457: The Emperor's New Clothes

Shen Bei’s disguise wasn’t just about the Great Thousand Countenances Technique.

He also had a bird-beak mask, similar to those worn by medieval European doctors, which he’d found in a corner while cleaning his dorm.

It was probably a prop bought by the previous student for pranks.

“If I’m not mistaken, this is my first time actively going after the Apocalypse Cult…”

Excluding previous coincidences and accidental encounters, after thinking it over, this really was Shen Bei’s first time actively hunting Apocalypse Cult members.

He couldn’t help but feel a little excited.

An unexpected encounter was nowhere near as satisfying as stalking prey.

“I wonder if Two Headed Vine’s intelligence is accurate.”

Shen Bei had no time to ponder such things now.

He could only push forward.

For Shen Bei, whether it was the Headhunter Tribe or the Apocalypse Cult,

there was only one word for them: Kill, kill, kill!

Besides killing, there was no other choice!

Around nine in the evening, Shen Bei took a bus to the “secluded street” prominently marked in the intelligence report.

He wondered if the Sheepskin Assassin would be interested in Shen Bei’s disguise.

“If I could use myself as bait to lure him out, that would save a lot of trouble, but if I were him, seeing an unknown person standing under a streetlamp at night, waiting for someone, wouldn’t I become wary?”

Thinking this, Shen Bei decided to hide in the shadows of a nearby alley first, monitoring the street’s movements.

Half an hour later.

Shen Bei thought Two Headed Vine’s intelligence was somewhat unreliable.

The Sheepskin Assassin didn’t appear in the specified alley.

Instead, he appeared in an adjacent alley to the “specified alley”…

“I’ll reluctantly forgive you.”

Shen Bei mumbled.

This was Shen Bei’s first time seeing the Sheepskin Assassin in reality; he was different from what Shen Bei had imagined.

Perhaps the “wearing a sheepskin with painted face” attire was too prominent as a character trait, so Shen Bei had always imagined him as a “priest from an ancient savage tribe.”

But in reality, this man was wearing a dirty blue work uniform, yellow rubber gloves on his hands, and a pair of very old, unwashed gray… possibly originally white, flat shoes. He looked like a worker from a car repair shop who was rushing to a costume party with old high school classmates, so he had to change into tribal priest attire and apply face paint while on the way, but carelessly forgot to take off his original clothes.

He was probably over forty, with a potbelly and sagging skin; this mismatched attire was undeniably comical.

But beyond the comical aspect, such an outfit, according to the customs of the underground, carried a serious meaning.

Shen Bei had really brushed up on the customs of the underground recently.

These customs had about a forty percent similarity to those on earth's surface.

That is to say, a certain custom or tradition from the underground could find its corresponding prototype or trace within a certain ethnic group on earth's surface.

As for the significance of studying underground customs, there is no definitive answer yet.

But there is a theory that the Stranger (Yi Ren) of the underground and the humans of earth's surface might share a common origin.

However, their appearances are too different, much like gorillas and hominids.

They are somewhat similar, but to call them the same species would be a stretch.

So, for now, until there is substantive evidence, conjecture can only remain conjecture.

Now, let’s focus on the Sheepskin Assassin.

His attire clearly carried a hint of underground metaphysics.

In the very distant ancient times of the underground, wild people liked to hunt sheep. Sheep were not as fierce as wild boars, not as strong as cattle, nor as agile as rats and rabbits. They had plenty of meat, lived in groups, and were foolish. Some experienced hunters could even wear sheep horns and sheepskin to blend in and easily hunt sheep.

This primitive and crude disguise was the earliest form of “feigned appearance.”

The underground hunters superstitiously believed that their consistently successful hunting techniques contained a naturally mysterious ritualistic quality. Thus, a very small number of hunters who possessed True Qi relied on this superstition to develop this “hunting technique” into a “hunting Spell,” making people or animals who should be hostile to them treat them as companions, or ignore them as if they were ordinary passersby.

By now, this “feigned appearance technique” had been replaced by the better Spell, the Great Thousand Countenances Technique, and relegated to a niche Spell.

When Shen Bei first heard about the Sheepskin Assassin’s attire and his elusive track record, although he was somewhat skeptical, he was still a bit unsure, but he actually did it.

This gave Shen Bei the feeling of witnessing a chef personally starting a fire by rubbing sticks together in a modern urban kitchen.

At this point, there was no need to say more; the Sheepskin Assassin was no longer “very likely a Martial Artist.”

He was one.

See, this was the result of Shen Bei’s learning, immediate and revealing the truth.

Shen Bei couldn’t help but exclaim: Knowledge is truly power, damn it.

Shen Bei swaggered out of the shadows at the alley entrance and approached the Sheepskin Assassin.

He wasn’t afraid of being exposed; he was here to catch him, not to assassinate him in secret and then leave so cleanly.

A face-to-face encounter was a perfectly normal and necessary procedure.

At the same time, the feigned appearance technique was useless against Shen Bei.

To put it bluntly, Shen Bei possessed more mental resistance than anyone else in this world.

In this regard, perhaps only General could compare with him.

Everyone else was dried vegetables.

In other words, when the feigned appearance technique acted upon Shen Bei, his mind simply didn’t realize the fact that he had been affected.

And in the world of the mind, “not realizing” is equivalent to “not existing.”

It’s like telling a joke to a deaf person from behind them; they wouldn’t know where the punchline of the joke was, or even where the joke was, or even where you were.

“Mental resistance is definitely one of the most practical aspects of the Fifth Dimension.”

Shen Bei thought as he walked.

How many times had he achieved extraordinary feats by relying on 100% mental immunity?

At this moment, the Sheepskin Assassin was not alone; he had a female companion, about twenty-something, dressed in casual clothes like an urban white-collar worker out shopping after work, chatting and laughing with the Sheepskin Assassin.

From the woman’s demeanor, she didn’t seem to be a Martial Artist.

This puzzled Shen Bei somewhat.

This woman neither cared about the Sheepskin Assassin’s extremely bizarre attire nor noticed his gaze filled with sticky malice.

“I forgot to ask earlier, what’s your name?”

The woman asked with a beaming smile. She didn’t even know the Sheepskin Assassin’s name, and she showed no caution about him bringing her to such a secluded place, as if she were hypnotized.

Undoubtedly, she was the Sheepskin Assassin’s prey for the night.

“You can call me ‘Demon,’ anyway, you’ll be screaming that soon enough without me telling you.”

The Sheepskin Assassin grinned sinisterly, his facial paint combining to exude a savage, bloody flavor.

Even so, the woman couldn’t raise her guard, merely smiling and responding, “You’re so funny.”

“I’m not joking, there have already been some…” The Sheepskin Assassin was about to continue, but at this moment, Shen Bei walked up to them and stopped. He paused, “…Hmm?”

Shen Bei stood brazenly in front of the two, a smile on his face that was hard to decipher.

“Excuse me, do you need help?” the woman asked concernedly.

“I think, you need a little help.”

Shen Bei said bluntly, then turned to the Sheepskin Assassin: “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Sheepskin Assassin: ????