Chapter 219

Chapter 219: White Angel

A punch straight to the center.

Lin Bian crumbled to the ground, his body falling limp.

His abdomen had been ripped open by the horrifying blow, blood gushing from the gaping wound. Yet Lin Bian was no ordinary man. As a Potential Crown-level extraordinary, he had always served as an archer. Still, his physical endurance far surpassed that of common folk.

Had he been a mere mortal, that strike would have obliterated him instantly, reducing him to nothing but shattered remains.

Tao Wu stood there, unmoved. His eyes betrayed no emotion as he calmly stepped forward.

“Damn it!”

A bloodied hand reached out, grabbing tightly onto Tao Wu’s foot. It trembled but held firm.

“We walk alone in the night…

In the endless darkness, we are humans, elves, dwarves, orcs…”

Lin Bian coughed, blood spilling from his lips as he spoke through ragged breaths.

“We are the ones who bear the lantern in the dark, the ones who keep watch.”

His laughter, wild and unrestrained, echoed through the air. Blood poured from his wound, pooling beneath him, but he refused to let go of Tao Wu.

Tao Wu didn’t bother to glance at him. His strength was overwhelming, dragging Lin Bian forward effortlessly, leaving a trail of blood and viscera behind.

Images swirled in Lin Bian’s fading vision.

The “Tower” incident.

That timid boy named Alan, who had been caught in the chaos, losing an eye in the process. Though his body was later restored, fear had taken root deep in his soul.

Lin Bian still remembered the day they met. Alan had been a scrawny, silent figure curled in a corner, refusing to speak.

The Demon Hunt Agency, ever

practical, deemed Alan a

potential recruit. They spared

his memories, allowing him to

linger in terror rather than

granting him peace.

Lin Bian, tasked with

overseeing the boy during his

recovery, had reluctantly taken

him home for a week. It was

then that Alan met Lin Bian’s

daughter, and the two became

fast friends.

In an attempt to ease the boy’s

fear, Lin Bian had shared

stories of his exploits. He

spoke of courage, of triumphs,

painting Night Watchers as

heroes cloaked in darkness,

ensuring peace for the city.

Alan listened intently, his

interest in the Night Watchers

reignited. Before leaving, the

boy had asked:

“Do you think I can become a

Night Watcher too?”

Lin Bian had hesitated before

replying solemnly, “We are

unseen, gods to none. We pay

the price silently, dying in

corners unknown. Alan, I don’t

want you to be a Night

Watcher.”

Now, as Tao Wu entered the

elevator, Lin Bian clung to the

door, his grip weakening.

“I can’t let you go…” he

whispered, a faint grin on his

bloodied face.

Tao Wu looked down, his gaze

questioning.

Why don’t you let go?

Lin Bian, coughing violently, blood pouring from his mouth, answered, “There are too many reasons, but I’m tired… and I don’t feel like explaining to someone like you.”

Tao Wu stepped out of the elevator, his fist tightening.

Boom!

The blow shattered the ground beneath Lin Bian, silencing him forever.

Tao Wu turned away, stepping into the elevator. As it descended to the seventh underground floor, silence filled the space.

The elevator doors slid open.

Tao Wu emerged, his blood-soaked form stark against the pristine white floor and black ceiling.

Before him stood Mr. Trap, Director of the Demon Hunt Agency, frail yet resolute in his white suit. His gaze fell on Tao Wu, dimming with grief as he registered the blood that painted his enemy—a grim testimony to the lives lost.

Without a word, Mr. Trap twisted the “King Solomon’s Magic Jar” in his hand.

Black mist poured forth,

coalescing into a flaming

demon that roared as it lunged

at Tao Wu.

Tao Wu didn’t flinch. He met

the attack head-on with a

devastating punch.

Bang!

The demon shattered but

began to reform immediately,

sneering as if mocking the

futility of resistance.

Tao Wu’s stance shifted.

Waves of water surged around

him, rising like a tsunami.

Flow of the Heart: Running

Water.

The demon was consumed, its

flames extinguished in an

instant.

More demons crawled from

the jar—a three-headed

monstrosity, crimson and

grotesque, followed by others.

As chaos unfolded, the ceiling

above cracked open.

Boom!

Descending from the heavens

was a towering, 15-meter-tall

white mecha, its weight

shaking the earth.

Amy, watching from afar,

controlled the machine with

precision. Her thoughts

drifted.

“Is this salvation? Or

manipulation?”

She named her creation White

Angel—a testament to its

overwhelming presence.

The battle raged on, each side

unyielding. Tao Wu’s fists tore

through enemies, while the

White Angel launched a

barrage of missiles. Yet, no

matter the assault, Tao Wu

remained standing, bloodied

but unbroken.

The battle seemed endless,

the air thick with despair.

Still, Tao Wu pressed forward,

unrelenting.

In the end, victory lay far from

sight. As new horrors

emerged, Tao Wu prepared for

the final confrontation.

This was a war where gods

bled, demons roared, and

mortals fought in the shadows

of giants.