Great! I'm surrounded by villains!
Chapter 33: The Strong

Chapter 33: Chapter 33: The Strong

"Tick-tock, tick-tock."

As the shadow sprang from Yang Ping’s sleeve in an instant, the sound of the ticking hands resumed. Poison Fang lunged at the figure and missed, and by the time it regained its senses, the other was already more than five meters away, its featureless face seeming to take an interest in examining the ferocious Poison Fang.

"Oh? Is this the so-called associated demon they talked about?"

The figure’s voice sounded like a mix of machinery and gears. Then, its gaze shifted towards Yang Ping, who was clutching his chest and gasping for breath, "You’re still alive, huh? It’s hard to say whether that’s fortunate or unfortunate, for at least if you had simply died just now, you could have departed easily."

"The person Senior spoke of is you guys."

Yang Ping looked directly at the other.

The sachet that Senior had given him seemed to have taken effect. From the pocket where he had placed the sachet, a burning sensation emanated, as if it had shielded him from the lethal blow he just received.

This was unlike any of the evil spirits he had encountered thus far, not just because of the strange Ability but also the ability to communicate with people, meaning the evil spirit in front of him possessed independent thought.

It acted not out of pure instinct but had subjectively decided to become a murderer.

Poison Fang once mentioned that most evil spirits consume humans out of instinct, just as humans consume other animals, which is natural and has nothing to do with good or evil. However, the figure before him and the evil spirit that had attacked the aftermath processing team members were different; they came with pure malice and the intention to kill.

"Senior? Oh, you mean that guy. After I kill you, it won’t take me long to find him."

"Why? What benefit is there for you to kill people?"

"Benefit?"

The figure paused – it had never considered this question, nor did it need to.

Yang Ping’s questioning seemed somewhat amusing to it; probably only a small child would ask such a question, fussing over right and wrong when death was imminent.

"Listen well, there’s only one rule in this world — the strong are meant to trample the weak with impunity!"

"Poison Fang!"

"Tick-tock, tick-tock."

Several sounds intermingled. Yang Ping immediately drew his gun, and Poison Fang too sprang towards the figure with lightning speed.

"A weapon modified with Poison Fang, if hit directly, will paralyze."

All attacks missed. When he came back to his senses, Yang Ping found no one in his sight, but he could hear a voice behind him, close at hand. A cold, hard object was pressed against his back, piercing mercilessly, "Someone has leaked your secret; there are more than just me who want you dead."

Efficiently, he pulled the blade-like hand from Yang Ping’s back, flicking the blood onto the ground like a Swordsman, a strike powerful enough to sever Yang Ping’s spine.

"...Your Ability."

Yang Ping’s eyes widened, his pupils dilating.

A familiar scene, yet somehow lacking in excitement, the figure glanced sidelong at the body falling like a withered leaf, no longer feeling the thrill of his first kill.

It seemed, to him, that the members of the organization were no different from the ordinary people he had killed; the moment they witnessed his Ability was the moment their death descended.

No.

This very fact attested to the invincibility of his Ability!

That’s why those people had visited him, eager to recruit him into the organization, telling him everything about the Abilities and the evil spirits.

With Yang Ping dead, Yunlong City would be left with only one last hunting target.

A slight movement from behind caused the figure to falter, and the corner of his eye caught an unusual detail — the blood on the plastic ground beneath him had evaporated, or rather, it looked as though it had never been smeared there at all.

But just now, the blow that had pierced through Yang Ping’s body had felt real, his judgment couldn’t be wrong. He had killed many people this way, it was just like any other time.

Could it be...

This kid, he also has some kind of Ability?

Otherwise, there’s no way he could be lucky enough to dodge his attacks twice in a row!

"Tick-tock, tick-tock."

Almost the instant he sensed danger, the figure once again increased the distance between himself and Yang Ping. However, the object the latter threw left him bewildered for a moment.

Had the kid become so scared that he’d lost his wits?

Even in a high school brawl, a backpack would hardly cause any real damage.

"Forget it, I’ve lost interest in why you’re still alive."

The figure spread his arms, "Be it Ability or a simple trick, all I need to do is chop you into mincemeat."

He crouched down.

"Tick-tock..."

The sound of the clock hands moving once more was drowned out by another, more grating noise, "Crackle-pop—!"

When the firecrackers went off, Yang Ping concentrated intently, watching the figure’s every move.

His backpack was loaded with a variety of emergency items, among which were firecrackers.

Evil spirits don’t like crowded places, nor do they like deafening noise—that was what he’d learned from dealing with evil spirits. For those marked by evil spirits, perpetually at risk of dying unexpectedly, firecrackers could be a lifesaver.

Yang Ping didn’t believe that firecrackers would scare the opponent away, but the deafening noise confirmed one of his suspicions.

Mr. Mingyuan had mentioned yesterday that there were evil spirits in this world who had awakened troublesome Abilities.

But they were not unbeatable. An Ability is an extension of human desire and obsession, yet even in Dreamland, the subconscious of a human will impose restrictions on it.

The more powerful the Ability, the more stringent the conditions for its activation tend to be.

This time, the figure didn’t disappear; Yang Ping clearly saw the trajectory of the figure’s movement. After taking two steps forward, the figure halted.

The secret lay in the "tick-tock, tick-tock" of the clock. Each time the sound echoed in his ears, the figure would vanish from his sight, instantly reaching his blind spot as if... time had suddenly skipped forward.

The shot Poison Fangs, the darting rattles, and the leaves slowly falling from the tree branches all became actions already completed in time.

Stopped by the clock, were only those who had heard the ticking of the hands.

Of course, this insight had come at the cost of two "deaths."

Had it not been for the sachet given to him by his senior, he would have been pierced through by the opponent’s first deployment of the Ability and died in confusion and astonishment, just like the other victims.

"Who’s that lacking public decency, setting off firecrackers in broad daylight!"

"Hurry and check it out, if there’s a fire, it’ll be terrible."

The sound of the firecrackers not only interrupted the battle but also drew the attention of people nearby.

"Kid."

Before the crowd gathered, the figure slowly retreated into the shadows of the trees on both sides of the road, "I’ll come back for you."

Yang Ping didn’t respond; he continued to stare fixedly at the figure, his focus sharp, without the slightest relaxation.

I must kill him.

That was the only thought in the figure’s mind.

The ambush had failed, and more importantly, that brat had somehow guessed the limitation of his Ability.

I must silence him before he can spread the message that...

His thoughts abruptly stopped.

Behind the dense shade, he saw a man who shouldn’t have been there.

The man, wearing a highly distinctive suit, leaned against a tree trunk, had opened a memo pad, and was quickly jotting something down.

"Just a moment."

The man called out to him proactively, "I’ll be done shortly."