Zhu Que felt that the few people before him had truly lost their minds—how dare they, as mere “Participants,” actually raise their hands against him?
“If Xuan Wu doesn’t show up soon, I’ll just have to handle her job for her,” Zhu Que said, tilting his head toward the sky. “There are quite a few rule-breaking ‘Participants’ around.”
“Unfortunately, she won’t be showing up,” Liu Ershiyi replied.
“Oh…?” Zhu Que withdrew his gaze and fixed it on the tall, lean man before him. “From the sound of it, Xuan Wu is already dead.”
“That’s right. We sent her on her way,” Liu Ershiyi said, slowly pulling Zhou Mo behind him. “Next, we’ll be sending *you*.”
“Such bold words…” Zhu Que frowned slightly, though the smile never left his face. “Even *I* couldn’t send Xuan Wu away. And *you* think you can?”
“Try us if you don’t believe it.”
Cold sweat trickled down Liu Ershiyi’s forehead. For now, their only option was to stall for time. After all, every attack from “Cats” required perfect coordination—the more allies they could gather, the better their chances of survival.
Meanwhile, the members of “Jidao” sensed that the situation was spiraling out of control. Even with their numerous support-type “Echoes,” they stood no chance of wounding Zhu Que in this standoff. Their only choice was to inch closer to the “Door,” as their mission had never been to “slay the Divine Beast,” but to “board the train.”
“Tch. We need to find a way to free Di Zhu…” Zhou Mo whispered to Cui Shisi from behind. “He knows weaknesses about Zhu Que that we don’t. He *can’t* die here.”
“With just the three of us… it’s unlikely…” Cui Shisi grimaced.
“Tch. Doesn’t matter,” Zhou Mo shook her head. “We’ll buy as much time as we can.”
As she spoke, she noticed the numerous wounds on both Cui Shisi and Liu Ershiyi. It seemed their battle against Xuan Wu hadn’t been without cost.
Zhu Que watched the trio with amusement before stepping forward. “Whether you’re lying or not, I’ll take over Xuan Wu’s duties. Rest in peace.”
The moment his words fell, Zhu Que vanished. Di Zhu, caught in the sudden movement, was flung against the wall, his body leaving a gruesome smear of blood.
With Zhu Que out of sight, Zhou Mo and the others frantically scanned their surroundings—but he was nowhere to be found. Then, the faint sound of footsteps reached their ears.
They turned to see Zhu Que standing not far behind, holding several severed heads—the “Jidao” members who had been there moments ago.
He gripped the hair of each head like shopping bags, as if returning from a fruitful trip to the market.
The faces still bore the shock of their final moments, their mouths even twitching slightly. Seven headless bodies stood motionless by the teleportation gate, not yet realizing they were dead.
“Some children just don’t listen,” Zhu Que mused. “One careless moment, and they’re already leaving.”
Liu Ershiyi’s brows furrowed. He knew Zhu Que wasn’t sparing them—he was toying with their lives. If they didn’t strike first, they might die without even realizing it.
A thought flashed through his mind. Suddenly, tiny sprouts began silently growing from the orifices of the seven heads.
Without Ning Shiba’s “Wild Growth,” the process was slower, but the sight was no less grotesque as the tendrils crept upward.
Zhu Que seemed to sense something. Smiling, he locked eyes with Liu Ershiyi. “Sneaky little tricks… huh?”
With that, he gathered all the heads in his left hand, then grabbed one by the hair with his right. Swinging it like a meteor, he hurled it straight at Liu Ershiyi.
The head shot toward him like a missile. Liu Ershiyi’s eyes widened as he crossed his arms in defense—only to feel the impact of what might as well have been a bowling ball slamming into him.
The crisp sound of bone cracking filled the air. The head, impossibly hard, exploded against his arms like a watermelon, sending a spray of blood and sending him flying backward.
Liu Ershiyi skidded across the ground, his entire body wracked with pain. He couldn’t tell if the cracking had been the skull or his own arms—his mind was blank, unable to process anything.
“Ershiyi…!” Cui Shisi rushed toward him, but after only three steps, the whistle of something cutting through the air reached her ears.
She turned just in time to see another head hurtling toward her, its features distorted by the sheer speed.
In a split-second decision, Cui Shisi raised one of her twin rings to block while throwing the other.
The head passed through the first ring and shot out from the second, changing trajectory midair—now flying straight back at Zhu Que.
Unfazed, Zhu Que merely straightened his posture, letting the head shatter against his chest.
Gasping for breath, Cui Shisi hurried to Liu Ershiyi’s side.
“Are you okay…?” she asked.
“Shisi-jie… I think he can only fight hand-to-hand…” Liu Ershiyi didn’t mention that his arms had gone numb—instead, he shared his deduction.
“What?” Cui Shisi blinked.
Liu Ershiyi coughed weakly. “Shisi-jie, he’s not like Xuan Wu or Bai Hu… He can’t use ‘Detonation’ or ‘Pilfer.’ His only means of attack is physical combat, just like a normal ‘Zodiac.'”
“Even so, we’re no match for him in close combat…” Cui Shisi’s expression darkened. “And with ‘Warp,’ ‘Levitation,’ and ‘Soul Snatch,’ his lethality far surpasses any other ‘Zodiac.'”
Zhou Mo froze at those words. “‘Warp,’ ‘Levitation,’ and ‘Soul Snatch’…?”
A chilling thought struck her—
If that was the case, how was Zhu Que any different from a “Heavenly” rank? And how could he possibly keep all the “Zodiacs” in check?
Was the threat of “Soul Snatch” really that terrifying?
“Mmgh…!” Di Zhu desperately tried to speak, though no words came out. His eyes, however, screamed that things weren’t as simple as they seemed.
Even with “Soul Snatch” as his trump card, Zhu Que shouldn’t be able to control all “Zodiacs.” Unlike Xuan Wu, his jurisdiction was limited to them. If even *one* “Earthly” rank figured out that deafening themselves could neutralize “Soul Snatch,” Zhu Que would be in danger.
“But what do we do now…?” Zhou Mo had no idea how to make Di Zhu reveal Zhu Que’s weakness.
Just then, the crisp sound of a lighter clicked in the distance.
A short-statured dwarf lowered his head to light a cigarette, then murmured softly, “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out together.”
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