Chapter 117: The Target—Elder of the Purification Sect (7)

"Once I'm done with matters abroad, I should go find... Wuxiang and ask."

Wu Zui weighed his options repeatedly and ultimately decided against seeking out that person, primarily for fear of being set up. When information is asymmetrical, no matter how cautious he might be, he could easily fall into any number of traps.

As Wu Zui began to recover, the fleeing Zhang Meng arrived at a building in the center of Linben City. Since their purpose was to recruit new members and expand their ranks, they were never just taking subordinates out to sea for fishing; that was merely a means to provide the flesh and blood of ghosts and monsters to nourish his followers.

This commercial building was their true lair. They had dedicated personnel to manage finances and launder the proceeds from their drug trafficking. Each member received a substantial monthly payout, which was the very reason the Pure World Society was so difficult to eradicate.

The Pure World Society provided methods to use ghosts for self-protection, and at the same time, its members made money. With profit, power, and ruthless tactics, this triple bind ensured that internal traitors were non-existent—it could only be said that the mysterious President understood the human heart all too well.

Before returning to the branch, Zhang Meng discarded his bathrobe and specifically purchased a new set of clothes. Combined with his two-meter height following the cessation of his "Monstrous Transformation," he still looked imposing, showing no signs of the severe injuries he had sustained.

If Zhang Meng had fled back here visibly wounded, he might not even have needed Wu Zui to finish him off; his own subordinates, eager to consume his flesh, would have been enough to kill him. Under the pressure of greed and high stakes, loyalty was nothing more than empty talk.

Dressed impeccably, Zhang Meng walked slowly into the building with his hands behind his back.

"Elder."
"Elder."
...

Along the way, Pure World Society members bowed to Zhang Meng, yet he walked into his private elevator with a cold, indifferent expression. Given his authority, naturally, no one dared to ask why he had returned alone.

It was well known that the unfortunate soul Zhang Meng had consumed today was not the first, and likely would not be the last.

Back in his top-floor room, Zhang Meng’s cold mask finally slipped, and he coughed up a mouthful of black blood.

Although his Monstrous form had no vital organs, it shared the same fatal weakness as other monsters: the ghost core. Once he was worn down to his original size during a transformation, the transformation would dissipate, leaving him no different from an ordinary human.

Once the transformation vanished, his heart and head would become vulnerable points.

Now, with his transformation reduced to less than five meters, he was on the verge of death. He dared not even utilize the power of the transformation, forced to rely on the black head within his body and the resentment of living spirits to slowly heal his wounds.

After spitting out the black blood, Zhang Meng felt slightly relieved.

He then walked toward a bookcase in the room and opened a hidden compartment. Inside lay only a pure gold dagger, which looked extremely sharp. It was unclear what effect gold had on a being who had fused with a monster.

Zhang Meng reached out with his right hand to grasp the dagger. Black smoke rose from his skin—the damage inflicted by the golden object on a monster. With a sharp slash to his abdomen, black blood sprayed out, and a black human head rolled from his midsection onto the floor.

Clutching his bleeding wound with his left hand, Zhang Meng quickly returned the golden dagger to the compartment. Nourished by the resentment of living spirits, his wound began to clot and shrink rapidly, soon looking as if it had never been injured at all.

He then picked up the black head. The other elders kept theirs on their persons, but unlike their spirit-fused bodies, keeping it inside his own body was not only safe but allowed him to draw upon more of the head's power.

As for taking it out now, it was a matter of necessity. To recover as quickly as possible, Zhang Meng needed to replenish his flesh. And in Linben City, there was no source of replenishment faster than his own disobedient subordinates.

Taking out the black head was merely to prevent them from acting out of desperation. After all, Zhang Meng’s current injuries could not afford to worsen; he would avoid fighting if he could. Besides, the Pure World Society had never relied on these low-level thugs to maintain its deterrence in the world.

Zhang Meng cleaned up the blood, sat in his chair, and placed the black head on the table, facing the door. He pressed the intercom and said, "Send the members of Action Team Two to my office."

The action teams were how Zhang Meng organized his subordinates in Mosang Country, ten teams of three people each. The strongest team had already been wiped out by Wu Zui at the fishing port, and of those remaining, Team Two was the strongest—and to him, the most delicious!

By the time Wu Zui finished restoring his magnetic energy, it was completely dark.

His encounter with Zhang Meng earlier was due more to coincidence than his own analysis. He had just happened to run into Zhang Meng returning from the sea; otherwise, Zhang Meng would have been back in his lair rather than being cornered in a fishing port room while bathing.

As Wu Zui resumed his search, he felt a sudden, poignant longing for a certain cute little apprentice.

However, he did not yet know that Zhang Meng, having recovered sufficiently, had decided to launch a counterattack. He was currently leading men to search for him; if Wu Zui simply stood still, he would be found soon enough without having to exert himself.

Wu Zui searched along the fishing port, heading from the suburbs all the way to the city center.

As for Zhang Meng, it was even simpler. The traffic bureau of Linben City had been infiltrated by Pure World Society personnel; under the surveillance cameras, Wu Zui had nowhere to hide.

"Send all the remaining eight teams out! Surround and kill him! If you can't finish him off, don't bother coming back!" Zhang Meng said to the eight remaining team leaders standing before him, his eyes fixed on the surveillance monitors.

"Yes!"

The eight leaders shivered instinctively. Where had the missing Teams One and Two gone? Although they hadn't seen it with their own eyes, they had heard rumors. Since the President stopped managing affairs, these elders had become increasingly bold, even going so far as to slaughter their own members.

With Zhang Meng in a rage, no one dared to provoke him. After confirming Wu Zui's area of activity, the eight men hurried out to surround him.

*[With the sacrifice of these twenty-odd people, his magnetic energy should be drained. Let's see how you unleash that flame then!]*

Zhang Meng watched the monitor in silence. From the beginning, he never believed these twenty-plus subordinates—none of whom were stronger than a four-star awakener—could kill Wu Zui. Draining his magnetic energy was their only purpose.

Meanwhile, Wu Zui, still searching and sensing for Pure World Society members, quickly detected over a dozen sources of living spirit resentment surrounding him.

"Heh, you think striking first is useful?"

Wu Zui muttered to himself, unstrapping his backpack and wearing it on his chest for easier access.

The golden longsword in his hand began to glow with a crimson fire. Pedestrians on the road saw this and immediately fled, fearing they would be caught in the crossfire.

After all, the battles between the spirit detectives and the Pure World Society in Linben City had been ongoing for some time, and everyone was terrified. In Mosang Country, the percentage of awakeners was low, far fewer than in China.

Soon, standing in the middle of a crossroads, Wu Zui spotted sixteen ghost-fused Pure World Society members radiating resentment on the four surrounding streets.

As for the remaining eight, they had activated their spirit-fused forms and were hiding in the shadows, preparing to ambush.

They weren't stupid, but they didn't dare defy Zhang Meng. Not to mention what the President might do, the black head in Zhang Meng's possession could teach them a lesson in a heartbeat.

The sixteen members in the open did not rush forward; instead, using their mutual sensitivity to the resentment, they slowly closed in on Wu Zui.

Once they reached a certain distance, the eight in the shadows would coordinate with the sixteen in the open for a long-range attack. Only then would Wu Zui truly face the siege of over twenty people.

Wu Zui saw this clearly, so he decided to pick the weakest point to break their formation.

*[You're the one!]*

Seeing that one of the four-man groups included a monster-fused individual only equivalent to a two-star, Wu Zui decided to open a breakthrough there.

He charged at the four people on that road, his golden longsword wreathed in Karmic Fire.

Amidst the flickering light, a red streak of lightning flashed across the four of them, and then they were engulfed in flames.

For these small fry below four stars, even a touch of the Karmic Fire was enough to turn them into ash. Wu Zui tore through that path instantly.

But just as he stood firm, a pair of ghostly hands erupted from the ground beneath his feet. The withered, cracked skin clung to the bone, and sharp nails instantly pierced through his magnetic protective suit, gouging ten bloody holes into his feet.

As Wu Zui raised his sword to hack the hands off, they retracted into the ground, causing his strike to hit nothing but air.

"Nice work!"

The other surrounding members rejoiced, speeding up their approach.

"Aaaah~~~"

A miserable, piercing shriek erupted from beneath the street. The sound made one imagine a demon trapped in the depths of hell—tragic and terrifying.

A figure burst from the ground, rolling on the pavement while emitting a harrowing scream; she was covered in red flames.

Amidst the wailing, the figure gradually turned into ash!

The Pure World Society members were dumbfounded. They didn't know how Wu Zui had struck her, especially since she had retreated underground before his attack landed. Could his attacks lock onto enemies?

For a moment, the remaining dozen members dared not attack. No one wanted to be the one to test his defenses.

Wu Zui stood, leaning on his sword. That spirit-fused member’s attack had been skilled—who knew what she had done in the past? Those two strikes had severed the Achilles tendons in both his feet, and now, Wu Zui couldn't take a single step.