Chapter 218

Chapter 218: Tao Wu

Platinum Zone, Demon Hunt Agency

The rain poured endlessly, cascading down the streets with a relentless force. The city seemed to be drowning in its sorrow, and the people had long ceased to wonder when it might stop. Whispers of impending floods haunted the lower neighborhoods, a terror as real as the storm itself.

Inside the Demon Hunt Agency, the atmosphere was tense. The agency had dispatched many of its Night Watchers to counter the Black Star Faction’s calculated assault. It was a strategy as old as it was noble: protect the people, even at the cost of weakening their stronghold.

For that was the role of the Night Watcher—a guardian who braves the darkness, lantern in hand.

Outside the agency, a gaunt figure in black stood motionless. His soaked silhouette bore the weight of the storm, his presence as silent as the falling rain. After a long moment, he moved forward, his steps purposeful and unyielding.

Tao Wu approached the iron gates of the Demon Hunt Agency, his momentum unstoppable.

The gates—fortified steel meant to withstand the strongest of assaults—bent and shattered before him, crumpling like paper. Tao Wu continued forward without pause, leaving behind a perfect, humanoid hole in the mangled metal.

He entered the courtyard, his gaze fixed on the glass doors ahead. Each step was deliberate, an unspoken declaration of his power.

Inside, the agency’s surveillance systems caught his approach. The infamous name spread quickly among those present: Tao Wu, the strongest traitor in the history of Candlelight School, one of Heart City’s major factions. Once the chief disciple of the school’s leader, he had become their greatest shame.

Tao Wu was deaf and mute but wielded a terrifying strength. His ability to read lips allowed him to grasp conversations without uttering a word. His silence, coupled with his unmatched power, earned him the moniker “Silent Beast.”

As Tao Wu stepped into the agency’s first-floor hall, the glass doors slid open. Inside stood a lone figure, waiting.

“The main entrance guard is me,” the man in white declared calmly. His voice carried a quiet confidence. “My strength is equivalent to 100 ordinary Night Watchers.”

He was Raven Reaper, Mo, clad in a pristine white suit and a raven-shaped bronze mask. Mo, known for his exceptional combat prowess, gazed at Tao Wu with a steady resolve.

The two adversaries stood in stark contrast. Tao Wu, the silent mountain, and Mo, the wind ready to strike.

“Why did you join the Black Star Faction?” Mo asked, his voice firm. “You were not a criminal, were you?”

Tao Wu did not answer. His eyes, steady as stone, met Mo’s gaze, revealing nothing but calm determination. Communication was futile; his silence was absolute.

Mo moved first, becoming a blur as he launched into his attack. His speed was unparalleled, the hall echoing with the explosive sound of his blows.

But Tao Wu did not flinch. He stood like a fortress, unyielding and immovable.

Bang! Bang! Bang! The hall resonated with the clash of fists against an unbreakable defense. For a minute, Mo delivered a flurry of strikes, each faster and fiercer than the last.

Then, it stopped.

Mo stepped back, his hands trembling, blood dripping from his battered knuckles.

“Is this what it means to

master ‘Heavy Rock’ and

‘Diamond Flow of the Heart?’”

Mo muttered, his voice tinged

with exhaustion. “You are as

unyielding as a true

diamond…”

Finally, Tao Wu moved.

His fist, seemingly frail, swung

forward with a force that felt

like the weight of the Earth

itself. The air around him

trembled, his strike aimed with

the precision of a master.

Mo attempted to counter,

using every ounce of his

strength and skill. But Tao

Wu’s blow shattered his

defenses, sending him

crashing to the ground.

As Mo’s consciousness faded

, he realized the gap between

them. Tao Wu was no ordinary

man—he was a walking

calamity, the embodiment of

unshakable strength.

The elevator descended

silently. Tao Wu stood alone,

his destination clear: the

seventh underground floor,

where the Demon Hunt

Agency’s most critical secret

lay.

But as the elevator doors

opened, he was greeted not by

silence but by resistance.

First Underground Floor

Dozens of Night Watchers

surrounded the elevator,

weapons drawn. Among them

stood Adelaide, Lin Bian, and

Holly.

Tao Wu stepped out, his

stance unchanged. His dark

eyes swept across the room,

calculating.

Adelaide struck first, her

lightning-and-frost spear

thrusting forward. Tao Wu

caught it with ease, his grip

unyielding. With a single push,

he forced her to her knees.

Holly followed with her own

attack, her fists a blur of raw

power. Tao Wu met her strike,

restraining her with a single

hand. Despite her strength, she

could not break free.

Lin Bian and the others

attacked in unison, their magic

and weaponry filling the air

with light and sound. The room

trembled under the onslaught,

but Tao Wu remained.

One by one, the Night

Watchers fell. Adelaide’s

weapon shattered. Holly was

thrown against a wall, her body

crumpling as she lost

consciousness.

Tao Wu stood amidst the

chaos, unscathed.

Lin Bian stepped forward, a

grim smile on his face. “This is

it,” he muttered. “If I die, I’ll

make sure you die too.”

Seventh Underground Floor

A lone figure stood before a

gray door, the final defense of

the Demon Hunt Agency.

Mr. Trap, the elderly director,

held an ancient, rusted jar in

his hands—King Solomon’s

Magic Jar, a Civilization-level

Relic capable of unimaginable

power.

The elevator opened, revealing

not Tao Wu but a mass of

deep blue slime.

Mr. Trap narrowed his eyes as

the Fusion Slime crawled

forward, its gurgling sound

oddly cheerful.

“…Friend or foe?” he

murmured, tightening his grip

on the relic.

The silence stretched, the

storm above echoing far

below.