Skinwalker Belle – Chapter 387 – Since I’m Attending the Banquet, I’ll Flip the Table First

The sky outside the window was a layer of gloomy leaden gray, the product of industrial smoke interwoven with Otherworld Spiritual Qi.

In the center of the square, a faint blue curtain of light was trembling violently.

The Rift, originally sealed with foam film, now seemed to be torn apart by an invisible pair of giant hands, expanding to nearly five meters in diameter.

Spatial Ripples spread outward like liquid mercury, and even the surrounding air let out an overwhelmed hum.

Immediately after, a group of survivors in everyday casual clothes, looking dazed and disoriented, stumbled out of the curtain of light.

When they breathed in the air of Azurewood City—not exactly fresh, but brimming with energy—many of them collapsed directly to the ground, retching uncontrollably.

Lin Fan leaned against the enormous floor-to-ceiling window, a slender menthol cigarette pinched between her fingers. As smoke curled upward, those starry eyes narrowed slightly.

“That kid Zhou Ming… has he been popping pills lately?”

Lin Fan blew out a smoke ring, a playful smirk curling at the corner of her lips. “This frequency—from three times a day to five times a day—he’s not afraid of getting drained dry.”

Despite her teasing, she knew full well that this was a sign that the world on the other side was heading toward collapse.

The Federation had completely rotted away. The Dragon Clan’s harvest plan was imminent, and the humans over there were like ants on a hot pan—as long as there was a crack, they’d desperately squeeze through it.

“Devouring Blue Star… Level Ten.”

Lin Fan muttered to herself, her fingers tapping rhythmically against the window frame, producing a steady “tap, tap, tap.”

The Dragon Clan’s ancestor wanted to level up by eating people?

In his dreams.

Since you treat Blue Star humans as experience packs, then I’ll just pack up all these experience packs and take them away.

When that old monster wakes up and gets ready to feast, only to find not even a plate left on the table—his expression at that moment would be absolutely priceless.

That was Lin Fan’s logic.

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Saving people?

No, that’s what saints do.

She was a demon. She was a bandit.

She was going to empty out the Dragon Clan’s granary, turning these millions of people into Azurewood City’s labor force, into batteries supplying her with the Power of Faith.

Besides, there was still an old score to settle back on Blue Star.

That Wang Shan from the Federation—that Spatial Walnut back then had nearly screwed her over.

“You got one over on me back then. Now it’s time to go back and have a nice little chat with you about life.”

Lin Fan stubbed out her cigarette and turned toward the giant dressing mirror.

The woman in the mirror possessed a nearly divine, flawless countenance—hair white as a waterfall, skin fairer than snow.

When she lifted her skirt, those long, shapely legs clad in nude stockings were enough to drive anyone insane.

But at this moment, her brows were slightly furrowed.

She reached out and gently touched the pair of antique silver earrings on her earlobes, as well as the unassuming thin chain around her neck.

[Ghost Set]

This was a fine treasure she’d gotten from Jiji back then—capable of concealing one’s aura and suppressing cultivation.

But now, these two accessories were growing slightly hot.

“An energy intensity at the mid-Level Eight is too high.”

Lin Fan sighed.

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The current Rift could only accommodate creatures at early Level Six at most.

If she didn’t lock down this terrifying amount of energy, the moment she set one foot into the Rift, the space within would collapse outright, and she’d be swept away by Spatial Turbulence.

Lin Fan reached up and removed the accessories.

The moment the silver earrings left her body, they let out a sizzling sound, a layer of abnormal dark red surfacing on them, so hot that even the air around them twisted and warped.

“It’s still too much of a stretch.”

She rubbed her slightly burning earlobes. The sheer volume of Spirit Energy at the mid-Eighth Stage was overwhelming—this set of equipment, which had once been practically divine, now saturated after storing only a fraction of what it used to hold.

If she couldn’t solve this problem, forget about sneaking back to Blue Star to raid their home base—the moment she set one foot into the Rift, that fragile Space Channel would blow apart on the spot.

Su Yue carried a tray, carefully avoiding the searing hot metal: “Milady, Jiji is already waiting in the reception hall. He said… that one from the Artisan City isn’t in the best of moods.”

“Bad temper?”

Lin Fan stepped barefoot across the soft carpet, slipping off her pure white dress and casually draping a silk robe over her shoulders, concealing the expanse of dazzling white skin beneath.

She walked to the mirror and studied the woman reflected there—one so sacred she bordered on the profane—her gaze playful.

“Tech people having a temper is normal. But on my turf, dragons coil and tigers crouch. Even the God of Craftsmen has to swing a hammer obediently when he’s here.”

…

Azurewood City, Reception Hall.

This had once been the side chamber of the City Lord’s mansion, now converted into a reception room styled after modern Blue Star aesthetics.

Floor-to-ceiling glass windows offered an unobstructed view over half the city.

A group of stocky, heavily bearded figures were pressed against the glass, their faces squished into comical lumps of flesh.

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“Impossible! This transparency… even the finest crystal can’t be made this large!”

“Look at that! That big thing over there!” A red-bearded dwarf carrying a massive iron hammer pointed at a distant tower crane, spittle flying in his excitement. “That’s an all-metal structure! By the gods, where did they get this much refined iron? And they’re using it to build… this kind of… frame for lifting things?”

“Blasphemy! Utter blasphemy!”

At the head of the group stood an old dwarf whose beard was braided into an intricate plait that hung all the way to his knees.

He wore a leather apron stained with grease and clutched a stainless steel thermos he’d swiped from the table moments ago, his gaze burning with the fervor of a man beholding a breathtaking beauty in the nude.

He was the chief of Artisan City, the one known as the “God of Craftsmen”—Copperbeard.

Jiji cowered in a corner, wiping cold sweat from his brow.

These masters had been nothing but trouble since they entered the city.

They touched every streetlamp they passed, dropped to their knees to scrape chunks off the asphalt road, and when they’d stepped into the elevator earlier, every single one of them had drawn their weapons, convinced they’d been swallowed by some monster.

“Ahem… esteemed masters.” Jiji said in a hushed tone, “Lady Lei Li will be arriving shortly. Perhaps we should—”

“Lei Li, Shmei Li!” Copperbeard didn’t even turn around, too busy examining the laser-etched characters on the bottom of the thermos with a magnifying glass. “Jiji, my boy, you’ve done great things this time! What’s the formula for this alloy called ‘stainless steel’? Hand it over, and I’ll cover all your expenses in Artisan City from now on!”

“That metal has no Spirit Energy conductivity. Decent hardness, sure, but it’s only good for making everyday utensils.”

A languid voice sounded from the doorway.

Copperbeard spun around to see a white-haired woman leaning against the doorframe, a slender stick trailing wisps of blue smoke held between her fingers, watching them with a faint, knowing smile.

It was the kind of look a city noble might give a group of country bumpkins fresh off the farm.

That look grated on Copperbeard’s nerves.

He was the God of Craftsmen, the most revered forger on the entire continent. Even the Dragon Clan addressed him respectfully as “Master” upon meeting him.

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“Girl, you’ve got quite the bold tongue.” Copperbeard puffed out his beard and tucked his thermos into his chest. “Such exquisite smelting craftsmanship could easily produce standard-issue armor. How can you call this mere mortal iron?”

Lin Fan did not argue. She simply walked slowly into the room.

As she moved, an invisible pressure spread like a rising tide.

It was not a deliberately released aura of intimidation, but the natural oppressive presence of a higher lifeform over a lower one.

The dwarves, who had been making a ruckus moments before, fell silent instantly. They instinctively retreated, huddling together.

Copperbeard’s expression shifted. His earlier disdain vanished, replaced by solemnity.

This woman was dangerous.

More dangerous than those winged lizards.

Lin Fan walked to the main seat and sat down, crossing her long legs. Su Yue immediately stepped forward to light a fresh mint cigarette for her.

“Clink.”

The tray was placed on the tea table.

The set of [Phantom] jewelry, now cooled, lay quietly on the velvet cloth.

“You made this, didn’t you?” Lin Fan blew out a ring of smoke.

Copperbeard leaned in for a look, a flicker of pride passing through his eyes. “That was my proudest work from three years ago—the only set of equipment capable of completely concealing aura below the seventh rank. What, is it broken? Hmph, I bet the user didn’t know how to maintain it. What a waste of a fine piece…”

“It is indeed broken.” Lin Fan cut off his self-praise. “Because its capacity is too small to contain my power.”

“Impossible!” Copperbeard jumped up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. “This set of jewelry was made with Deep Sea Anti-Magic Silver and a sixth-rank Phantom Spirit Beast Crystal Core. Even the spiritual power of a peak seventh-rank expert can be contained within it. You’re telling me it can’t hold yours? Unless you’re…”