Chapter 28: Devour

With that single sentence from Wen Li, a silent storm swept across the entire space, then rapidly dissipated into nothingness.

In terms of intensity, the shockwave was no more than a gentle breeze, yet Fu Qian felt that something had fundamentally changed.

Before he could even contemplate it, a non-human roar erupted, sending a sharp, painful jolt through his eardrums. The Shadow Nightmare, still clutched by its throat in his hand, began to struggle violently.

*Has it been frightened into madness?* Fu Qian glanced at it.

The top-tier assassin, who had been negotiating just moments ago, now had eyes burning blood-red. A beast-like growling emanated from its throat as it thrashed about, utterly disregarding its own life.

*Snap.*

The Shadow Nightmare, unable to break free, had its neck snapped clean in two. Stranger still, the severed area was as dry as kindling; not a single drop of blood leaked out. Despite its head being detached, the creature’s struggles did not cease; if anything, its movements grew increasingly frantic.

A rush of wind sounded. Fu Qian tilted his head, narrowly avoiding a claw swiping at his skull.

The claw missed, and under the force of its own momentum, the already decayed arm snapped off at the joint. Again, no blood flowed, but the dark red blood-veins covering the surface of the arm suddenly peeled away.

Then followed the shoulder, the chest, the upper torso.

Like a cicada shedding its skin, the dark red blood-veins pulled themselves out of the Shadow Nightmare’s corpse strand by strand, then slithered onto the wall, clinging tightly to the surface.

The Shadow Nightmare in his hand was now thoroughly dead. Fu Qian tossed the remains aside.

At that very moment, it felt as if a hand grenade had detonated inside his own mind. An intensely violent bloodlust flooded his brain, stimulating every nerve and leaving his reason tottering on the brink of collapse. Every cell in his body surged with agitation, as if only the most gruesome slaughter could appease them.

*Hiss!*

Fu Qian drew a sharp breath and glanced back.

Wen Li stood motionless, her eyes tightly shut. She remained pale and fragile, but her aura had undergone a distinct transformation, now veiled in a layer of mystery.

Further away, Tan Mingxue had completely broken down. She sat huddled in a corner, shivering, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. Countless transparent filaments, formed from her own hair, swirled in chaotic entanglement around her, preventing anything from drawing near.

*That invisible storm can amplify human emotions?*

Fu Qian’s mind stirred, using his remaining sliver of rationality to analyze the situation. The Shadow Nightmare had clearly been struck; it had been fixated on escape, which explained why it tried so desperately to break free from his grip. But he hadn’t expected Tan Mingxue to be affected as well—this woman was far less courageous than she appeared. And she called herself a Night Watcher!

As for Wen Li, the storm had clearly emanated from her. She was the source of this anomaly.

From this perspective, his plan to stimulate Wen Li using the pressure and fear of death had been successful. Although he hadn't yet received a notification of mission success, Wen Li was clearly in the midst of a transformation. As for whether this was the "opportunity for advancement" she had mentioned, he would have to wait and see.

*Snap!*

With a dull thud, Fu Qian broke his own right hand. There was no choice; if he didn't break it, he would have pounded everyone nearby into a pulp.

Yet, within seconds, the broken hand firmly knit itself back together.

*If I can interrupt Wen Li, it should stop.*

Amidst the sound of snapping bones, Fu Qian broke his hand again, forcing himself to remain calm. Interrupting Wen Li was simple; the difficulty lay in doing so without physically breaking her.

Just then, a sea of blood-red began to roil before his eyes. With a violent tremor, the entity that had shed the Shadow Nightmare’s corpse on the wall coiled into a spiked sphere. Furthermore, the sphere began to expand crazily, countless blood-red meridians twisting together, corroding and devouring everything they touched.

The closest thing to it was the motionless Wen Li.

*Ten seconds, at most, and this talented girl will meet an untimely end.*

Fu Qian made a swift judgment. But if he smashed the thing, the "Scarlet Fever" would disperse. He didn't care about himself, but it was uncertain if Wen Li could survive, even if she did advance.

The moment these two options appeared in his mind, Fu Qian felt his thoughts spiral into chaos, almost impossible to process. *As expected, conflicted emotions are also being amplified.*

Watching the thing grow wildly, expanding several times its size in a blink, it was now only a step away from Wen Li.

*Kill it, but don't break it. That’s complicated.*

The stricter the requirements, the broader one’s thinking must be. Fu Qian took a step forward and, in the next instant, completely unleashed his suppression of the violent bloodlust.

*Riiip!*

A flash of crimson light. His newly regenerated right hand tore a deep, bottomless wound into his own chest. Under the impetus of the violent bloodlust, his body’s metabolism was pushed to the limit. In an instant, the cells at the wound site grew frantically, morphing into rows of jagged fangs.

He took a deep breath, and the tear in his chest ripped open further. In half a second, it had become a blood-filled maw lined with sharp teeth.

Fu Qian opened it toward the dark red blood mass.

The mass, now several times its original size, had nowhere to hide and was swallowed in one gulp.

The maw snapped shut. The blood mass began to struggle violently, but no matter how it thrashed, it remained pinned down by the hyper-active cells, finding no escape.

After countless collisions, the blood mass finally ruptured and disintegrated. A wave of scorching red mist escaped, but it remained locked tight within Fu Qian’s chest; not a single wisp leaked out.

Half a minute later, Fu Qian walked over and kicked Wen Li.

"Ah!"

Wen Li let out a cry of shock, opened her eyes, and leaped up from the ground. Seeing the agility with which she rose, he didn't need to ask—she had definitely reached the Sixth Order.

Fu Qian felt the rage within him instantly dissipate. It had indeed been her doing. *Advancing as a Mental-type is truly a hassle!*

"Mr. Fu, thank you for your help."

Glancing around, Wen Li seemed to grasp what had happened. A look of pleasant surprise crossed her face, and she bowed deeply to Fu Qian.

Fu Qian did not respond, instead staring at her pupils, which were far deeper than before. A voice sounded in his ear:

**[Wen Li deceased. Containment failed.]**

In the next instant, the scene before him disintegrated rapidly. Fu Qian was back in the familiar warehouse.

**[Evaluation: Insanely Over the Edge]**
**[Kills: Shadow Nightmare x1]**
**[Special Kill: Scarlet Angel x1]**
**[Special Kill Reward: Tyrant’s Fist]**
**[Current SAN: 33]**
**[Play event replay?]**

*It could actually fail? My intuition was right; this mission was far more difficult than it appeared on the surface.*

Fu Qian took a breath. Instead of doing something like smashing his keyboard, he stood in place and selected the event replay. He needed to confirm one thing.

Wen Li had been standing right in front of him, and she had successfully advanced to the Sixth Order, yet the notification insisted she was dead and the containment had failed.

*Unless she wasn't Wen Li.*

Skipping past the beginning, he dragged the timeline to the very end. Fu Qian watched the Wen Li who stood up after bowing.

The face was identical, the expressions vivid and lifelike, but compared to before her advancement, there was a trace of something wicked hidden deep within her eyes.