Chapter 219
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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.
