Chen Chuan’s tone was calm but extremely forceful. Everyone present could clearly feel the unshakable power and determination it conveyed.

"Heh..."

Wei Jun showed a regretful expression and patted the metal railing. "I see."

He suddenly smiled. "Did you know? Shen Zheng died right here. That’s right, in this very factory. You probably knew that before you came, but do you know how he died?

At the time, we found Shen Zheng’s little sister. They had been separated for five years, but it was our kindness that allowed them to reunite here. You must be thinking I threatened him with his sister’s life, right? No, not at all. That would be too crude. We just wanted his sister to witness firsthand the fate of those who oppose us. And you..."

His gaze landed on Chen Chuan. "You’re about to find out. You will experience everything he experienced." With that, he snapped his fingers.

At the same time, with a series of loud CLUNKS, the spotlights at the side all shut off. Instead, lights in the corners and on the ceiling of the factory switched on in unison, brightly illuminating the entire area.

The surroundings were now clearly visible. The walls and floor were covered in a dense network of strange patterns, smeared on with paint of various colors. Within these designs were countless chaotic lines, looking as if they were drawn with a color made from mixing scarlet, putrid blood with sewer sludge.

They all stretched out from the walls, with every intersecting line running toward the floor and ceiling, ultimately converging on the very spot where Chen Chuan now stood!

"Three years ago, Shen Zheng stood on this very same spot." Wei Jun’s voice echoed through the vast factory.

The Mutual Aid Association members on the walkways leaned forward, looking down in anticipation of what was about to happen.

These patterns were part of an Esoteric Ritual from the "Double-faced Secret Sect." To be precise, the Esoteric Ritual was used to control a supernatural entity known as a Double-faced Heart-fiend and to amplify its power.

Once activated, anyone standing on the ritual patterns would be affected. With the entire factory floor covered in them, anyone who entered was essentially caught within the ritual’s bounds, allowing the entity to be triggered at any moment. However, the effect was undoubtedly most potent on the person standing on the centermost pattern.

Jiang Wei’s earlier suggestion to use spotlights to create a path, forcing Chen Chuan onto that specific spot, had clearly been a successful one.

Once the Double-faced Heart-fiend locked onto its target, it would latch onto them, producing two effects.

First, no external attack would cause any physical harm, though the sensations of pain and suffering would not be eliminated. Second, any damage from the possessed target’s own attacks would ultimately be borne by the target themselves.

Furthermore, under the stimulation of the Double-faced Heart-fiend and the external ritual, the victim’s mind would be continuously flooded with visions of their own worries and fears, causing them to ceaselessly attack the phantoms they saw.

Shen Zheng had been an incredible fighter, but what did that matter?

They had brought Shen Zheng’s little sister to him precisely to make him anxious and worried. The more he felt these emotions, the more it stimulated the hallucinations.

Shen Zheng must have seen his loved ones right before his eyes—friends, mentors, and everyone he knew—suffering all kinds of abuse and attacks, all needing him to save them.

He could only attack with all his might to protect everything he wanted to protect. But the harder he fought, the more he was injured, because in the end, he was the one who bore the brunt of every single attack, every point of damage.

And the whole time, everyone from the Mutual Aid Association watched him as if it were a monkey show, seeing him continuously harm himself. They went up one by one to provoke, mock, and agitate Shen Zheng, watching him counterattack again and again, yet utterly powerless to do anything to them. In the end, you could say he was literally played to death.

And now, the result would be the same.

After waiting for a moment, someone looked down and noticed Chen Chuan was standing perfectly still. "Why isn’t he moving?" he asked, puzzled.

"Yeah, why is he just standing there? Did something go wrong with the ritual?"

Wei Jun thought for a moment, and then realization dawned on him. He scoffed. ’This kid probably doesn’t have anyone he cares about. People like that are less affected by internal stimuli. But no matter. A little external provocation is all it will take to get him to fight his own imaginary phantoms. Then we’ll get our show. Who wants to go first?’

"I’ll go first!"

Shao Xiaobie yelled, a steel pipe in his hand, and excitedly made his way down the metal staircase. The other Mutual Aid Association members watched with keen interest, though some seemed unhappy he was the first, booing him and shouting that it was a setup.

Wei Jun chuckled and raised his voice. "Don’t worry, everyone will get a turn. There’s enough to go around."

Shao Xiaobie sauntered up to Chen Chuan, swinging the steel pipe. He first raised a hand to the crowd behind him, then gripped the pipe with both hands, mockingly aiming a few times at Chen Chuan’s head. He then raised it high, but just as he was about to swing down with all his might—

BANG! A fist shot out and connected. Shao Xiaobie’s head instantly exploded, sending a spray of flesh, brain matter, and bone fragments backward. The headless corpse, still holding the steel pipe, swayed for a moment before collapsing onto the ground with a heavy THUD. The pipe rolled away with a loud CLATTER.

The laughter, boos, and catcalls from the onlookers died instantly.

Chen Chuan slowly raised a hand, placing it on his shoulder. His five fingers closed, seeming to grasp an invisible layer of something. Then, his arm muscles bulged as he began to slowly pull it outward.

As he did, even the people watching could see a nearly transparent, two-faced creature being slowly peeled off the surface of his body!

The thing struggled and twisted in his grasp, trying to break free, but it was useless against his powerful hold. Finally, with a faint sound like tearing cloth, the creature was pulled completely away from his body.

Chen Chuan watched the monster struggle and thrash, its two faces twisting into various expressions of intimidation, rage, and laughter. He threw it to the ground and stomped on it. With a wet SQUISH, like a rotten bag being crushed, it burst apart and dissolved into wisps of smoke that drifted away from under his foot.

Before coming here, he had reviewed numerous files and consulted Director Lei, which allowed him to roughly deduce the cause of Shen Zheng’s death and make certain preparations.

He still didn’t know exactly what this thing did, nor did he need to. As long as his Second Self was present, neither Esoteric Rituals nor supernatural entities could affect him for a short time. He could, however, feel that this thing was tangible, so he simply grabbed its physical form and crushed it on the spot!

The surrounding members of the Mutual Aid Association stared blankly at the scene.

They had come here today because Wei Jun had promised them a good show, and they had complete confidence in the Esoteric Ritual. After all, wasn’t Shen Zheng incredibly strong? And hadn’t he still died under this ritual?

His case had proven that this method was both reliable and effective. They were looking forward to brutalizing this man who had refused their goodwill and dared to cross the line. But now, the result seemed to be a little different.

Chen Chuan looked up, his gaze falling upon Wei Jun and the other members of the Mutual Aid Association. "You think you’re the ones who summoned me here?"

He smiled.

"The truth is, I came looking for you."

Wei Jun finally realized something was terribly wrong. He had been clinging to a sliver of hope, but now, hearing Chen Chuan’s words, he knew the ritual had failed completely.

A wave of fear and furious panic surged through him. He scrambled backward and screamed, "Open fire! Kill him!"

Security guards on the surrounding steel platforms and in the various passageways raised their guns. However, on the left flank, some had only just made the motion when their hands and firearms suddenly dropped away from their bodies. Their limbs looked as if they had been neatly sliced by some sharp weapon, revealing perfectly smooth wounds.

Seeing this, the men froze for a second, stunned.

And in the space they couldn’t see, right where they had raised their guns, was a crisscrossing network of fine spider silk, invisible to the naked eye.

When Chen Chuan had first entered, he had set down the case containing the Tayana Combat Spider, allowing the creature to enter the factory under the cover of shadows.

This spider could secrete a high-strength, Mutated silk. The slightest external pressure from a human body against it was enough to be sliced cleanly in two. In an ambush scenario, the Combat Spider could therefore often eliminate targets silently.

However, this was not the Combat Spider’s primary means of attack. Its abdomen, back, and all eight of its legs were implanted with specialized blades. Its crawling and jumping speeds exceeded the reaction time of an ordinary Fighter. Once it got close, it could easily tear a person into pieces. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

The Combat Spider was now darting rapidly across the walls and ceiling, slicing through any security guard who tried to open fire. In its wake, men were left with severed hands and feet, or their heads simply fell off. Agonized screams echoed through the building.

In its command protocols, anyone making the motion to aim and fire a gun was designated a primary threat and slated for immediate elimination.

But no matter how fast the Combat Spider was, the factory was spacious and there were too many people. It was only targeting one area, leaving the men elsewhere free to shoot with impunity.

Chen Chuan glanced at the gun muzzles aimed at him and took a deep breath. In an instant, his Second Self merged with him, and in that moment, everything around him seemed to slow down.

The gun barrels seemed to slowly lift and drift in his direction.

He stepped forward, and with every step, fine cracks radiated outward across the painted ground beneath his feet.

The muzzles finally spat fire, but every single bullet landed behind him. At the same time, the Snow Monarch Blade in his hand was slowly sliding free of its Sword Scabbard, revealing its keen edge.

His forward charge carved a wide arc. With a heavy footfall, he vaulted onto a platform. He saw the row of security guards ahead, still firing downward. His body leaned forward, the light from the Snow Monarch Blade seemed to flash once, and then he was already at the other end of the passageway.

The dozen or so men on that passageway froze for a moment. The next, they collapsed into severed limbs that scattered across the steel plating of the floor.

...

...