The Hunt Begins: The Death Leader's Shock

Two days later.

At 10 PM, the streets of the Western Nation were still brightly lit.

In the F District—

Bang! Bang! Bang—!!

"Fuck!"

"All you bastards from the Demon God gang, go to hell!"

"This territory belongs to us, the Borla Fort!"

"Oh God, damn it, I’ve been hit!"

"Jack, hold on a little longer! Reinforcements are coming!"

The fierce exchange of gunfire echoed incessantly.

Ever since martial arts information was made public and the announcement of talent testing in March, gangs across the Western Nation had grown restless, launching territorial wars left and right.

The larger their turf now, the greater the rewards they’d receive upon joining the Grim Reaper Organization as martial artists.

Residents of every neighborhood were suffering under the chaos of gang warfare.

Bang! Bang! Bang!!

"Fuck, these Demon God bastards have insane firepower."

A Borla Fort member crouched behind cover, his face twisted in anger. "Their weapons are too advanced. They must’ve been holding back in past fights."

"Damn it, where are those reinforcements you promised?"

"Reinforcements..."

One member’s eyes suddenly lit up as he pointed excitedly at the sky. "They’re here! Reinforcements are here!"

"Hey! Over here! Help us!"

Everyone followed his gaze upward.

There, hovering in the air, stood several men clad in blood-red robes, their auras thick with the stench of blood. Their eyes gleamed with cruel indifference.

"Another gang war? How tedious."

"Stop complaining. The leader sent us to recruit these gang members."

"Once we’re done, we’ll strengthen our Grim Reaper Organization!"

"Fine. Leave the ones below to me."

With that, the man on the right formed a hand seal and muttered, "Blood Slaughter Curse!!"

The moment the words left his lips—

Bang! Bang! Bang!!!

"Argh—!!"

Every member of the Demon God gang exploded into clouds of blood.

Having accomplished their task, the Grim Reaper Organization members swiftly vanished.

"Hiss!"

"Oh God! Is that what martial artists can do?"

"That was insane! Was that cultivation?"

"No, that was martial arts."

"Jack, who the hell were they?"

The Borla Fort members peeked out from cover, their faces alight with excitement.

Unbelievable! Just a few hand gestures, and the Demon God gang was wiped out!

Jack, a black man, flashed a bright grin. "Haha! That’s the Grim Reaper Organization—the strongest civilian martial force in the Western Nation!"

"Come March, our gang will officially join them!"

"No way!"

"But Jack, isn’t there another group called the Night Organization? Didn’t they vow to destroy the Grim Reaper Organization?"

At this, Jack scoffed and patted the speaker’s shoulder.

"Harry, you’re underestimating the Grim Reaper and overestimating the Night."

"The Grim Reaper will be the only civilian martial force in the Western Nation. Think about it—an organization backed by the entire nation’s resources. How could it lose to the Night?"

"You serious, Jack? What about the other martial factions in the Western Nation?"

"Tch. They’ll all be absorbed into the Grim Reaper!"

"Oh my God! We’re surpassing the ancient martial world!"

...

...

The headquarters of the Grim Reaper Organization lay in a desolate, uninhabited wasteland.

Surrounded by towering mountains and dense forests, its centerpiece was a colossal black fortress.

The walls were constructed of indestructible black alloy, wrapped in a crimson formation—the Grim Reaper’s Blood Fiend Formation!!

Anyone who hadn’t cultivated the Grim Reaper’s techniques would find their strength suppressed upon entering, their life force slowly drained until they collapsed and died.

Atop the fortress, spires rose like scythes piercing the heavens.

The tallest of them housed the organization’s leader.

Along the fortress walls, several members patrolled under the cover of night.

"Damn this weather keeps getting colder. To think I used to be a gang leader—now I’m stuck on gate duty."

"Quit whining. As new recruits, we’re lucky to even get this."

"Yeah, Blake. Others got sent out to harvest blood essence."

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Just then, several figures streaked across the sky.

The patrol members looked up in awe.

"Now those are the Grim Reaper’s elite—core disciples who can use blood arts to fly!"

"When will we reach that level?"

"Hey, speaking of which, have you heard about the Night King? The guy who swore to destroy us?"

"Yeah, what a joke. Even if he comes, the Blood Fiend Formation will suppress his power!"

"Hahaha! With this formation active, even a fly would turn to blood mist!"

The moment the words left his mouth—

Hum! Hum! Hum!!

Tendrils of black smoke slowly coalesced behind the patrol members.

In the next instant, the smoke solidified into hands that clamped onto their necks and mouths—then twisted violently.

Crack!!!

With muffled groans, their heads spun 180 degrees.

The smoke then gathered, revealing over a dozen figures.

Shitou stood beside the corpses, scanning the fortress’s layout before locking onto the tallest spire.

"Proceed as planned," he said coldly.

"Eliminate... the remaining pests for our lord."

"Yes!"

With that, some members melted into the shadows while others remained.

Shitou turned to one of them.

"Ling Fa, take the formation team and dismantle the Blood Fiend Formation. It does suppress our cultivation."

"We must eliminate all variables for our lord."

Ling Fa—the formation master Gu Yan had poached from the Martial Arts Department—glanced at the crimson formation enveloping the fortress and smirked.

"Tch. Just an ancient formation. Once I find the core, it’ll crumble easily. Give me fifteen minutes."

He then smirked at Shitou and the others.

"Try not to die while I’m at it, kids."

With that, his form dissolved into smoke.

Watching him leave, a petite figure in a white oni mask—Little Bai—grumbled, "Shitou, that guy’s way too arrogant. Just because the lord favors him?"

Shitou shook his head. "Don’t overthink it. Ling Fa is the best formation master in our Hope’s Light. The lord’s admiration is justified."

He turned to the others.

"Little Bai, everyone—remember the lord’s orders. Our mission is to clear out the Grim Reaper’s outer pests."

"Thirty enemies total, five of them grandmasters. But our targets are only those below that level."

"Got it."

"Understood."

After confirming the plan, Shitou took one last look at the spire before vanishing into the night with the others.

The Night Organization's night raid mission... officially begins!

At the same time.

At the highest spire where the leader of the Grim Reaper Organization resides.

A burly man stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, puffing on a cigar.

This man was none other than the leader of the Grim Reaper Organization, Dick Hobbert.

With an angry expression, he roared, "What? Telling me to be careful of the Night Organization?"

"Do you even know who the hell I am?!"

"Listen here, Minister Blake!! If you've got the guts, have the Night King himself come to me!! Let's see what he's capable of!"

"A hunting notice?! I wasn’t raised to be scared of threats!"

Click!

Dick furiously hung up the phone.

The Martial Arts Department of the Western Nation had actually warned him to be wary of the Night Organization's infiltration?

Hah! What a joke!

The Blood Curse Array of his Grim Reaper Organization had been passed down since ancient times!

Any creature that hadn’t cultivated the Grim Reaper Organization’s techniques would, at best, have their power suppressed—or at worst, be reduced to a bloody mist that nourished the array.

A mere Night King? Sneaking into this array without a sound?

What an international joke!

Thinking this, Dick habitually stood by the window, admiring the full view of his organization.

What he loved most was this godlike feeling of looking down upon the world from above.

But suddenly!

As he gazed at the scenery outside, he seemed to catch a reflection in the glass—

A figure was sitting on his leather sofa.

!!

Dick’s heart lurched, and he whipped his head around.

Instantly, his eyes narrowed.

Crack— Crack—

There,

as if appearing out of thin air,

was a figure shrouded in a sinister black trench coat, their features obscured, radiating an aura of danger.

The figure toyed with his expensive lighter.

Whoosh—

A flame flickered to life.

Bathed in the firelight, the eerie silhouette seemed even more unsettling.

In front of them stood a black sword Dick had never seen before.

Gu Yan lifted his gaze to meet the frozen expression of the Grim Reaper Organization’s leader and spoke slowly.

A layered, otherworldly voice echoed in Dick Hobbert’s ears.

"Dick Hobbert."

"You... are about to die."

!!!

He said... I’m about to die?!

The moment those words were uttered,

Dick Hobbert snapped back to reality, his pupils contracting violently as a violent crimson aura erupted from his body.

The cigar disintegrated into ashes under the surge of bloodlust.

In an instant, he clenched his fist and lunged at Gu Yan, who remained seated on the sofa, a cruel grin twisting his lips.

"Night King!!! You actually had the guts to come here alone?!"

"Perfect!! Let me see what you’re made of!!"

Boom!!

A torrent of bloody energy shattered the room’s furnishings—along with the eerie figure on the sofa, who was reduced to a mist of blood.

The Night King... was dead!

"Hahahaha!!!"

After a brief moment of stunned silence, Dick burst into wild laughter. "What Night King? Nothing more than—"

Before he could finish,

a sight that short-circuited Dick’s brain unfolded.

In the blink of an eye,

the scene that should have been on the verge of collapse

suddenly reset itself entirely.

?!!

Dick froze.

He realized he was still standing by the window, his cigar perfectly intact.

What... the hell was happening?!

"Dick Hobbert."

That familiar voice rang in his ears again.

Dick looked up in disbelief toward the sofa—where the figure he had just obliterated now sat, unharmed.

The eerie figure repeated the words spoken a minute earlier.

"You... are about to die."

Thud!!

Dick’s heart skipped a beat.

His mind went blank.

What... was this?