Chapter Fifteen: A New Main Plot

Swinging his left hand, he struck the blade of one shadowy figure with tremendous force. Unable to withstand the impact, the shadow lost its grip, and the blade flew from its hand. Seizing the opportunity, Murong Xun kicked the shadow squarely in the abdomen.

Yet in the next moment, his brow furrowed.

Something was off.

It felt as though he had kicked a bundle of cotton—soft and yielding, the force of his blow lost in the contact.

Just then, the other three shadows slashed at him with their blades, and Murong Xun quickly retreated. The shadow whose sword had been knocked away seemed utterly unphased by the impact. It did not fall, nor did it care about the weapon lying on the ground. Instead, it charged at him with renewed ferocity.

Seeing its straightforward approach, Murong Xun raised his short sword and brought it down in a decisive arc.

The shadow brought its hands together, attempting to catch the blade barehanded.

A sickening sound split the air.

Murong Xun’s short sword sliced off a portion of the shadow’s head, yet it remained in that defensive stance, as if frozen in the act.

When surrounded by four shadows, his strength had seemed unremarkable. Confronted one-on-one, however, the result was entirely different.

After losing part of its head, the shadow stood motionless for several seconds before abruptly dissolving into a swirl of black mist, vanishing without a trace.

Murong Xun watched thoughtfully, but there was no time for reflection. The flames within the barbecue shop were spreading rapidly, and the other three shadows pressed their attack relentlessly.

The four shadows together had failed to overwhelm him; now, with just three left, they were far easier to handle. Taking advantage of each opening, Murong Xun dispatched them one by one. In less than a few minutes, he had dealt with them all.

He gazed at the now-empty shop. Though he had slain several bizarre entities, nothing remained behind, which left him frustrated. Truth be told, he had coveted the long blades wielded by the shadows—using a short sword felt awkward and unwieldy.

Glancing at the escalating flames, Murong Xun dashed for the exit. The shop was not large, so it took only a few strides to burst out into the open.

Standing on the cool, empty street, he exhaled in relief. Though unscathed by the fire, his hair had been singed and now curled slightly from the heat.

Turning around, he watched as the barbecue shop was engulfed in roaring flames. Under his gaze, the entire building was swallowed by the inferno and reduced to ashes.

“Get up.”

Murong Xun’s voice was calm as he addressed the two crouching figures.

“This…”

Faced with the smoldering ruins behind them, Xu Ying and Zhang Jiao were stunned.

Murong Xun offered no explanation, simply turning to continue onward. The two women dared not ask questions and hurried to follow. They were no fools; it was clear this place was anything but ordinary. Murong Xun might seem cold, but at least he allowed them to accompany him. How could they not cling to such a reliable escort?

Even as he pressed forward, Murong Xun was silently assessing his gains. When he checked his main quest, his brow lifted slightly. At first, his objective had been to slay twenty bizarre entities, but he had discovered that only those ranked Level One or above counted. He had gradually accumulated kills, and with the defeat of the four shadows, his progress had finally reached 14 out of 20. Apparently, each shadow counted, and even the Ghost Bus had been credited as one. The latter puzzled him; perhaps it was due to the many sub-Level One entities he had slain, or perhaps for destroying the Ghost Bus itself. Or could it be that the Painted Skin Ghost truly had perished, credited to him as a kill?

There was no way to verify these details, yet that was not what truly surprised him.

Beyond the initial danger, the main quest had become a matter of numbers and time. He had already completed two side quests—joining the Bureau of the Unusual, and the strength-enhancing serum mission. Now, however, his quest list showed three objectives.

One was the protection mission received on the Ghost Bus—a side quest, but with a severe penalty: immediate erasure upon failure.

The new addition, however, was a main quest.

[Escape the Ghostly Abyss: You have strayed into the playground of the bizarre, paradise of the monstrous. Escape as quickly as possible.]

[Quest Reward: One piece of white-grade equipment]

[Quest Penalty: Sink into the Ghostly Abyss and become one of the bizarre.]

“Oh?”

At this, Murong Xun was moved at last. An equipment reward—so far, he only possessed two items: a standard-issue short sword with no enhancements, and a pair of gloves of uncertain grade.

Setting aside the reward for now, he focused on how to escape.

Judging by the quest prompt, this truly was a netherworld. The shadows in the barbecue shop had also been strange; he couldn’t shake the feeling that a puppet master lurked behind the scenes.

The problem was this: if he pressed forward, he might encounter other bizarre entities—Level Ones would be manageable, but he dreaded facing something higher.

But to remain here was to risk drawing out the mastermind.

Yet staying put was not an option, either. If he lingered too long, he would be trapped here forever. The quest penalty would be irrelevant—he would be assimilated regardless.

Ahead, the road stretched endlessly, shrouded in gloom. The shopfronts on either side were tightly sealed, not a glimmer of light within, and, peculiarly, they seemed to be growing indistinct.

A fog began to gather on the road ahead, blurring the view until only a vague glow was visible in the distance.

The air began to chill.

Xu Ying and Zhang Jiao instinctively moved closer to Murong Xun.

The uncanny changes unsettled them. Though their feminine reserve made them shy to approach a man so closely, fear and the cold—made worse by their skimpy summer clothes—drove them to seek his warmth.

“Stay away from me,” Murong Xun said coldly, feeling something soft press against his back.

For some reason, his own body temperature seemed to be rising, and the sensation left him deeply uncomfortable.

“But we’re scared! And so cold…”

“What’s that got to do with me?” Murong Xun turned, his face expressionless. “When you go out, why not dress more warmly?”

Xu Ying and Zhang Jiao exchanged glances. In the heat of midsummer, who would go out bundled up?

They cursed his insensitivity inwardly, but dared not voice their complaints. Clinging to one another, they could only rely on each other’s warmth.

“Don’t insult me in your hearts,” Murong Xun suddenly said, turning to glare at them.

“Ah?” The two women were dumbfounded—could he actually hear their thoughts?

Chastened, they fell silent, as meek as frightened kittens, not daring to make another sound.