Intelligence Coffin

The motel corridor was long and dark. The carpet absorbed all sound, and only the green light of the distant emergency exit provided faint illumination.

Chen Guan gripped his scythe, walking step by step toward the stairs.

The bullet screen comments refreshed frantically.

[Don't make me beg you, don't go, Brother Coffin. It's full of people out there.]

[Why isn't Long Ao keeping up? Is he letting him go to his death alone?]

[It's like this again, dealing with danger by himself. He doesn't have the destiny of a protagonist, yet he's taken the protagonist's script. Every time, he faces the strong.]

[He's just a student! Why is everyone targeting him? Is his superpower some kind of absolute aggro magnet?]

The text scrolling across his retinas brought a continuously rising popularity value. Good. The audience's emotions were perfectly in place; the pre-show atmosphere had been successfully built up.

He didn't take the elevator, opting for the stairwell instead.

It was better suited for hiding, better suited for him.

The motel lobby was completely empty. The chair behind the front desk was overturned on the floor; clearly, the clerk had gotten wind of the news beforehand and fled.

Chen Guan pushed open the glass door, and a gust of cold wind hit his face.

Across the street, three dark figures walked out of an alley. They spread out, faintly sealing off the motel entrance.

They weren't wearing masks, but judging from their clothes, they bore the insignia of the Embrace of Flesh and Blood.

"The item is on you," the leading bald man spoke. He licked his lips, his greedy gaze sweeping back and forth over Chen Guan. "Hand it over, and I'll give you a quick death."

Chen Guan didn't speak. He simply brought out his scythe and held it horizontally in front of him.

"You're courting death!"

The bald man lost his patience. With a wave of his hand, the two companions behind him charged forward simultaneously.

Chen Guan's spiritual energy quietly spread out.

The newly added stat points made his control over illusions much smoother. Though not a qualitative leap, it was more than enough.

The vision of the two men charging at the front suddenly changed.

The figure of Chen Guan, who was originally standing in place, suddenly blurred and split into four, swinging scythes at them from four different directions.

"It's an illusion! Watch out!"

The two hurriedly tried to block, and in doing so, ended up attacking each other's vitals directly.

What they saw were Chen Guan's phantoms.

Squelch.

The sound of blades piercing flesh.

One cultist looked in disbelief at the sharp knife thrust into his abdomen; the one holding the knife was his companion.

And his companion was also staring in horror at the person who had pierced his shoulder.

The real Chen Guan had already appeared in front of the bald man.

The bald man's pupils shrank. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, the flesh and blood writhing beneath his skin, instantly expanding a size larger.

Bang!

The back of the scythe smashed against his arms, emitting a muffled thud.

The bald man stumbled back a few steps, his arms numb and his bones groaning. He stared at Chen Guan in horror. How could this kid carrying a coffin be so strong? Wasn't he an illusionist?

Chen Guan didn't give him time to think. Twisting his body, the scythe drew an arc and precisely struck the backs of the necks of the two cultists still struggling in the illusion.

Without even a grunt, the two went limp and collapsed to the ground, sent off to see their makers.

"You..." The bald man looked at his companions lying on the ground, cold sweat seeping from his forehead. He realized he had kicked a steel plate.

The horror in the bald man's eyes could not be concealed.

How could an illusionist possess such strength and speed? The intel was completely wrong.

Chen Guan didn't give him a chance to gather his thoughts. Pushing off with his feet, his body glided close to the ground, the handle of the scythe thrusting straight at the opponent's lower body.

This strike was fast and insidious, completely out of line with the fighting style he had shown earlier.

[Holy crap, such a dirty fighting style. I like it.]

[This is true combat. Forget all the flashy moves; a fatal one-hit strike is the absolute truth.]

The popularity value rose another notch.

Chen Guan's heart remained unruffled. The essence of close combat was to dispatch the enemy using the least amount of effort.

The bald man's reaction wasn't slow. He forcefully twisted his body and raised his knee to block.

Thud!

His knee collided with the handle, and he let out a muffled groan, his entire leg going numb.

Using the recoil force, Chen Guan twisted his body in mid-air, the scythe swinging upward with the momentum, the cold blade gliding right against the bald man's neck.

The hairs all over the bald man's body stood on end. He didn't dare to move a muscle. A piercing chill came from the skin on his neck, and he had no doubt that if the opponent applied even a fraction more force with his wrist, his head would part ways with his body.

"Regarding the promotion ritual, I want to know all the details."

Chen Guan's voice was very steady, devoid of any emotion.

"I... I don't know anything!" the bald man shouted, fierce in appearance but cowardly at heart.

"Is it because your rank is too low?"

The hand holding the scythe pressed down slightly.

Slash.

A thin line of blood appeared on the bald man's neck. It wasn't deep, but it was enough to make him feel the imminent approach of death.

"I'll ask one more time. Location, time, number of participants, and the Cult Master's strength."

"Just kill me! The Cult Master will avenge me!" The bald man gritted his teeth, attempting to display his loyalty.

Chen Guan withdrew his scythe.

The bald man was taken aback, thinking the other party had been intimidated by his backbone, and he just let out a sigh of relief in his heart.

The next second, Chen Guan kicked him right in the back of the knee.

Crack.

The crisp sound of shattering bone was exceptionally clear in the silent night.

The bald man let out a miserable shriek and fell to one knee, cold sweat instantly soaking his back.

Chen Guan looked down at him from above, aiming the tip of the scythe at his other intact leg.

"Last three seconds."

[Ruthless, too ruthless. Brother Coffin looks so handsome when he's decisive to kill.]

[This is the demeanor of a powerhouse. You can't show even a bit of mercy to your enemies.]

[He must be like this because he's too worried about the person in the coffin. This is the first time they've been separated for so long, which is why he's so impatient and wants to solve the problem as quickly as possible. Our little Brother Coffin is usually the gentlest.]

Chen Guan glanced at the bullet screen, highly commending the audience's ability to overthink.

"I'll talk! I'll talk!" The bald man completely broke down.

Physical pain was far more torturous than the threat of death.

"The ritual is in three days at the Queen Casino. That's one of our strongholds. The Cult Master is Lord Blood Butcher, with Tier 8 strength. He will bring twenty core cultists to participate in the ritual, all around Tier 6 strength."

After the bald man finished speaking, he carefully tried to observe Chen Guan's expression.

However, before he could even see that face, he had already seen his own shoes.

His head fell to the ground. Chen Guan didn't linger for a moment, turning around and walking away.