Chapter 370: The Mad Woman's Death

Zeng Qing stared at the scene on her Information Component, unable to calm down for a long time.

If anyone could definitively identify the mastermind behind this scene, it was her.

Only after seeing this did she completely believe Luo Sheng was truly connected to the humans.

Although the deaths of the two candidate councilors had been proof enough, she had found it hard to accept at the time. Now, taking a deep breath, she reached for her cup, only to find her right hand trembling slightly.

Damn it, Zeng Qing. Calm down.

She pressed her left hand over her right to steady it, then stood up and walked over to the mirror to look at her reflection.

Nothing.

She didn't see the slightest trace of fear in her eyes. Instead, they brimmed with excitement.

Yes, excitement.

This was the kind of person she was always meant to be.

Her past fear had simply stemmed from a lack of firepower, but everything was completely different now.

"You don't lack the desire to succeed; you're just afraid of failing."

Those were Mao Si's words to her, and she had to admit that he was absolutely right.

She picked up her Information Component to call him.

But before she could even finish dialing the number, a line of text drifted across the screen, taking up half the display.

[The always unscrupulous Lord Mao Si has spent 1,000 Sin Value to send a premium message to Face Thief Du Yintian.]

[Go kill that human named Yan Jing. Succeed, and I will tip another 10,000 Sin Value. He just defeated Pilgrim and is heading your way.]

In the Victory District, beside a structure known as the Ten Victories Monument.

An extremely androgynous figure watched the message appear. He paused what he was doing, a playful smile curling his lips.

Naturally, he had no obligation to listen to the messages of these idiots.

But the fact that the guy had killed Pilgrim was quite interesting. Moreover, if the message was true, his target was already heading his way.

"Heh. I suppose I'll enjoy the appetizer before the main course, then."

He stared at the greasy, glistening piece of human skin in his hand. A trace of fanaticism flickered in his eyes as he pressed it against his nose and inhaled deeply.

"Ah..."

An expression of pure enjoyment washed over his face.

This face had belonged to a wealthy second-generation criminal participating in the broadcast, someone he had just killed.

Besides the skinned face, a female criminal lay at his feet.

She was supposedly from a wealthy family too, and her crimes were far from minor.

Originally, she had been his first target, but certain reasons had ultimately prompted him to change his mind.

After savoring the scent of the face a moment longer, he glanced down at the woman on the ground, who was staring blankly up at the sky.

"You said someone would come to kill me once I caught you. So, where is he?"

He asked with a smile.

"Just wait. He's almost here."

The woman chuckled softly, a hint of madness lurking in her eyes.

The androgynous figure clicked his tongue in annoyance.

This was precisely why he hadn't killed her yet.

He loved the feeling of his prey struggling desperately when he went in for the kill. He loved watching them thrash to survive, completely oblivious to the fact that their faces were being separated from their bodies. That sheer, primal madness for life made him ecstatic every single time.

But evidently, the woman in front of him wasn't afraid to die.

"I'm going to die today."

Those were the very first words she had spoken upon seeing him.

She had been huddled in a corner, arms wrapped around her knees, dressed in a blue-and-white prison uniform with her hair in a disheveled mess. The grime on her face couldn't hide her exquisite features; anyone could tell she had once been a pampered young lady who had since fallen into disgrace.

"I don't care if you kill me. Go ahead and do it."

She had smiled then. "I know you'll wear my face on your head."

"When that happens, you'll meet him."

"Who?" Out of sheer curiosity, he hadn't immediately killed her. He had seen plenty of prey play tricks to survive, but looking into this woman's eyes, he could tell she truly had no desire to live.

"You'll find out soon enough."

"Tsk."

The more the androgynous figure thought about it, the more annoyed he became.

He was starting to suspect that she had been locked up so long her mind had simply snapped.

If that was the case, he was making a massive fool of himself by waiting around.

He looked down at the woman on the ground, his gaze turning dark.

"I'll give you ten more minutes to summon this person. If no one shows up by then, I'm killing you anyway. My patience is gone."

"Heh..."

The woman merely smiled up at the sky.

Time ticked away, second by second.

Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps rang out.

The Face Thief snapped his head up, locking his eyes on a figure in a black shirt.

"Good morning, sir."

Yan Jing greeted him with a smile.

"Are you the guy she's been waiting for?"

The Face Thief's lips curled up.

"I doubt it," Yan Jing replied lightly.

"Then you're just some unlucky bastard."

The Face Thief's grin widened. "I remember now. You're Yan Jing, right? I saw your face in the files. It's a pretty good one, actually."

"Someone just sent a message paying me to kill you. I didn't expect you to deliver yourself straight to my door."

"I have no interest in taking orders from those idiots. Tell you what—leave your face behind, and I'll spare your life."

He stood up with a laugh. Several mechanical arms extended from his back, each one gripping a pair of scissors that snapped wildly in the air.

"Scissors?"

Yan Jing smiled.

"What a coincidence. I have a pair, too."

Dazzling light flashed. In an instant, the phantom of a massive pair of scissors, several meters long, materialized behind him.

The blades were stained with the blood of unknown creatures, the mottled rust matted with clumps of hair. Rather than ordinary scissors, they looked like two massive guillotines crossed together. Rows of jagged teeth lined the pivot where the blades intersected, giving the weapon an intensely eerie appearance.

In the Surface World.

"That's his second Ritual!"

"His first Ritual was a spear, and his second Ritual is a pair of scissors. Could he be walking the All-Artifact Stream?"

The All-Artifact Stream meant that a practitioner's Rituals were entirely composed of items and devices. Similarly, there was an even more extreme path known as the All-Weapon Stream, where every Ritual was a weapon.

According to rumors, those who reached the Fifth Tier in the All-Weapon Stream were highly likely to receive the honorary title of "Weapon Master." Once they obtained that title, their mastery over their own Rituals would reach unprecedented heights, and their overall strength would take a massive leap.

"...I can only tell you all that he probably isn't."

An insider spoke up:

"As for what his path actually is, I have no idea. Nobody in Rainbow City knows either. Up until today, no one has ever even seen the phantom of Yan Jing's Ritual."

"???"

"???"

A wave of question marks flooded the comment stream.

"Are you saying none of you have ever seen him go all out? Are you joking, bro?!"

"It's the truth."

Another user chimed in. Though the message was instantly buried under the flood of new comments, more and more people who had survived Dungeons alongside Yan Jing stepped forward to verify the claim.

Ultimately, the audience had no choice but to accept the truth.

"Now I'm actually getting excited."

Soon, variations of that exact sentiment began spamming the screen.

In the Inner World.

Looking at the massive scissors floating behind Yan Jing, a sense of deep wariness flared in the Face Thief's chest.

He could sense the danger. It was an instinct honed from years of scraping by in the Great Prison.

Seconds later, the fight erupted.

The Face Thief lunged forward, seizing the initiative.

A patchwork Human Skin Mask morphed over his face. His eyes erupted with a violently murderous crimson light, and his speed skyrocketed as he shot toward Yan Jing.

His multiple mechanical arms whipped around him in a frenzy. The array of scissors snapped and crossed, generating gales of wind as they slashed down at his opponent.

Yan Jing lowered his gaze. He didn't even look at the Face Thief hurtling toward him; his downcast eyes simply seemed to hold a smile.

He swallowed a pitch-black fruit. White silk materialized, and amidst billowing thick fog, the colossal scissors shot out from behind him and crashed directly into the Face Thief.

Clang!

The harsh screech of metal striking metal rang out. Feeling the terrifying force transmitted down his mechanical arms, the Face Thief's expression drastically changed.

His usually unstoppable blades had met their match. Clashing against the massive iron shears wrapped in thick fog and white silk, his own scissors failed to gain an inch of ground. In fact, the sheer impact nearly severed several of his mechanical arms outright.

Clang! Clang, clang, clang!

Sparks sprayed in all directions as dazzling light and dark energy clashed, distorting the very space around them. The massive roars of the collision swept outward, filling both the Peace Heavenly Kingdom and the Surface World's broadcast with deafening static.

For a moment, the viewers' scalps went numb, and they scrambled to turn down their volume.

In the midst of this chaotic clash, the audience watched as Yan Jing didn't spare the Face Thief a single glance. Instead, he walked right up to the woman lying on the ground.

He looked down at her.

"You came."

Looking up at Yan Jing's upside-down face, Chen Xiaojing suddenly smiled. Her blurred eyes seemed to regain a glimmer of clarity.

"I don't believe we've met," Yan Jing said with a smile.

"I know it's you."

Chen Xiaojing's eyes curved into crescents as she smiled.

Yan Jing fell silent.

He didn't believe she could actually see through the system's disguise. The last person to do so had been Fei Yu, but Fei Yu was a phoenix, and even she had merely suspected it.

The woman in front of him had likely just lost her mind.

Her sanity had long been warped by the torment of Happy Water, and her heart had been twisted by a total lack of love.

Being thrown into prison had probably been the final straw.

"I knew you would come."

Chen Xiaojing kept smiling, speaking as if she were talking to herself.

"I knew you would come to kill me."

"Why would I kill you?"

Yan Jing should have finished it right then and there, but for some inexplicable reason, he pressed on.

"Because I deserve to die."

Chen Xiaojing smiled. "You wouldn't let me die at the hands of anyone else. They don't know my sins. If they killed me, I wouldn't even feel the pain."

Yan Jing blinked.

He really had been seen through.

Mad woman.

Chen Xiaojing opened her arms.

"Could you give me a hug?"

"No."

Yan Jing's tone was as cold as solid ice.

"It really is you." Tears suddenly glistened at the corners of Chen Xiaojing's curved eyes.

She wasn't crazy.

The thought suddenly flashed through Yan Jing's mind.

"Do it. I want to die by your hands," Chen Xiaojing said with a smile.

Yan Jing didn't say another word. A spear materialized in his hand, and he plunged it directly into Chen Xiaojing's chest.

Blood bloomed outward like a brilliant, crimson flower.

Yet, in that very moment, Chen Xiaojing threw herself forward. Stretching her arms out with all her remaining strength, she barely managed to embrace Yan Jing's body.

"I knew it... you are a gentle person."

Chen Xiaojing's vitality rapidly faded. Agony tore through her body, causing her to tremble uncontrollably, yet she still managed a strained smile.

"You didn't dodge."

"Next... next life, I'll be a good girl. Will you... will you give me a hug in the next life? Please?"

"I'm sorry. I did so many horrible things. I'm sorry to them... and I'm sorry to you—"

"I'm scared... I'm scared..."

Chen Xiaojing died.

Her death must have been agonizing.

The veins across her entire body bulged.

Yan Jing felt that Chen Xiaojing had been wrong at the very end. He wasn't a gentle person. If he were, he would have instantly crushed her mechanical core to spare her the agonizing pain of the Fear Thorn.

This was no longer the thorn of a mere seedling. Being pierced by the current Fear Thorn was no different from having your entire body hollowed out by vengeful ghosts.

And yet, at the very end, he changed his mind again.

The woman truly had gone mad.

This was the Peace Heavenly Kingdom. How could she possibly possess any concept of a "next life" in her head?

Realizing his repeated errors in judgment, a rare ripple of emotion stirred in his heart.

He lifted the spear in his hand and walked over to the Face Thief, who was covered in wounds and still locked in a desperate struggle against the massive iron shears.

The Power of the Fear Bird flared.

Tens of thousands of dark, cascading lightning bolts reversed gravity, surging upward like an inverted waterfall. They fused with the brilliant light and shadowed energy, ultimately converging into a devastating torrent under the guidance of his feathers.

An instant later, the Face Thief's corpse crashed to the ground. His face was frozen in utter terror, his eyes staring blankly in death, forever unclosed.