Why do I have so many masters?-Chapter 431 - 102: Solving the Case, the Fishing Duo from Fufeng (Two-in-One Mega Chapter)_2

It took several breaths of time before he finally unraveled the package on the ground, his eyes filled with extreme ecstasy that transformed into intense fury and disbelief, almost coughing up blood.

"Is it a surprise?"

A clear voice rang out.

Under the moonlight, a young man in vermilion clothes slowly approached, stopping ten meters behind the man in Nightwalker Clothes, his right hand holding a saber, with a square face and determined eyes.

...............

Since ancient times, the matters of fox spirits and evil ghosts have existed, and places as lifeless as the mortuary become even more eerie at night, making one’s skin crawl.

The white banners at the doorway fluttered, the courtyard densely lined with black coffins.

There was no visible wind, but the paper money on the ground was flying about, wasn’t it?

This place could almost terrify ordinary people out of their wits.

But for true followers of the Martial Arts, this place was no different from bustling areas.

Wang Anfeng sat quietly in the middle of the mortuary, having changed out of his constable vermilion clothes into white clothes to utilize the environment to enhance his aura. His eyes were slightly closed, breath steady.

The sword, still in its scabbard, lay horizontally across his knees.

His expression was calm, as if he had merged with the eerie surroundings. The old and young in the mortuary had already gone to sleep, and to prevent them from being affected, Wang Anfeng had slightly used some calming medicine to ensure they slept deeply.

The young man recalled the task Yan Ling had entrusted to him—

After the murderer had killed, he left traces of Yi Nanping and then disappeared.

But after that, thefts occurred frequently in the usually calm city, even affecting the homes of the constables involved in the case.

This unusual occurrence clearly meant that the killer hadn’t obtained what he wanted then, yet he was sure it must be with that girl, thinking he just hadn’t searched thoroughly enough that day to find it.

This afternoon, Yan Ling spoke softly, sharing his suspicions with Wang Anfeng.

At that moment, the young man’s eyes shone coldly, and he said slowly,

"Today, I will release the news that if he doesn’t want to forever lose the thing he seeks, he will surely act by tomorrow morning at the latest."

"There are two possible places he might go."

"One is here, where the relics are gathered; the other, where he didn’t search thoroughly before—"

"The mortuary, the corpse."

Wang Anfeng exhaled a turbid breath, his distracting thoughts clearing, sitting cross-legged on the ground as if bereft of breath.

Coldness began emanating from the wooden sword on his lap.

............

The night deepened.

A dark figure sprinted down the road, each step propelling him several yards forward like fluff in the wind, light and effortless as if a phantom.

He looked up; the mortuary was ahead.

His eyes filled with anguish and a deep, unresolved hatred.

He sprinted all the way to the entrance of the mortuary, the gate wide open, the black coffins visible in the courtyard, the pale paper money fluttering in the night wind, but his heart was already heavy as iron. He stepped into the yard, passing the chilling setup, yet his reasoning still intact, he gently pushed the door, which did not budge.

He stepped back, his right hand swiftly rising, clenching around the sword hilt.

With long breaths, a thunder-like streak of light slashed down.

In an instant, the rust-covered lock broke in half and fell to the ground. The newcomer sheathed his sword, pushed open the door, and quickly swept his gaze around, dashing towards the most recently added coffin, but before his hand could touch it, his body suddenly stiffened.

"You’re here."

A figure stood quietly, and perhaps had been there for a long time.

The man’s heart involuntarily quickened.

This mortuary was originally a Taoist temple, with many statues of immortals in the grand hall; long neglected and shrouded in shadows, they appeared imposing and oppressive, some with serene expressions, others with angry glare, all watching him.

The person in white clothes sat cross-legged beneath one of the statues, his features clear-cut, hair bound in a jade crown, his aura subtly merging with Heaven and Earth, hardly seeming of this world.

The man opened his eyes, a chill in his gaze making it seem as though the statue behind him was also opening its eyes. One in front of the other, with a three-foot distance, the large statue behind made the room seem even more spacious and profound.

He could hardly distinguish if the figure in front of him was a man or a deity. An overwhelming righteousness pressed down like a mountain, causing his breath to catch and his thoughts to halt.

Frozen for several breaths, the newcomer instinctively circulated his Inner Strength, forcibly breaking free from the mental oppression, then suddenly raised his hand to the sword hilt, clanging lightly as the sword sprung out, scattering cold light as he stabbed towards Wang Anfeng.

At this place and time, under the overwhelming sadness, the intent to kill boiled over.

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The sword shot straight towards him like a white rainbow.

Wang Anfeng, seemingly unconcerned, not hurriedly nor slowly stood up, stepping to one side as the longsword grazed past his temple, yet his heart remained undisturbed.

His eyes calm, breath still long.

He raised his right hand, his heart as still as a calm lake, his body as commanding as a majestic king establishing peace, flicked his fingers lightly on the sword edge.

It was as if ascetic monks were whispering in his heart.

From ancient times lands have mountains, insurmountably high, immeasurable...

Buddha said, ’A strong man moves a mountain.’

Buddhism’s secret techniques flowed in an instant from his heart, sketching left and right.

In that moment, he seemed to turn into a Buddhist strongman, a steadfast King, with immeasurable force surging through his body like fierce flames, yet his mind remained as still as a calm lake, without a single ripple arising.