Volume One: Entering the City Chapter Fifteen: Unstoppable Death

To speak of two threads, not long after Lu Yi and his companion settled into the demon hunter's house, Fang Hao and his group returned to Anvalo.

“That was close. If Fang Hao hadn’t noticed in time, we’d have wasted the trip.” As the newcomers disembarked, many couldn’t help voicing their relief.

Closing the car door, Deng Zhi stretched extravagantly. “Nothing ever goes smoothly. The accident happened just this afternoon, and all those natives rushed back to Anvalo tonight. What's more infuriating is that the city arranged for a Reaper attack.”

“Heh.” Fang Hao, passing by, chuckled at Deng Zhi's words.

“What’s so funny?” Deng Zhi, already annoyed that Fang Hao was favored by the experienced challengers, grew even more displeased at his laughter.

“Seventeen people, plus three natives and the protagonist—twenty-one in total. Excluding the first safe night, those twenty-one will face the Reaper’s schemes over a little more than a week. If distributed evenly, at least three people would be attacked each day. Yet the first day and night saw only one encounter. You could say it’s been easy so far.” Fang Hao spoke a truth none wished to acknowledge.

Deng Zhi, his hand on Fang Hao’s shoulder, felt the weight of so many gazes and shoved Fang Hao aside with disdain. “You talk as if it’s all so easy, but you’re one of them too.” Then, suddenly sneering, he lowered his voice, “Maybe you’ll just follow those natives when you run into the Reaper’s scheme.”

Fang Hao looked at Deng Zhi calmly, slipping his hand into his pocket to grip something—a flip phone given by the senior challenger, unmistakable even through the fabric. Fang Hao let a cold smile show. “If things go as you say, wouldn't that be interesting?”

Deng Zhi was caught off-guard, and by the time he recovered, Fang Hao had already passed him by.

Street Fifteen was a famous pedestrian street of Anvalo, the heart of a bustling commercial district. Tang Qi worked at a barbecue shop in this area.

Hurrying through the street, the group of more than ten finally arrived at the food plaza.

Stepping inside, their vision blurred by the smoky haze. “Keep your eyes peeled—everyone’s seen Tang Qi’s photo. We must find him quickly.”

They moved swiftly toward the barbecue shop they knew by name, scanning every passerby to avoid missing their target.

Fang Hao also surveyed his surroundings. Even at this late hour, the food plaza remained lively, people weaving between the shops, most storefronts more than half full.

To Fang Hao’s right, a shop owner was brushing marinade onto skewers over a grill; excess sauce dripped onto the charcoal, hissing, sending wisps of blue smoke curling into the foggy air.

Suddenly, flames flared nearby—a chef was stir-frying, and a gas cylinder sat not far from him.

Both Fang Hao and the senior challenger frowned deeply; the environment was too chaotic, danger could come from anywhere.

“Ah,” a young woman sighed, “so many skewers—I miss this.”

What seemed like a discovery drew everyone’s gaze, but it quickly dispersed; Deng Zhi shot her a look of disdain and snorted coldly.

His slow turn caused him to collide with a staff member carrying a soup pot; hot broth splashed onto the ground, making Deng Zhi howl in pain.

At that moment, a little girl carrying a plate of barbecue passed them. Some soup spilled onto her skewers, but strangely, it didn’t splatter, simply flowed off the plate’s slight tilt. Oblivious, the girl skipped away to another table.

“Hey, how can you walk like that? Wherever I move, you block me. Do you even look where you’re going?” The staff member berated Deng Zhi fiercely.

“Found him!” Aohuang declared, striding straight toward Tang Qi.

“Brother, brother!” The little girl who’d carried the skewers now ran to Tang Qi, holding out a skewer to his mouth. “Brother, eat this.”

“Danger,” Deng Zhi thought, seeing this. He shoved aside the staff member, sprinting toward them, clearing everyone in his path.

Those pushed by Deng Zhi fell onto tables, knocking dishes to the floor, shattering and scattering food everywhere. Others crashed into people, chaos erupting, one even toppling a drum of cooking oil, which gurgled out onto the ground.

Fang Hao glanced at Deng Zhi rushing past but didn’t follow, instead focusing with the senior challenger on the people around Tang Qi.

Although the iron skewer could be deadly, without external force it was unlikely to cause fatal harm—especially with Xia Rong, the healer, present.

“Hey! What are you doing? In a hurry to reincarnate? Are you blind?” A chorus of curses erupted from behind.

Fang Hao turned to observe the mess, already drawing conclusions about the operation. He stopped monitoring the dangers around Tang Qi and moved closer to the senior challenger.

Tang Qi gave a sunny smile, crouching to bite half the meat off the skewer. Just as he was about to take it from the girl, Deng Zhi snatched it away.

Tang Qi eyed Deng Zhi warily, stepping sideways to shield the girl.

Seeing Tang Qi unharmed, Deng Zhi was taken aback. He forced a smile and addressed the girl hiding behind Tang Qi. “Little one, give uncle the rest of the skewer, will you?”

The girl said nothing and ran back to her parents’ table. Across from her, a boy of the same age noticed her, waved, but she pouted and ignored him.

Scratching his head, the boy grabbed scissors and a pre-cut model from the room and ran over to the girl.

“Haha, we met just this afternoon, rode the same bus.” Deng Zhi had expected to arrive as a hero, only to find Tang Qi completely unscathed.

“Oh, it’s you.” Tang Qi remembered, prompted by Deng Zhi’s words.

“Haha, just saw you and thought I’d say hello,” Deng Zhi laughed awkwardly, inwardly annoyed—he recalled Lu Yi had said he was suited to deal with protagonists, a task he’d resisted, and now he was forced to build rapport with a minor character.

“Is that so?” Tang Qi eyed the half-eaten skewer in Deng Zhi’s hand suspiciously.

“Of course, of course.” Deng Zhi hurriedly finished the skewer and tossed the iron stick onto a nearby table.

“Found him!” Suddenly someone pointed at Deng Zhi and shouted.

A crowd surged toward him, so packed it was hard to see the ground. The boy looking for the girl was knocked over, but someone quickly helped him up. However, his scissors had disappeared.

“Yes, it’s him.” “That’s right.” People pressed in, trapping Deng Zhi at the center.

“Are you his friend?” someone asked Tang Qi.

“No, I only met him this afternoon. I don’t know where he’s from.” Tang Qi quickly distanced himself, pushing through the crowd.

“Hey.” Deng Zhi stretched out his hand anxiously, but Tang Qi ignored him, as did Aohuang and the others, their faces blank.

While the crowd argued around Deng Zhi, Tang Qi suddenly bent over, bracing himself on a table, then collapsed to the ground.

Aohuang and his group rushed to him at once. Tang Qi clutched his clothes, struggling to breathe.

“Make way, make way.” Xia Rong knelt beside Tang Qi and checked him. “He’s barely conscious, likely an allergic reaction.”

“Can you fix it?” Aohuang asked urgently.

“No, we don’t have the means. He must go to the hospital.” Xia Rong’s diagnosis troubled Aohuang.

“We saw him eat half a skewer before this—could someone have done it deliberately?” nearby diners recalled.

“That can’t be,” the shop owner hesitated, “Tang Qi never said he was allergic to anything, and he often eats here. The girl is one of his students, their relationship is good.”

“Enough talk, save him first,” a bystander urged.

“His pulse is getting weak. I need to inject adrenaline. Someone help me keep him upright, prevent food from blocking his airway,” Xia Rong called urgently.

Two people quickly stepped forward to assist her.

After stowing the syringe, Xia Rong spoke on the team channel, “Captain, we need to get him to a hospital.”

With this development, fewer bystanders stuck around, and the crowd thinned.

Just as Aohuang and the others thought things were under control, someone suddenly shouted to run, and the crowd, momentarily stunned, surged toward the exits.

Aohuang turned to see flames rising in several spots across the food plaza, spreading rapidly. Some newcomers seemed ready to flee.

“Don’t panic,” Aohuang said sternly, his spellbook appearing before him again. He was about to cast a spell to extinguish the flames when a massive explosion sounded, fire shooting skyward—the gas cylinder had blown up.

Though they were outdoors, the blast overturned nearby tables and chairs, and the stove cart beside the cylinder flew through the air toward Aohuang and his group.

Screams erupted from the newcomers.

Aohuang’s face darkened. He slapped his spellbook, causing lines of text to glow, then thrust his hands forward—an ice wall shot up.

The stove cart crashed into the ice wall with a thunderous clang. Amid the noise, Blade’s ears twitched. Without drawing his sword, he swung it through the air. Suddenly, iron skewers appeared embedded in a nearby table, sunk half a finger deep.

“We’re doomed! All of us wiped out in one go. I came to see the Reaper’s schemes, but staying in Shanel would be safer,” one newcomer wailed.

Aohuang looked grimly at the skewers. “Inside, now. It’s too chaotic out here.”

Jia Jun hesitated, then helped Tang Qi up. At that instant, a whistling sound cut through the air. Blade’s expression changed; he swung his sword at a point, the clash of metal ringing out, accompanied by a brief flash of sparks.

After the noise faded, Jia Jun felt Tang Qi twitch. Turning, he saw scissors lodged deep into Tang Qi’s forehead.

Xia Rong hurried over and glanced at him, then shook her head in dejection.

Seeing her reaction, Jia Jun's face twisted in disbelief. His hands shook as he laid Tang Qi flat on the ground.

“The attacks have stopped,” Aohuang murmured as he surveyed the area.

“Yes,” Blade nodded in agreement.

“Ah!” A middle-aged man screamed in terror, rushing up to Blade and grabbing his collar. “This is your idea of safety? This is the skill of your so-called senior challengers? You can’t even handle a pair of scissors—this is how you protect the natives? This is how you protect us?”

Blade seized the man’s wrist, twisted his head, and grinned savagely. “Any stray dog thinks it can lay a hand on me?”

Perhaps terror kept the man from letting go immediately, but as Blade’s grip tightened, pain finally made him release.

Seeing Blade about to continue, Aohuang hurriedly separated them. He addressed the disheartened newcomers, “Alright, tonight’s outcome is still acceptable. Though the native died and you were frightened, you’re all unharmed.”

When most still hung their heads, Aohuang continued, “Actually, I stopped Blade from deflecting the scissors.”