"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…
rowess are unmatched, commanding a million-strong army! Yet, the Emperor wants to depose him for the sake of a false prince? Hold on, are you throwing me into some female-oriented romance plot? How can I tolerate this? With a grand wave of his hand—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! Slander the Emperor? Very well, all of you shall die! ... The False Prince: "Although I am not the biological son, Father and Mother love me more. The throne should be mine!" The Female Lead: "Qin Xiao, you are the Emperor, and I am a commoner. If you wish to marry me, you must abdicate. Otherwise, you will never have me!" The Empress: "After we divorce, you must give me half the empire!" The Transmigrator Consort: "You worthless Emperor, why should I kneel to you? All men are equal—I advise you to be kind!" The Great General: "The enemy general is my childhood sweetheart. For her sake, I willingly abandon the frontier defenses!" The Retired Emperor: "Although Yu'er was adopted, I prefer him. Qin Xiao, you should abdicate and let him become Emperor!" ... Very well! So this is how you want to play? Facing this twisted world of female-oriented tropes, Qin Xiao grins and raises his hand to unleash—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! I am the Emperor. Why would I bother reasoning with you? Seal the gates! Leave none alive!
young master of the Shen family—a figure of immense power and wealth beyond measure—and awakened the "Destined Ultimate Villain System"! His starting scenario? Running into his icy fiancée who shows up with a mountain-descending divine doctor to break off their engagement. The divine doctor arrogantly taunts: "What does your Shen family have besides a bit of stinking money? You're not even worthy of tying Qingxue's shoelaces!" Shen Fei just smiled. He completely defied the usual script: "Fine, I agree to break off the engagement. Also, notify the finance department to withdraw all investments from the Su family." Minutes later, with its capital chain severed, the Su Group teetered on the brink of bankruptcy! The once aloof and proud ice queen CEO was thrown into utter panic. That very night, she went to Shen Fei's villa, casting aside all dignity to beg and plead desperately... From then on, in this world teeming with Sons of Destiny, Shen Fei embarked on a path of extreme dimensional suppression! A mountain-descending divine doctor? Peerless medical skills? Shen Fei: "Reporting you for practicing medicine without a license! I'll gladly take your ancient medicinal cauldron and twin sister assassins." The Crooked-Smiling Dragon King? Commanding a hundred thousand soldiers with a single order? Shen Fei: "Illegal assembly and suspected treason! Let a fleet of attack helicopters sanitize the area and teach you what the state apparatus really means!" A reborn tycoon? Knows all the golden opportunities of the next decade? Shen Fei: "A trillion in capital to reverse and pump the stock market, making you blow your margin and jump on the very first day of your rebirth!" What Chosen Ones? What bearers of Heavenly Fortune? In Shen Fei's eyes, they're all just chives (i.e., suckers/marks) waiting to be harvested! Shen Fei: "Sorry, but as the Destined Ultimate Villain, I don't play by the rules of honor. I only play the game of dimensional suppression."
't think I'm that capable, I'm just trying my best to stay alive. I've been kind all my life, never did anything bad, yet worldly suffering spared me not one bit. The human world is a nice place, but I won't come back in my next life. A kind young man, who wanted to just get by singing, but through repeated deceits and betrayals, has gone down an irredeemable path.
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
