212: Chapter 212 The Battle Between "Demons" and "Ghosts"

Chapter 212: Battle Between the "Fiend" and the "Ghost"

The darkness-shrouded factory resembled a slumbering behemoth, quietly waiting for intruders.

Looking up, crisscrossing pipes hung high overhead, resembling a cold, giant steel net.

Shifting the gaze downward, several corpses lay strikingly amidst the pile of abandoned machinery on the ground.

Their limbs were twisted and their expressions terrified, as if silently recounting the fierce battle that had taken place here not long ago.

The wind poured in through the damaged doors and windows, faintly carrying the mournful creaking sounds of "creak, creak."

A group of armed combatants silently closed in like a black tide.

They wore pitch-black combat uniforms and advanced tactical masks on their heads, with only pairs of eyes radiating a chilling frost.

The leading captain silently issued instructions through gestures, and the team members quickly dispersed in a fan shape, their movements uniform and well-trained.

Deep in the darkness, Fang Cheng quietly lurked among several towering pieces of machinery, his motionless figure blending into the surrounding rust- and oil-stained environment.

His eyes were like stars in a cold night, shimmering slightly with light, and his ears were like precision radar, capturing even the tiniest movements around him in all directions without blind spots.

Suddenly, a barely audible footstep reached his ears, approaching this place.

As if a hunting trap had been triggered, Fang Cheng instantly and accurately judged the enemy's position.

The muscles throughout his body immediately activated, gripping a dagger in reverse with the blade tip pointing downward, concealing its chilling edge within his palm.

Then, moving silently along the shadows of the machinery, he crept step by step to the side of the target.

He was like a leopard hidden in the dark night, ready to pounce at any moment.

Puchi!

With a soft sound, Fang Cheng struck like lightning, slicing across the enemy's throat with the dagger.

The sound of blood splashing echoed briefly in the silent workshop, only to be quickly swallowed by the darkness.

That team member widened his eyes, his hands instinctively covering his throat in an attempt to stop the gushing blood, but it was all in vain.

Fang Cheng was quick-witted and agile; instead of letting him fall and make a noise, he covered his mouth, carefully supported his shoulder, and gently laid him on the ground as if placing a fragile item.

The entire process was as smooth as flowing clouds and moving water, without stirring up a single ripple.

However, just as he finished dealing with the corpse, the beam of a high-powered flashlight pierced the darkness like a sharp sword, shining directly at his hiding spot.

Immediately following, "da, da, da," bullets whistled in, striking the machinery and pipes, sending sparks flying amidst the metal collisions.

The surroundings instantly became noisy; gunshots, shouts, and commands from the walkie-talkies intertwined.

The deliberately created serene atmosphere from just moments ago was thoroughly shattered.

The entire workshop seemed to have exploded; gunfire raged, and muzzle flashes burst forth.

Amidst the hail of bullets, Fang Cheng dodged left and right, continuously vaulting over obstacles and shuttling between the crisscrossing pipes.

Relying on the Memory Palace formed in his mind beforehand and his familiarity with the workshop environment, he quickly transferred to another predetermined hunting position.

As he pressed closely against the cold, rust-covered machine body, holding his breath and trying to blend back into this darkness,

he keenly perceived footsteps surrounding him from all directions.

These footsteps were steady and orderly, as if they had mastered some high-tech equipment or special method for searching out hidden targets.

Clearly, after the previous brief confrontation, the opponents had quickly made effective tactical adjustments, forming an encirclement with the intention of trapping him in this area.

"In that case..."

A fierce, cold gleam flashed in Fang Cheng's eyes. He tightly gripped the dagger in his hand and gave it a light flick to shake off the blood droplets.

With his brain operating at high speed, he quickly calculated the footsteps and breathing coming from around him.

Soon, he roughly determined that there were still thirteen enemies distributed within the encirclement, along with their respective positions and distance differences.

Having made his decision, Fang Cheng then crouched low, gazing with coiled readiness at the figures emerging in the darkness.

Suddenly pushing off with the soles of his feet, his figure instantly bolted out like an arrow off a bowstring, charging toward the team member closest to him.

That person perceived the abnormal movement, his pupils contracting sharply as he was about to raise his gun.

Fang Cheng's figure had already cut low into his embrace like a ghost, carrying a fatal determination. The five fingers of his left hand were like steel hooks, locking onto the opponent's finger that was pulling the trigger.

Then, exerting sudden force to twist, with a crisp "crack" sound, the finger bones broke right on cue.

Before the scream could rush out of his throat, the dagger tightly held in Fang Cheng's right hand had already traced a chilling arc in the air, cutting into the enemy's throat.

An arrow of blood instantly spurted out, and the warm fresh blood splattered onto the ferocious, fiend-like mask.

That team member widened his eyes, his body instantly collapsing limply.

Almost simultaneously, the other two team members on the left had already heard the sound and rushed over to support, opening fire without hesitation even while running.

Bang, bang, bang!

Bullets whistled past Fang Cheng's side, striking the neighboring pipes and splashing a string of sparks.

Fang Cheng's gaze was calm as water. He quickly reacted by using that team member's corpse as cover, while grabbing the assault rifle in his hand and decisively pulling the trigger.

Instantly, the rifle chamber roared, spitting tongues of fire as he engaged in a fierce exchange of gunfire with the opponents.

Bang, bang!

Two bullets aimed at the target under Eagle Eye Vision, tracing an infallible trajectory and striking the unproctected necks.

Those two team members running and shooting tumbled forward uncontrollably, crashing heavily onto the concrete ground with a muffled sound.

And just as the bullets were fired, without waiting to confirm that the targets were killed, Fang Cheng turned around without hesitation, pulled the trigger again, and unleashed another round of sweeping fire.

At this moment, three team members happened to be encircling from behind in a triangular formation, and upon seeing this, they panicked and hurriedly dodged.

Taking advantage of the brief suppressive fire, Fang Cheng discarded the empty-magazined assault rifle, his figure moving incessantly as he slipped like a loach into the gap of a nearby pipe.

His steps were light and agile, leaping and shuttling between the pipes like an ape.

Relying on his familiarity with the workshop environment, after circling around, he reappeared directly above those three team members who were communicating via walkie-talkies and searching for targets.

Overlooking from above, Fang Cheng spotted the gap while the enemies were changing magazines, and instantly launched a surprise attack like a deity descending from heaven.

Utilizing the momentum of his leap downward, Fang Cheng raised his right elbow high and fiercely smashed it toward the head of one of them.

With a muffled "bang," that person's head was struck as if by a heavy hammer; his mask and skull shattered together, and he died instantly without even making a sound.

The moment he landed, Fang Cheng naturally crouched lower, and taking advantage of the other two's failure to react, delivered a sweeping kick that snapped the tibias of one person's legs.

At the critical juncture, he quickly dodged a barrage of bullets fired from the side.

Then, accelerating with Dance of Lightning, his left leg slashed out fiercely like a battleaxe, kicking the other shooting team member—along with his gun—hard toward the other pursuers following closely behind.

This kick carried fatal power, like a truck hitting someone and sending them flying. While killing the target, it also leveraged the momentum to block the line of sight and firepower attacks of the latecomers.

Not giving them a chance to breathe, Fang Cheng reversed the dagger in his hand, then rushed rapidly into the chaotic crowd like a black lightning bolt, fiercely engaging in close-quarters combat.

Amidst the disorderly gunshots, tongues of fire erupted and cold light flashed.

Slitting throats, stabbing chests, joint locking, breaking bones, disarming guns, counterattacking.

The movements were smooth and coherent, cleanly sending them to the netherworld as large pools of blood instantly flowed onto the ground.

Without pausing to catch his breath for even half a second, he heard the footsteps of more pursuers approaching from behind.

Fang Cheng immediately turned around, once again firing to suppress while dodging and retreating, readjusting his offensive rhythm.

Just like that, utilizing the maze-like complex terrain to continually maneuver with these pursuers, he employed thunderous means to defeat them one by one and hunt them down.

A few minutes later.

The smoke of battle drifted away in the workshop, returning it to dead silence.

The faint moonlight filtered through the shattered windows, dimly illuminating a scene baptized by the fires of war.

The machinery and equipment were covered in potholes, appearing even more dilapidated and unlivable.

The paint on the pipes peeled off, covered in bullet holes, exposing their rusted interiors.

Corpses were scattered haphazardly everywhere, all of them dying in shocking ways.

Some had their throats slit by sharp blades, flesh rolled outward, looking grotesque and terrifying.

Some had their limbs twisted, evidently having suffered heavy blunt impacts, with stark white broken bones protruding through the flesh.

The dark red blood had long converged into streams, winding along the ground and emitting a pungent, fishy odor.

The masterless dropped headset emitted a "zizhi" static noise, appearing exceptionally grating in the midst of silence.

Crack.

A pitch-black figure emerged from the darkness, raising a foot to step over the corpse and crush the headset.

The fiend-like mask appeared cold and ruthless, but the pupils behind the goggles faintly flickered with red light.

Prompts regarding combat experience floated before his eyes.

[Boxing Experience + 13]

[Sanda Experience + 15]

[Muay Thai Experience + 25]

[Jiu-Jitsu Experience + 20]

[Tai Chi Experience + 15]

[Blade Technique Experience + 20]

[Marksmanship Experience + 25]

Exhaling a cold puff of white breath from the mask's vent, Fang Cheng raised his eyes and swept his gaze around.

No other figures appeared in his field of vision; it seemed that the enemies in this area had been completely cleared out.

"If those gunmen who appeared on the top floor of the workshop are all the personnel, right now there might only be left..."

While he was calculating in his mind, Fang Cheng's heart suddenly leaped, and the hair on his arms stood on end.

He immediately threw himself sideways without hesitation.

And the moment Fang Cheng lunged out, a cold gleam suddenly flashed, as if appearing out of thin air, sharply sweeping past the spot where he had just been standing.

Chi!

Accompanied by a sharp tearing sound of fabric, a slit was cut into the clothes at his shoulder.

Fang Cheng rolled on the ground to a spot several meters away, quickly raising his head to look at the ambusher.

But no figure was seen; there was only a dagger floating strikingly in the air, shimmering with a cold luster under the faint moonlight.

As if controlled by a ghost, it exuded endless weirdness.

Failing to hit with its first strike, the dagger did not stop; immediately closing in again, it stabbed directly at Fang Cheng's throat.

Its speed was like a shooting star in the dark night, leaving people no time to even blink.

Nor did it leave Fang Cheng any room to catch his breath or react.

Faced with such a bizarre scene, Fang Cheng had no time to think carefully. Leaning backward, twisting his waist and abdomen, and violently pushing off the ground with his legs, his entire body instantly slid out close to the ground.

As he slid past a corpse, he casually grabbed the assault rifle discarded on the ground, and without even time to get up, opened fire toward the direction from which the dagger struck.

Da, da, da, da, da!

Bullets swept across like a swarm of bees, instantly illuminating a small area.

At the same time, they whistled through the air, searching for enemies that might be hidden within.

However, apart from bullets hitting the surrounding machinery and pipes, splashing strings of sparks and flying debris, no trace of the ambusher was found.

Even that dagger had vanished into thin air.

There were not many bullets left in the rifle, and they were quickly expended.

The surroundings returned to darkness once more, suffocatingly tranquil.

Yet Fang Cheng could clearly feel that danger still lingered like a shadow, lurking in some invisible corner, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

Suddenly, a chill came from his shoulder, accompanied by a faint sensation of numbness and itching.

Seeing his clothes torn open, a fine dark-red bloodline distinctly oozed out on the exposed muscle.

Fang Cheng glanced at it, his heart tightening involuntarily.

This dagger could easily slice through the tough fabric of the combat uniform and leave a wound on his body, showing that its sharpness was extraordinary.

Right at this moment, a voice sounded eerily:

"You have pretty fast reflexes."

That voice was cold, gloomy, and carried a hint of mockery.

Echoing in this dead-silent workshop, it sounded as if a ghost was truly talking to him.

Fang Cheng instantly raised his spirit to the ultimate level, activating Eagle Eye Vision, and swept his torch-like gaze toward the source of the voice.

Trying to drag out that guy who was hiding in the darkness and playing the ghost.

However, inside the workshop, aside from the pitch-black contours of various mechanical equipment, no other slightly abnormal shadow could be found.

The opponent obviously possessed some extremely special ability.

It seemed to integrate the body into the background light wave refraction, thereby achieving the effect of optical stealth.

And like him, it could suppress breathing and heartbeat sounds, and even eliminate footsteps and body odor molecules when moving.

That was why it appeared so elusive, making it difficult even for Fang Cheng to detect the existence of its true body.

The reason he was able to react in time and dodge the fatal move just now when the opponent launched a surprise attack without warning

was entirely thanks to his mental attribute exceeding 40 points, which caused him to trigger a sixth sense for danger.

After pausing for a moment, that voice spoke again:

"However, if you can only reach this level, I'm afraid you won't be able to cause any harm to me."

Fang Cheng sneered and replied, "Is that so? You can try again."

"Oh, do you still have some hidden fatal ultimate move?"

The voice carried mockery, clearly dismissive of Fang Cheng's words.

With a torch-like gaze, Fang Cheng stared closely at the direction the voice came from and said:

"You must be the commander of this team. Since I could wipe out your subordinates, dealing with you is naturally a piece of cake."

The owner of that voice was precisely the Ghost who had been watching the battle from the monitoring room earlier.

He secretly directed the battle, deliberately waiting until Fang Cheng let down his guard before launching a fatal strike.

Unfortunately, it did not succeed as expected.

Subsequently, the Ghost let out a cold chuckle. Instead of being enraged by this, he asked in a deep voice:

"Since you dare to make an enemy of our Noah Organization, you should have some background. You wouldn't just be a nobody, right?"

The corners of Fang Cheng's mouth curved up slightly, revealing a trace of disdain:

"The things your organization has done arouse the indignation of both gods and men, and everyone has the right to execute you. As for what background I have, you don't need to know; either way, you won't be leaving today."

The two of them hurled trash talk at each other, seemingly both waiting for something.

Although Fang Cheng appeared very arrogant at the moment, his mind was extremely calm, magnifying his five-sense perception to the limit with the intention of locking onto the enemy's trace.

After waiting for a moment, seeing that Fang Cheng was still full of vigor, the Ghost couldn't help but mock:

"Next, the intensity of my attacks will double. I hope your skills are as hard as your mouth."

Finishing his words, along with the disappearance of his voice, his entire person seemed to completely slip into the darkness, like a drop of water blending into black ink, leaving not a single trace.

Fang Cheng only felt a strong aura of danger surrounding him, as if a pair of invisible hands were slowly choking his throat.

For this attack, the dagger in the opponent's hand had unexpectedly turned invisible as well.

The threat concealed in the darkness was as elusive as a ghost.

However, Fang Cheng suddenly raised his eyes, staring intently in a certain direction.

Although the opponent could mask their own scent, heartbeat, breathing, and footsteps, it was very difficult to cover up all movement when launching an attack.

Thinking of this, Fang Cheng's gaze grew even sharper, like a falcon locking onto its prey.

The surrounding air emitted an extremely subtle flowing sound, as if a string had been gently plucked, producing ripples.