sharp Liu Blade.
Upon contact, information appeared:
[Name: Bloodthirsty Blade]
[Type: Weapon]
[Abilities: Bleeding, Bloodthirst, Armor Penetration]
[Description: A powerful Bewitching Demon once fed this blade with his own blood. Over time, it became extremely bloodthirsty. Its blade can cut through hard steel, wounds it inflicts are difficult to heal. It absorbs the victim's blood essence, empowering its owner.]
[Note: A good blade is one that desires its owner.]
"This blade looks badass. If it had killed Xu Yingying earlier, Ou Xiangrong would have been fed back by the weapon… Good thing I stayed by her side."
Zhang Yuanqing returned to the corpse, removed the sheath from the demon's waist, equipped it himself, and sheathed the Bloodthirsty Blade inside.
The blade felt cool and sharp, sending chills down his spine.
The price of killing was heavy.
But this was survival.