Amatalas

Boom! Boom! Boom! Gali gei gei!

Deafening heavy bass pounded against the chest, while multicolored disco balls spun on the ceiling, slicing faces—whether excited or numb—into colorful fragments.

The air was a thick mixture of alcohol, perfume, and hormones.

This was a hunting ground.

The boundary between hunter and prey was blurred, their roles liable to swap at any moment.

In the corner of the bar, a woman quietly stirred the ice in her glass. The whiskey took on an amber luster under the lights. She took off her sunglasses and casually tossed them aside.

The most striking thing about her was her unnatural pupils.

White tinged with gold, like molten gold poured over a sheet of ice—bewitching yet freezing.

Even the bartender, who was used to seeing all kinds of beautiful women, couldn't help but steal glances at her while wiping the glasses.

This woman possessed the sharp, three-dimensional facial features typical of Westerners, yet carried the unique, reserved temperament of the East. The two contradictory aesthetics blended flawlessly within her.

She was like a vortex, sitting there quietly, yet drawing the attention of the entire room.

Many men were itching to make a move, but upon meeting those eyes and weighing their own English vocabulary, they quickly backed down.

"That chick is gorgeous, mixed-race, right?"

"Duh, look at those eyes, those contours. Absolutely stunning. Too bad she looks like a seasoned pro. Country bumpkins like us would just be throwing ourselves away."

"Why don't you just admit you're uncultured?"

Finally, a muscle-bound man in a tight shirt parted the crowd.

With slicked-back hair and a flashy watch on his wrist, he walked straight up to the woman, leaned in, and began to speak in a low voice with fluent English.

The woman listened, her face devoid of expression, only occasionally swirling her glass.

A moment later, amidst the jealous glares of the onlookers, the woman set down her glass and stood up with the muscle man, heading toward the bar's exit.

"Damn! That bastard actually scored?"

"See that? That's the victory of an educated man. If I had known, I would have memorized New Concept English even if it killed me."

"It's not too late to learn now," a guy nearby chimed in, winking. "Find a one-on-one private tutor, I guarantee you'll make rapid progress."

"Where do I find one?"

"In bed, idiot!"

"Badass!"

Stepping out of the bar, the cool night breeze blew away a bit of the man's drunken haze, but only fueled the burning fire in his heart.

He leaned smugly against a street railing, one hand restlessly slipping onto the woman's waist.

"Your place, or mine?"

The woman didn't dodge. Instead, she reached out a finger and gently hooked the button of his shirt. Her fingertip was ice-cold.

"I like it thrilling."

Her voice was soft and seductive, tickling his eardrums like a feather. "Let's find somewhere secluded, how about that?"

The man's eyes instantly erupted with a wolfish gleam. Almost impatiently, he grabbed the woman's hand and took large strides toward the shadows.

They crossed two streets and plunged into a pitch-black alleyway.

There were no streetlights here. The air was thick with a damp, musty smell. The distant noise was completely cut off, making it so quiet they could only hear each other's breathing.

Unable to hold back any longer, the man shoved the woman against the cold wall and smashed his alcohol-scented lips against hers.

He thought the passion was just beginning.

However, the very next second, the smile froze on his face.

An irresistible, massive suction force came from the woman's mouth, like a bottomless black hole, frantically devouring everything he had.

The man's mind went completely blank. He wanted to struggle, to pull back, but found that his strength was draining at an astonishing rate. Those hands that had previously rested on his waist were now like iron pincers, firmly pinning him in place.

In just a dozen seconds.

The arrogant muscle man from moments ago now collapsed like a puddle of mud. The bulging muscles beneath his tight shirt rapidly deflated, and the light in his eyes completely dissipated, leaving only endless emptiness.

He still had one breath left.

The woman let go of him, allowing him to slide down the wall to the ground.

She wiped the corner of her mouth, her gold-white pupils flashing with a satisfied glow in the darkness.

Leaving him with a breath wasn't out of mercy.

She just didn't want those sharp-nosed hounds from Yanhuang Awakening to catch her scent so quickly.

"I thought he would be delicious, but he was still lacking a bit."

Suddenly, the unhurried sound of footsteps echoed from the entrance of the alley, stepping as if directly onto the tip of one's heart.

The woman's expression changed. She suddenly hoisted the unconscious man up, letting him lean limply against the wall, trying to fake the illusion that he was just drunk.

"Stop pretending, I saw everything. I didn't expect something like the Star-Sucking Great Art to actually exist."

Hearing this voice, the woman stiffened. The next second, she decisively let go.

With a thud, the man collapsed into a heap on the ground once more.

Without looking back, she dashed toward the other end of the alley, her figure as fast as a phantom!

However, she hadn't even sprinted ten meters.

Bang!

With a muffled thud, the woman seemed to crash into an invisible wall of air. She was forcefully bounced back, stumbling a few steps before steadying herself.

At the alley entrance, Lin Mo's figure slowly walked in, the moonlight stretching his shadow incredibly long.

"I didn't make a move on you at the amusement park this morning, not because I didn't notice you."

Lin Mo's voice was calm, as if stating an insignificant matter.

"I simply wanted to spend the day playing with the kids, and I didn't want trash like you ruining my mood."

The woman slowly turned around, her back pressed tightly against that invisible wall. There was no way to retreat.

She raised her head, those gold-white pupils gleaming weirdly in the dark, locking dead onto Lin Mo.

"You..."

A flash of light darted across her pupils.

But Lin Mo didn't even blink, as if that ocular jutsu capable of affecting the mind was nothing more than nighttime neon lights.

"No one has ever been able to face my ocular jutsu head-on!"

Seeing this, the woman couldn't help but let out a low chuckle. Her voice revealed a crazy confidence, but the words coming out of her mouth were fluent Japanese.

However, Lin Mo's next words made the smile on her face freeze instantly.

"Oh? Is that so?"

Lin Mo replied leisurely in a Japanese that was even more pure and authentic than hers.

"That just means you haven't encountered my Mangekyou Sharingan."

He gently raised his eyes. Within his pitch-black irises, three tomoe slowly spun.

"Amaterasu!"

A low shout.

In reality, it had no effect; he was just shouting it for fun.

Besides, the woman had already lowered her head and charged at Lin Mo.

Between her palms, a heart-palpitating mass of energy condensed, emitting ominous fluctuations. It was the exact same power she had infused into the rollercoaster track pillars that morning.

This power was enough to instantly cause a living person's genetic chain to completely disintegrate, turning them into a puddle of bloody water.

Facing this fatal strike, Lin Mo remained standing in place, not even shifting his feet an inch.

He merely brought his hands together in front of his chest at a leisurely pace.

"Pressure Release: Who Repaired The Dam!"