Luo Wei quietly approached the gang members lurking in the darkness. By eavesdropping on their conversation, he confirmed what the police chief had suspected—this group was no ordinary underground gang. They were planning something big, even attempting to summon something, and whatever it was, its origins sounded anything but simple.
Once their idle chatter no longer yielded useful information, Luo Wei activated his 【Shadow Stride】 ability, moving swiftly and silently behind one of the gang members. Every high-ranking vampire was a master assassin by nature, and Luo Wei was no exception. His blood blade slit the man’s throat in an instant, effortlessly taking down the first target.
The second and third members proved slightly more perceptive. Perhaps sensing the chilling aura of death, their hairs stood on end as they whirled around—only to see a ghastly face materializing from the shadows. Luo Wei, appearing like a phantom, loomed before them.
“Enemy—!” They raised their guns in panic.
But before they could finish, two heads, eyes wide with terror, were cleanly severed and thudded to the ground.
After swiftly dispatching five gang members, Luo Wei deliberately spared one. The last man stared in shock at Luo Wei’s sudden appearance, fumbling to fire a warning shot—only for his gun to be knocked away. He turned and bolted deeper into the sewers.
Luo Wei watched as the man sprinted frantically, his body hunched forward, arms and legs pumping at an unnatural speed. But before he could escape too far, the witch who had been lying in wait made her move.
Tilis flashed in front of him in an instant. With a mere gesture, the gang member froze in place.
By the time Luo Wei and Ophelia approached, the man was already under the influence of dark magic—his eyes vacant, mouth slightly agape, his entire body stiff like a puppet.
“Ask whatever you need to,” Tilis reminded Luo Wei.
“That’s quite the handy trick,” Ophelia remarked, impressed. “Does this dark magic work on anyone?”
“Not always,” Tilis replied, glancing at Luo Wei. “It depends on the target’s willpower. When I tried it on him, I could control his body but couldn’t extract his thoughts.”
“Oh…” Ophelia nodded knowingly, then smirked at Luo Wei. “Well, that’s a shame. I wouldn’t have minded learning it.”
Luo Wei felt a chill. “Why would you need that? Isn’t mind-reading enough?”
“I never said it was for you,” Ophelia teased. “Why so nervous? Guilty conscience?”
Luo Wei scoffed. “What do I have to feel guilty about? Go ahead and learn it.”
He rolled his eyes and turned back to the gang member, lowering his voice for interrogation.
“How do you plan to assassinate the emperor? What is your leader Fly trying to summon?”
The moment the question left his lips, the gang member began trembling uncontrollably.
“Him… Him…”
He didn’t answer. Under the dark magic’s influence, he seemed torn between speaking the name and an overwhelming subconscious terror.
“Talk,” Tilis commanded coldly, intensifying the spell.
“Aah… Aah…!” The man clutched his head, writhing in agony.
Finally, he spoke.
“Ghouls… ghouls…”
“Ghouls?” Luo Wei and Ophelia exchanged glances.
“Why summon ghouls?” Ophelia frowned. “Does it have a name?”
Tilis tightened her control.
The gang member groaned, his mind slipping further into delirium, until he uttered a single name.
“Mordiggian…”
“The Ghoul King.”
Tilis released the spell, and the man collapsed to the ground, his eyes still vacant, his body limp like a broken doll.
“Oops, my bad,” Tilis said apologetically. “I might’ve overdone it. He’s… not all there anymore.”
“That name sounds familiar…” She glanced at Luo Wei and Ophelia. “The Ghoul King… Another Outer God?”
“Is the Night Crow Gang entirely made up of ghouls?” Ophelia mused.
Luo Wei, well-versed in supernatural beings, nodded. “The ones I killed were all ghoul hybrids.”
“Even so, summoning an Outer God isn’t easy,” Ophelia said skeptically. “There are plenty of hybrids in the world…”
“We’ll figure it out once we find their hideout and capture their leader,” Tilis said dismissively. “Might even catch that envoy they mentioned. The one supplying them with weapons—probably the Church’s doing.”
After a brief discussion, Luo Wei decided to move immediately. He approached one of the corpses, studying its features before his own face and body began to shift.
Soon, Luo Wei had perfectly transformed into the dead man’s likeness. After swapping clothes, the disguise was complete—Helena’s mimicry ability was ideal for infiltration.
For Tilis, who dabbled in all sorts of dark magic, shapeshifting was even simpler. A whispered incantation, and her appearance—clothes and all—morphed into another gang member’s.
“Hmm, looks convincing,” she said, satisfied. “Let’s go.”
“Wait…” Luo Wei turned to Ophelia, who stood there looking lost. “What about her? What’s she going to do?”
Tilis blinked in confusion. “Ophelia, you can’t do this?”
“I—I can!” Ophelia snapped defensively. “Who says I can’t?”
She raised a hand, summoning the power of the Dreamlands to warp reality. The surroundings twisted, the air humming with turbulent energy.
“No, no, no!” Tilis quickly intervened.
She glanced down the sewer tunnels. “That’s way too flashy! You’ll get us caught instantly. And ghouls are drawn to the Dreamlands—you’d be like a walking beacon.”
“Then what am I supposed to do?” Ophelia grumbled.
“I told you not to come down here,” Tilis teased. “Now you’re just dead weight.”
Ophelia huffed, her expression sour. As much as she hated to admit it, her abilities weren’t suited for stealth or infiltration…
"Alright, alright, let's hurry." Luo Wei immediately saw through Tilis's little scheme and sighed helplessly. "A marvelous witch like you must have plenty of magical tools—surely there's something suitable for disguise? Hand it over quickly."
Tilis giggled. "Fine, fine."
She rummaged through her magical pouch for a moment before handing Ophelia a metal mask. "Put this on. It's engraved with a high-level transformation spell that lasts a long time."
"You had something like this all along and didn’t say anything?" Ophelia scoffed as she took the mask.
"If I’d handed it over sooner, how could I have enjoyed watching you struggle?" Tilis grinned. "Remember, between this and sealing your ancestor, you owe me another favor now."
"You witch…" Ophelia narrowed her eyes. "What exactly are you after?"
"Why, of course—!" Tilis's enthusiasm flared up. "To build a wonderful new world together! Listen, I’ve got this plan—"
Luo Wei, already exasperated, cut off the witch’s preaching and yanked her back.
"Enough, enough! Let’s get moving!"
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?"
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.
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.”
nto another world, I bought a slave for the first time, never expecting the silver wolf girl to be so cute... Lin Feng: I know it's cold, but you don't have to sneak into my bed! Yuna: Just sharing body warmth, if you dare do anything naughty, I'll definitely...
