Ji Wushuang's voice was icy, filled with an undeniable force.
Lu Qianqian's mind went completely blank.
Her ears were filled only with the drumbeat of her own heart.
And, the gunshots and screams that were terrifyingly close.
Through a gap in the stones, she saw the young mother who sold fruit.
She was huddled under her stall, clutching her two children, trembling.
A bandit had spotted them.
He sneered and walked over.
He grabbed the four- or five-year-old boy.
The mother screamed, clinging desperately to the bandit's leg, pleading.
The bandit impatiently lifted his foot and kicked her away.
Then he raised the dark muzzle of his gun, aiming it at the child's head.
Lu Qianqian's pupils contracted violently.
Fear, like a cold hand, gripped her throat.
She wanted to scream, but no sound came out.
The next second.
She sensed Ji Wushuang beside her move.
Ji Wushuang was like a leopard poised to strike.
She didn't charge out. Instead, using the stone stall as cover, she moved silently to the other side.
A dagger appeared in her hand.
She didn't charge at the bandit tormenting the mother and child.
She charged towards the nearest bandit, one who was looting jewelry.
That bandit had his back to her, completely unaware of death's approach.
Ji Wushuang closed in on his back like a ghost.
Her left hand shot out, lightning-fast, to cover his mouth.
The dagger in her right hand plunged upward from an impossible angle into his lower back, precisely piercing a kidney.
The bandit's body stiffened, then went limp before he could even cry out.
Ji Wushuang caught his falling body, preventing any sound.
Simultaneously, she pulled a pistol from the bandit's waist.
And swiftly took the spare magazine from his body, stuffing it into her own pocket.
The entire process was fluid.
So fast Lu Qianqian almost thought it was a hallucination.
Ji Wushuang didn't pause.
Using the bandit's corpse as cover, she calmly raised the pistol and took aim.
"Bang!"
A crisp gunshot.
The back of the head of the bandit about to pull the trigger and shoot the child exploded in a spray of blood.
His body pitched forward, collapsing the flimsy fruit stall.
This gunshot instantly alerted the remaining bandits.
They swung their guns around, firing wildly in Ji Wushuang's direction.
Bullets struck the stone stall, sparking.
Ji Wushuang had already rolled away the moment she fired, changing position.
She glanced towards where Lu Qianqian and Annie were, confirming they were still safe.
Then, she made a gesture towards the car where Jacob was hiding.
Jacob understood immediately.
He suddenly started the car.
The engine roared.
The vehicle, like a crazed rhinoceros, charged towards the market's other exit.
The bandits' attention was instantly diverted.
They swung their guns around, firing at the car.
Then, in that moment of distraction.
Ji Wushuang moved again.
She shot out from behind cover like a black phantom.
The pistol in her hand fired a series of well-spaced shots.
Bang! Bang!
Two bandits fell.
The final bandit finally reacted.
In panic, he swung his gun around, trying to aim at Ji Wushuang.
But it was too late.
Ji Wushuang was faster.
She raised the muzzle slightly and pulled the trigger without hesitation.
"Bang!"
The bullet pierced his forehead with precision.
His gun-raising motion froze mid-air, then he toppled like a felled tree.
The entire market fell into a deathly silence.
Then, gradually, crying began.
First suppressed, then wailing.
Ji Wushuang stood amidst the chaotic scene of corpses.
A few drops of warm blood were spattered on her.
Her expression showed no change.
Lu Qianqian lay on the ground, motionless.
Her eyes were wide open.
Staring at the hellish scene before her.
At the young mother who had just been smiling at her, now lying in a pool of blood.
She had been shot in the chest.
Probably hit by a stray bullet during the bandits' wild shooting.
Her eyes were still open, gazing towards the sky, but all light had left them.
In her arms, she still held the infant tightly.
The four- or five-year-old boy was unharmed.
He stared blankly at his dead mother.
Not crying, not making a sound.
As if he didn't yet understand what had happened.
Lu Qianqian's stomach could no longer hold back.
She rolled over violently and began to vomit.
She threw up the bread and water she had eaten that morning.
Finally, only yellow bile remained.
Annie's face was also pale.
But clearly, Annie was no stranger to this kind of situation.
She took out her walkie-talkie and called the aid station in a trembling voice.
"Center, center, this is Annie! We're at the market, under attack! Multiple casualties! Requesting backup! Repeat, requesting backup!"
Ji Wushuang walked over.
She glanced at Lu Qianqian, who was vomiting, her face ashen.
She didn't comfort Lu Qianqian.
She simply handed her a bottle of water.
"Rinse your mouth."
She said calmly.
"Then, stand up."
"This place isn't safe."
Lu Qianqian didn't take the water.
She just looked at Ji Wushuang with an indescribable expression.
In that look was fear, shock, confusion.
And a dependence she herself hadn't even realized.
"You... you killed them."
Her voice was like a mosquito's, tiny and trembling.
"Yes."
Ji Wushuang answered with a single word.
Lu Qianqian fell silent.
She looked at the bodies lying on the ground.
At the dead mother.
At the boy who had become an orphan.
Her mind flashed to words her elder brother, Lu Chenyuan, had once said to her.
"A person's nobility never lies in how much they possess, but in how much they understand, and how much they take on."
She hadn't understood before.
She thought taking on responsibility meant doing volunteer work in the community.
Was donating some money and supplies.
Now, she seemed to understand a little.
True responsibility is what you choose to do when faced with darkness like this.
Is it, like Annie, tending to the wounded?
Or, like Ji Wushuang, using killing to stop killing.
Or, like herself, capable of nothing but vomiting and fear.
An overwhelming sense of powerlessness washed over her.
She pushed herself up from the ground, swaying unsteadily.
She didn't look at the bodies again.
She walked over to the stunned boy.
She took off her own jacket and laid it over the young mother, who was already cold.
Then, she crouched down.
Reached out, wanting to hug the boy.
But the boy shrank back like a frightened rabbit.
His eyes were filled with fear and distrust of this world.
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.
ions, keeping it grounded and realistic】 After quitting his job, office worker Su Yang accidentally binds with the "Enjoy Life System." As the name suggests, simply by indulging in life's pleasures, he can earn random rewards from the system—no need to spend money on beautiful women or grovel before anyone. Just enjoy, and the money follows, making it all about effortless fun. The system comes with a scanning feature, allowing him to establish a favorability bond with women rated 85 points or above. Every 20-point increase in favorability unlocks additional rewards. After suffering through over twenty years of hardship, Su Yang trembles with excitement, his dull eyes suddenly gleaming with newfound hope. "Enjoy life? How hard could that be?"
'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.
uld barely embark on the path to immortality. Just as he was on the verge of death, his golden finger awakened. No matter whether it was poison, drained blood and vital energy, diminished lifespan, or any other physical debuff caused by paying a price—once midnight passed, everything would be refreshed. From then on, whenever someone asked what kind of person Chu Ran was, the answer was simple: Forbidden arts that other cultivators dared not learn? Chu Ran would learn them. Prices that even demonic cultivators dared not pay? Chu Ran would pay them. Lifespan that even righteous cultivators dared not burn? Chu Ran would burn it. All the blood essence in his body? Take it. Want both his hands and feet? He would cut them off and send them to you. You say he’s finished? He wasn’t built to sit idle. You think he’s gone mad? No—he was simply waiting for midnight. From that day onward, Chu Ran would respect neither Heaven nor Earth, bow to neither gods nor ghosts. He had only one wish: For midnight to arrive a little sooner.
