108: Chapter 108 Zhou Che makes his appearance

Zhuang Zeqiang flipped backward and fell flat on his back.

His nose was crooked, two front teeth were knocked out, and his mouth was full of blood.

All fighting in the back alley ceased in an instant.

Everyone looked toward the street corner.

Zhou Che walked out from the shadows, carrying the blood moon scepter on his shoulder.

He didn't walk quickly, but every step he took on the ground carried a sense of oppression.

His windbreaker was still stained with the black ash that had splattered when the Mannequin turned to dust.

His face was pale from exhaustion, and he held a blade of grass—pulled from who knows where—between his lips.

His eyes looked like he had just crawled out of a pile of corpses only to be dragged back to work overtime, radiating pure displeasure.

"Dawn." Zhou Che spat out the grass stalk and slammed the blood moon scepter into the ground, cracking three stone tiles. "My The Convoy."

He looked down at the blood-mouthed Zhuang Zeqiang.

He then glanced at the four Transcendent who were frozen in place nearby and said, enunciating every word:

"Who the hell hit my people?"

When Zhang Lijuan had discovered them earlier, she had already notified Zhou Che using a communication talisman.

Luo Xi walked out from the shadows beside Zhou Che.

She didn't speak, merely slamming her halberd onto the ground. The butt of the halberd struck the stone tiles, emitting a dull thud.

She swept a glance over Zhuang Zeqiang, then over the remaining four; her eyes looked at them as if they were already dead.

Zhuang Zeqiang scrambled up from the ground, holding his nose, his hands covered in blood, his missing front teeth causing him to lisp.

Just as he was about to spout threats, the moment he saw Luo Xi, the words stuck in his throat.

He didn't know what Sequence this woman was, but he was shaken by her aura!

Furthermore, on the blade of the halberd in her hand hung a layer of faint, almost invisible blood-light.

It looked like she had just slashed something and it hadn't dried yet.

"Fuck." Zhuang Zeqiang squeezed the word out through his gap-toothed mouth.

Zhou Che didn't look at him.

He pulled the two blindingly white bones from his bosom and weighed them in his hand.

Then, with a casual toss, he threw one to Wang Laowu and one to Wang Zhiming.

The bone flipped twice in the air. Wang Laowu reached out and caught it, nearly dropping it; it was heavier than he expected.

Wang Laowu looked down at the bone in his hand; it was stark white.

Wang Laowu gripped the bone, stunned for a moment.

He had seen Zhou Che pull these two bones out of the ash pile in the clothing store with his own eyes just a moment ago.

But he hadn't expected to be using one himself so soon.

He tried swinging it twice; it felt good, cool and warm in his hand.

Swinging it created a faint whistling sound, as if the bone itself were excited.

"Luo Xi." Zhou Che tilted his chin toward Zhuang Zeqiang. "Go, give them a hand."

Luo Xi looked at him.

Zhou Che's complexion was still pale, and his posture, leaning on the scepter, looked casual.

But she noticed his fingers were trembling slightly—the uncontrollable shaking of muscles after exhaustion.

He had poured all his Transcendent power into that one shot at Hongfan Plaza, and he was still extremely weak now.

"You stay here," Luo Xi said, instinctively concerned.

"What else?" Zhou Che laughed. "I'm just an audience member now. Hurry up."

Luo Xi didn't waste any more words; she raised her halberd and walked toward Zhuang Zeqiang.

Seeing Luo Xi walking toward him, Zhuang Zeqiang's pupils constricted.

He instinctively took half a step back, then realized he still had four brothers with him and roared through gritted teeth:

"What are you staring for! Attack together! They only have one more person, what is there to be afraid of!"

The second, third, fourth, and fifth brothers looked at each other and charged forward, steeling themselves.

Then they learned what a gap in strength meant.

Luo Xi didn't use any flashy moves.

She simply swept her halberd horizontally, the blade carving an arc through the air.

The second brother raised his blade to block, but the moment the blade collided with the halberd shaft...

He was sent flying, his back slamming into the street wall, causing plaster to rain down.

He looked down at the webbing between his thumb and index finger; it had split, and blood was dripping down the handle of his blade.

Wang Laowu was already engaging Zhuang Zeqiang.

He gripped the white bone in his hand as Zhuang Zeqiang lunged with two short daggers.

Wang Laowu dodged to the side and backhanded the bone against Zhuang Zeqiang's shoulder.

It wasn't a slash, nor a smash, just a tap.

The force wasn't great, the sound wasn't loud—just a dull thud, like chopsticks tapping on a table.

But Zhuang Zeqiang's shoulder, at the spot where he was struck, had faded.

The outline of his shoulder was still there, but the color had lightened by a layer.

It was as if someone had gently rubbed an eraser on paper, erasing a layer of color.

Zhuang Zeqiang didn't notice himself; he only felt a chill in his shoulder, thought nothing of it, and continued to thrust with his short daggers.

Wang Laowu noticed. He looked down at the bone in his hand, his eyes wide. "What the fuck?"

He struck again. This time, he hit Zhuang Zeqiang's waist.

Still a dull thud, without much force.

Zhuang Zeqiang's waist faded another layer, turning from his original dark clothing to a light gray, like faded fabric.

"Hahaha!" Wang Laowu laughed, his face crinkling up, revealing all his gums.

"Damn! So that's what this bone does!"

After laughing, he didn't hold back.

The bone in his hand spun like a windmill, striking Zhuang Zeqiang again and again.

Shoulder, arm, waist, leg—wherever it landed, it landed.

Zhuang Zeqiang tried to block, but his short daggers couldn't stop the bone's effect; every time they collided, the daggers also faded by a layer.

Zhuang Zeqiang tried to dodge, but Wang Laowu chased him down, striking like a madman.

The bone was swung so fast it created afterimages, dragging pale trails through the air.

Zhuang Zeqiang's body was fading bit by bit.

From normal color to light gray, from light gray to translucent, from translucent to transparent.

He could already see the ground beneath his arms, could see the cracks in the stone tiles behind his legs.

He looked down at his hands; his fingers were still there.

But through his fingers, he could faintly see Wang Laowu's face, grinning like a flower.

"Boss! Your hand!" the third brother yelped from the side.

Zhuang Zeqiang looked down and saw that his left hand, from the wrist down, had become completely transparent.

It was as if blocked by glass, but there was no glass; his hand was simply vanishing.

He could feel that his hand was still there, could move it, could make a fist, but it was no longer in this world.

He finally panicked.

The uncontrollable fear welling up from the bottom of his heart sent a chill down his spine.

He had seen strange killings, seen people torn apart, eaten, crushed into mud.

But he had never seen a situation like this: a person still alive, still able to move, but their body being erased bit by bit.

"Run!" Zhuang Zeqiang roared. "Scatter! Stop fighting! Run! Regroup later!"

He was the first to turn and bolt toward the east end of the back alley.

The second, third, fourth, and fifth brothers also turned simultaneously, scattering in different directions.

Five people, five directions, exploding outward like startled sparrows.

Zhuang Zeqiang ran the fastest, his legs blurring into afterimages; he had even thrown away his short daggers to travel light, running for his life.

He fled.

After running for several dozen meters, the cold wind rushed into his mouth, making the gap where his front teeth used to be feel chilly.

His lungs felt like they were about to explode, but he didn't dare stop. The footsteps behind him were growing fainter, and he thought he might have shaken them off.

Then, he looked up and saw Zhou Che.