"Second Master, what is this?" The subordinates looked puzzled.
These things were truly strange—they had never seen anything like them before.
Wang Ba: "Human skin masks. The gang leader prepared them. Once we infiltrate, you’ll replace people who look identical."
"Human skin masks?"
The subordinates frowned.
Isn’t this the kind of thing you only see in TV dramas?
Is this even reliable?
Are we sure we won’t be spotted immediately?
Hesitantly, the subordinates put on the masks.
"This…"
They stared at each other, eyes widening in shock.
They looked so realistic!
Just by appearance alone, no one could tell they were wearing masks!
Holy shit!
Damn, does the gang leader have divine help or something? Or is he like those protagonists in novels with some kind of system space? How does he have everything?
Wang Ba was equally stunned.
As expected, anything the gang leader provides is extraordinary.
With these masks, how could they possibly lose?
Wang Ba finally relaxed.
He raised his voice and asked, "I gave you all a notebook earlier. Did you memorize every word in it? If you forget, it could cost you your life—or even jeopardize the gang leader’s entire plan."
"We memorized it."
The Golden Dragon Gang subordinates understood the gravity of the situation and had studied diligently.
To be thorough, Wang Ba questioned each of them individually, ensuring they had memorized every detail about the identities they were to assume—including personalities and key figures.
Now that he had nothing left to worry about, he declared loudly, "Let’s move out!"
The group marched toward the territory of the Mourning Organization.
A few guards were patrolling outside.
"You four, go ahead," Wang Ba ordered.
"Yes."
The four subordinates stepped forward.
The Mourning Organization guards frowned in confusion. "Lin Tian, Long Gao, Chen Jian, Wang Hai—when did you guys leave?"
"The boss sent us out on an errand earlier. You probably weren’t around when we left, so you didn’t see us," the Golden Dragon Gang members replied casually.
"Oh, that makes sense," the Mourning Organization guards nodded.
"Since you’re back, go report to the boss."
"No rush." One of the Golden Dragon Gang members pulled out a bottle of wine.
"1962 Lafite. Want a taste?"
"But we’re still on patrol," the Mourning Organization guards said, eyes glued to the bottle, swallowing hard.
A 1962 Lafite was incredibly rare.
"Relax, this place is so well-hidden, no one’s going to find us. And it’s just one glass—no big deal," the Golden Dragon Gang member persuaded.
"True."
The Golden Dragon Gang member took out disposable cups they had prepared in advance and poured the wine.
The four identities they were impersonating were known for their unwavering loyalty to the Mourning Organization, so the guards had no reason to suspect anything. They raised their cups and drank.
"Damn, this really is a fine wine!"
"Wait, why do you guys carry disposable cups around?"
Before they could finish, a wave of dizziness hit them.
"Why… why is my head spinning?" They swayed unsteadily.
Was the alcohol really this strong?
"Let me tell you why we brought these cups," the Golden Dragon Gang member grinned. "To drug you and make our job easier."
They had timed the drug perfectly—no chance of these guys figuring out their real identities.
"You… you…"
The Mourning Organization guards collapsed unconscious before they could finish.
The Golden Dragon Gang members quickly tied them up, gagged them with cloth, and dragged them to a hidden spot.
With the sedative they’d ingested, they wouldn’t wake up anytime soon.
As soon as they were out of sight, the four Golden Dragon Gang members seamlessly took their places and headed inside.
The guards at the main entrance frowned. "Didn’t the boss assign you to patrol outside? Why are you back?"
"He called us back. Wants us guarding inside now," the Golden Dragon Gang members replied.
"Got it."
The Mourning Organization guards opened the gate.
The moment they stepped inside, the Golden Dragon Gang members covered their mouths and knocked them out.
The Mourning Organization’s base was covered in surveillance—no blind spots.
But before the Golden Dragon Gang made their move, Lin Xuan had already disabled the cameras. Their actions went completely unnoticed.
Once the Golden Dragon Gang members replaced the guards, they swung the gates wide open, allowing the rest of their gang to waltz in.
Their strategy was simple: use the Mourning Organization members’ identities to approach others, drug them, and replace them with lookalikes.
Bit by bit, the Golden Dragon Gang infiltrated deeper.
Everything was going smoothly.
Wang Ba marveled at how effective these masks were.
Meanwhile, on a plane…
Su Hua’s voice was icy. "My SIM card."
"Yes."
Jiang Qing obediently handed it over.
In truth, the card wasn’t broken—she had just tricked Su Hua into thinking it was.
Su Hua inserted the card into her phone.
Within seconds, multiple calls and messages flooded in—all from the Mourning Organization, informing her that Lin Xuan was in their hands.
Her chilling gaze locked onto Jiang Qing again.
Jiang Qing couldn’t meet her eyes.
Madam Su’s glare was terrifying…
Beyond her worry for Lin Xuan’s safety, Su Hua was gripped by a deeper fear.
Zhao Long had mentioned finding someone who could restore memories.
It had been so long—had Xuan already regained his?
The thought made her clench her fists, her eyes darkening with fury.
"Madam Su, perhaps we should focus on how to deal with the Mourning Organization," Jiang Qing suggested nervously.
"If anything goes wrong this time… both you and Young Master Lin could be in grave danger."
The words snapped Su Hua out of her thoughts. She pressed slender fingers to her temples.
Right. She couldn’t let emotions cloud her judgment.
Xuan was waiting for her to save him.
She began strategizing.
If the Mourning Organization had revealed Lin Xuan’s location to her, they were undoubtedly prepared.
She needed a flawless plan to rescue him…
close your eyes and open them again, only to find yourself transmigrated into the role of a villainous male supporting character. Readers familiar with urban wish-fulfillment novels know that it is only through the relentless antics of the villainous male supporting character that the plot between the male and female leads can progress. As the villainous male supporting character, Long Aotian not only has to bully the female lead, harass the second female lead, and flirt with the third female lead, but he also has to go all out to antagonize the male lead. In the end, when his body is discovered, he is still clutching half a moldy fried dough stick in his hand. Fully aware of the plot, Long Aotian is determined to change his fate, starting with the female lead! In the beginning, the female lead lacks confidence: "Big brother, I hope I didn't scare you?" In the middle, the female lead treads carefully: "Brother Long, please don't hit me, okay?" Later on, the female lead becomes coquettishly clingy: "Aotian, it's time to pay the 'public grain' tonight." Long Aotian's legs go weak, and he feels like crying: "I taught you to be thick-skinned, not shameless!"
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"
