52. Jack the Ripper Chihua

Gunshots echoed through the hotel as chaos erupted. Men shouted orders, shielding their wives and children as they groped their way toward rooms or fire escapes. Girls kicked off their high heels and ran for their lives, leaving a scatter of belongings behind them in the rush. People shoved and pushed, purposely using others as human shields against their backs.

Just minutes earlier, those same individuals had been hotel staff, guests, or handymen, but now they had transformed into desperate, ruthless thugs, raising their guns to fire at anything that moved in the darkness.

Zhou Yishu also blended in with An Ran and the others. Gradually, she realized that although An Ran was idle, good-for-nothing, and always getting into fights, he had a good heart and was deeply loyal and straightforward.

He really is just a pure-hearted college student, An Ran thought as she looked at his adorable back, unable to help a chuckle, and followed after him.

Before that, however, she had to protect her physical body at all costs. Once the physical body suffered damage, her cultivation would effectively come to an end; even her magical powers would slowly weaken and fade, until finally, both her physical form and vital energy withered away completely, resulting in absolute death.

Speaking of which, among the six-member group from the secret realm back then, aside from the ghost cultivator Chen Linzhi and the Daoist Huang Weixin, the sects of the remaining members—including the Kunyuan Sect where Zhan Wushuang belonged—seemed to all be from the Southern Yue Kingdom. She wondered if she would have the chance to see them this time.

Her expression was so desolate, so agonizing, that Su Xia felt as though her heart were being torn to shreds. She hated her own utter helplessness in that moment and could do nothing except shed meaningless tears alongside her.

Gaining official support to complete a hidden quest was equivalent to completing ten ordinary quests for anyone else.

Just as Liu Rentu was about to lead his troops into the city, the Princess of Jin rode out of the city gates empty-handed atop a peach-blossom horse, followed closely by a bay horse carrying her personal maid Fangruo, who wielded an embroidered velvet saber.

Tanjiro caught his father's gaze, freezing instantly as he understood his father's intent almost at once.

"Your concubine wouldn't dare. Listening to Her Majesty the Empress Dowager's decree before taking a seat is the proper etiquette," Xu Jinrou replied with a very earnest attitude.

Thus, she stopped dodging. With a sway of her figure, she directly unleashed the Heavenly Demonic Mirage, enveloping the massive thunderstorm within it.

Meanwhile, across the vast No. 3 arena, only Song Ming stood there in solitary isolation. A fine drizzle and gentle breeze, accompanied by a thin, hazy mist, made it feel as though one had fallen into a dream.

Lan Ye violently whipped his head around. His hostility toward the Myriad Scorpion Sect was no less than his hatred for the Heavenly Puppet Sect. Neither of these two factions was up to any good; ordinary people avoided them like the plague, and even his Fang family wished to have no dealings with them whatsoever.

Having argued back and forth with Zhang Yi earlier without being able to squeeze out a single discount, why was such a deal suddenly dropping into her lap?

"My heart hurts," she muttered, burying her head and tugging at her cuffs over and over. Refusing to look at me, she simply stared out the window. I had seen that look before—it was the exact expression she often wore last year when the two people stood on the snowy peaks of the Kunlun Mountains, gazing out into the distance.

Inside the Demon Palace, Yue Linglong and the Disaster Matriarch both sensed something and snapped their gazes toward Chu Han, their faces etched with utter astonishment.

After hearing this, A-xiu looked momentarily flustered, a trace of unease settling over her fatigued and haggard face.

The masked man wanted to say something more, but upon seeing the excitement on Lin Yuan's face, he could only shut his mouth obediently, reverting to his usual cold, mechanical posture as he stood rigidly by Lin Yuan's side.

Hearing this filled me with profound shock. So the history of the tomb-raiding faction was this ancient, tracing its predecessor all the way back to the primitive era of the abdication system. Suddenly, I felt as though the blood flowing through my veins was extraordinary yet unbearably heavy.

There was another matter today: after deliberation, the Li family decided that Li Ruiguo would step down as the head of the family, passing the position to Li Chengde.

Putting aside whether Xiang Yu would allow him to leave, even if given the opportunity, he had no intention of running, because the Flowing Butterfly would inevitably pursue him in an endless, relentless hunt.

As for the common folk, every single one of them had bodies covered in intensely itchy red rashes, and they clawed at their exposed rashes like mindless, enchanted fools.