Chapter 50: The Irresistible Red-Hooded Mage! Let's Speak Chinese!

A cold wind swept over the rooftop as a black plastic bag spun and drifted down, rustling softly. Zhai Qingwu tightened her clothes against the chill. She stared intently at the battle below and said, “Should we go down to help? That red hat guy is formidable; the Special Operations Ninth Bureau stands no chance.”

“Wait a little longer,” Zhou Quan’s eyes flickered. “There’s a capable fighter in the Ninth Bureau. Let him wear down the red hat first, then we can reap the benefits.” He was impressed by Fu Qingshan.

So far, Fu Qingshan was the only one who had resisted two teleportation assassination attempts purely through sheer strength, and he clearly had reserves left.

Zhai Qingwu frowned. “This red hat is tough. If we wait too long, he’ll kill everyone, and we’ll have to face him alone.”

“Werewolves’ teleportation is formidable.”

“But all extraordinary spellcasters are skilled at self-preservation. If your three strikes don’t kill him, then it’ll be his turn to kill you...”

“Wait a little longer,” Zhou Quan interrupted firmly. He wasn’t just waiting for Fu Qingshan to wear down the red hat—he was waiting for the Headless Rider.

Fu Qingshan fought for the divine remains to cure his sister’s illness; only such a motive could drive him to strike the righteous Headless Rider. Though the red hat was strong, the real show was the Headless Rider, who was currently hiding somewhere.

“Fine,” Zhai Qingwu pouted and continued watching.

“The blade wielder can’t even touch the red hat!”

“The red hat’s just playing with him!”

“The blade wielder’s out of options—aren’t we going to intervene?”

Zhai Qingwu turned with a puzzled look, thinking if they didn’t act soon, they’d have to face the boss alone.

At that moment, she realized Zhou Quan was gone.

“Hey, where did he go?”

...

Bone spikes split into more than ten branches midair, brushing against Qin Xue’s skin and forming a bony cage that tightly encased her neck, arms, waist, hips, and legs, rendering her immobile—like a bird trapped in a cage.

Qin Xue thought of Zhao Shuqin’s grim fate and struggled desperately, but the bone cage was incredibly firm, not even trembling slightly.

Fu Qingshan leapt forward, swinging his horse-cutting blade like the wind, fiercely slashing at the cage.

Crack!

The bone cage shattered with a snapping sound, pale fragments drifting in the wind.

“Ugh!” Qin Xue groaned softly.

The cage pressed close to her skin; part of Fu Qingshan’s force transferred to her. If he continued chopping, the cage might remain intact while her bones would break first.

Fu Qingshan realized this immediately.

His movements froze.

Zhao Shuqin’s corpse was still warm—a bitter lesson. He dared not hesitate, fearing a moment’s delay would turn Qin Xue into a bloodied “cactus” just like Zhao.

But if breaking the cage injured Qin Xue, turning her into a helpless, mobile target, her fate would be no better—still doomed to become a “cactus.”

Damn it! What should I do?

Sweat broke out on Fu Qingshan’s palms; he felt trapped.

“What should I do?” the red hat mocked, “Who dies first, you or her? Why don’t you decide?”

Fu Qingshan’s face darkened.

Bastard!

The fight isn’t over yet, and you already think you’ve got us cornered?

Sensing the red hat’s arrogance keenly, Fu Qingshan decisively abandoned Qin Xue and charged straight at the red hat.

Let him decide who dies first—that was to say if he attacked the red hat, the latter would deal with him first, then Qin Xue.

“Urayashira Uso...”

The red hat’s incantation was rapid, nearly instantaneous.

In the blink of an eye, a translucent glaze exploded, blasting Fu Qingshan away again.

This time, fortune was not on Fu Qingshan’s side—many shards of the glaze pierced his body like glass splinters.

He was battered and bruised.

Struggling to rise, black viscous liquid oozed from his wounds.

A strange stench spread through the air.

The black liquid covered Fu Qingshan’s body, forming a several-centimeter-thick shell of slowly writhing sticky fluid on his skin.

“Oh, so you’re a tar demon,” the red hat observed Fu Qingshan. “Enhanced physicality, rapid self-healing, and even a self-destruct ability. But your blood medium quality is low—that’s why the shell is so thin.”

He said disinterestedly, “Boring.”

Gripping his horse-cutting blade, Fu Qingshan leapt up and lunged at the red hat once more.

“Urayashira Uso...”

Boom!

Fu Qingshan was blasted away again, and before he could land, he collided with another translucent glaze, which sent him flying back towards the red hat.

Then came a third glaze.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Fu Qingshan bounced like a ball between two glaze shields, accumulating more and more shards embedded in his body.

The black sticky shell on him visibly thinned until it could no longer contain his body, revealing splotches of black and white, bloodied everywhere.

Boom!

Fu Qingshan collapsed, curling up. After several struggles, he couldn’t stand again.

He was no match for the red hat.

The red hat merely stood and spoke, casually overwhelming him without breaking into a sweat.

“Eh, time’s about up,” the red hat glanced at the dark area where the divine remains lay.

The dark zone had originally stretched over hundreds of square meters; now it was down to just a dozen, fading completely within two minutes.

“Goodbye.”

“Urayashira Uso...”

Fu Qingshan felt dizzy listening to the red hat’s spell.

Is this the end?

Reluctant but utterly exhausted, his eyes barely stayed open.

The world blurred into a vague slit...

Pop!

Suddenly, he heard a soft sound like a soap bubble bursting.

Then came the red hat’s furious shout.

“Who?!”

Gathering his last strength, Fu Qingshan snapped his eyes open.

A familiar figure stood behind the red hat, its shadow engulfing the red hat’s entire body. Thick claws pierced a cluster of crystalline light points, tearing them apart and stirring a glowing current, as if ripping open a dream.

Blackness clouded Fu Qingshan’s vision; he fainted.

The red hat looked up at the wolfman suddenly appearing behind him, horror flooding his soul.

As a spellcaster, nothing was more terrifying than a werewolf specializing in close combat getting right in his face.

His spell scroll was triggered!

That thing was expensive!

The red hat’s heart bled as he glared at the werewolf, grinding his teeth, “You can’t move now, little wolf!”

The werewolf tugged at his arm.

Everything else was fine, but his arm stuck in the light points felt like it was trapped in quicksand, unable to break free.

He stood his ground, locking eyes with the red hat.

“Die!”

The red hat snarled viciously, chanting, “Urayashira Uso...”

“Let’s speak Chinese!”

The werewolf suddenly said.

“Uh!”

The red hat’s voice cut off abruptly; he opened his mouth wide but no sound came out, like a drake strangled by the throat.