Chapter Fifty-One: Domesticated and Wild

Zhang Changlin's expression was grim.

He glanced around; what unfolded before his eyes was the ruin of a once-glorious foot massage parlor.

Dust coated the floor, black moss clung to the walls, the air was thick with the musty stench of mold and a nauseating mélange of other foul odors.

There was no doubt—he had been dragged into a nightmare disaster by a dream fiend.

“A forcefully triggered nightmare disaster, likely ignited by detonating a forbidden artifact as its core.”

“So, this was all premeditated.”

Zhang Changlin’s already dark complexion turned even blacker.

He was concerned for Du Fang’s safety. Though he knew Du Fang was skilled in combat, if he were to encounter a high-tier dream fiend…

Even Zhang Changlin could not guarantee that Du Fang would survive until he broke through the nightmare disaster.

He needed to act fast.

The Sequence Forbidden Artifact—098—was not on his person. In that case, he would have to rely on his special ability.

Zhang Changlin closed his eyes.

For an instant, the world fell utterly silent, the drop of a pin audible.

Countless dream spirits were compressed into his heart.

He listened to its rhythm—each beat growing faster, like a car engine roaring to life, spitting flames, terrifying power surging through his veins and into every corner of his body.

In the next moment,

He opened his eyes.

His appearance changed.

It was as if his blood was boiling.

Golden flame patterns appeared around his eyes, running back to the roots of his ears.

His pupils turned the color of molten gold.

Each strand of hair flickered like fire, ethereal and ever-burning.

“Lionfire State!”

Zhang Changlin growled.

He seemed like a furious fire lion; fire rippled outward from his feet, setting this cold, pitch-black nightmare disaster ablaze, scorching it with heat.

This was Zhang Changlin's special ability—a physical enhancement.

When unleashed, it burned up dream spirits at a rapid pace, converting them into raw physical strength.

Normally, Zhang Changlin avoided using this power.

Not even in the desperate straits of the last double-layered nightmare disaster had he resorted to it; he had preferred to take his chances with a forbidden artifact.

But this time,

Worried for Du Fang, Old Zhang made the choice.

For no other reason than this: the side effects of using such a body-based special ability were immense—potentially even burning away his own life.

Zhang Changlin’s frame swelled, becoming massive. The firelight dyed his dark face a glowing red.

He raised his hand to the side.

A deep, resonant voice seemed to echo from his throat.

“Blade, come.”

A piercing shriek!

The broken forbidden blade he’d left in the locker room shuddered violently.

It smashed through wall after wall,

Swept down the corridor,

And crashed into the room where Zhang Changlin stood, landing in his hand.

He gripped the blade; firelight surged into its steel.

With a single slash,

The nightmare disaster enfolding him—the hideous, twisted creatures crawling from the ruined bathhouse walls—were obliterated, vanishing like mist before dawn.

Everything around him returned to how it had been before he was dragged into the nightmare.

Three shriveled human skins remained on the floor.

Zhang Changlin strode from the room.

After he left,

With a soft thud,

From the room’s ceiling, the forbidden artifact responsible for unleashing the nightmare—a staff badge from the foot massage parlor—dropped to the ground, still steaming from the fire, cleaved clean in two.

A writhing shadow struggled out from within, only to shatter and dissipate, its soul scattered to the winds.

...

Old Chang, the driver, clutched at his eyes, trembling all over.

He had seen.

He had seen it!

Good lord, it was terrifying!

Such a grisly death!

The dream fiend from a grade-seven eldritch nightmare disaster... had been eaten!

Never in his life had Old Chang imagined witnessing a dream fiend being devoured—such a brutal scene.

At first, he’d been worried for Du Fang, afraid that the body the master had his eye on would be possessed by the high-tier fiend from the grade-seven nightmare.

He had even been ready to intervene and save Du Fang.

But reality was harsher than he could accept.

Suddenly, Old Chang understood why, last time, the master had shouted so loudly for him to drive faster.

So this unassuming youth... held such unfathomable terror!

Sweat broke out in cold beads on Old Chang’s brow as he tried, inch by inch, to withdraw his snooping eyeball.

He dared not make a sound.

But...

Inside the room,

The little girl, holding Du Fang’s hand and clutching the pink pig plushie that had just devoured the dream fiend, suddenly lifted her head and looked straight in the direction of his spying eye.

She grinned, revealing a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth and a tongue covered in barbs.

With a snap,

Her tongue shot out.

Darkness.

For a fleeting moment, Old Chang was blind, cut off from the world.

His eye—

It was gone.

It felt as though... it had been eaten.

Master, save me!

...

Du Fang turned to look at Luo Luo.

She was giggling uncontrollably, as if she had stumbled upon something terribly amusing.

“What’s so funny?” Du Fang wiped the sweat from his brow, his voice gentle, a smile on his lips.

“Daddy, the third dream fiend got scared and ran off—quick, praise Luo Luo.”

She tilted her head back, an expression of pride on her face.

Du Fang patted her head, his smile radiant.

“My Luo Luo is the best.”

Hearing her father’s praise, Luo Luo was so happy she nearly twirled in place.

“Should we catch that third dream fiend and finish it off?” Luo Luo asked, cocking her head. “But that one is a bit different.”

Du Fang paused. “How is it different?”

Luo Luo thought for a moment and pinched her pink pig plushie, Kiki, making Kiki’s eyes well with tears.

“The one the greedy pig just ate... was wild.”

“The one that ran off was domesticated.”

That was the difference—wild and domesticated.

Now that she explained, Du Fang understood.

“The one that escaped, leave it be. Captain Zhang will handle it,” Du Fang said.

In his faith in Captain Zhang, Du Fang was unwavering.

Afterward, excitement welled up in him; the tea leaf from Auntie on his tongue was steadily restoring his dream spirits.

There was still the female technician outside the door.

She, too, was a dream fiend!

According to what Luo Luo had told Du Fang,

The male manager fiend’s strength had far exceeded Du Fang’s expectations; he could barely withstand a single attack and ultimately needed help from his wife and Luo Luo.

But the female technician at door eighteen, as Luo Luo said, seemed to be just a stray low-tier dream fiend.

That gave Du Fang confidence.

Now,

It was time for Du Fang’s solo showdown with the female technician.

He walked to the door and opened it.

Leaning lazily against the wall outside, the Number 18 female technician had a women’s cigarette in her mouth. She glanced at Du Fang, eyes filled with grievance.

“Deadbeat, done already?” She parted her red lips, her tone tart.

Her eyes roved up and down his figure; she licked her lips.

“Such a handsome skin—it’s almost too tempting to bear.”

“But you were a bit quick this time, weren’t you? Only five minutes and you’re finished?”

She glanced at her watch.

Du Fang: “???”

Who’re you calling quick?

He felt as though she’d poked a sore spot.

His brow furrowed; he raised his hand, revealing Auntie’s playing card in his palm.

“Monster—you’re clearly not human!”

He intoned with a sense of ceremony.

In the next instant,

Auntie’s card exploded—countless cards flew from Du Fang’s hand.

The Number 18 female technician was startled. As the cards fluttered down, her eyes caught sight of the male manager’s corpse inside the room—skin flayed, blood pooling everywhere.

Her face drained of color.

For she could still sense the dissipating aura of a fellow dream fiend, moments before death.

“You... you’re not...”

The Number 18 technician was thunderstruck!

The male manager—was killed by Du Fang?

Du Fang hadn’t been possessed?

That was a high-tier fiend from a grade-seven eldritch nightmare disaster—completely out of her league as a mere grade-three stray.

Yet the manager had fallen to Du Fang!

She looked again at Du Fang; as the cards rained down, his features flickered in and out of sight.

But now, no trace of handsomeness could save Du Fang from appearing utterly terrifying.

Suddenly,

Du Fang lifted both hands.

A rush of heat surged from the tea leaf on his tongue.

He pressed his hands down, then flicked them forward,

As though plucking the strings of an invisible instrument.

Instantly,

The falling cards froze, suspended in midair.

With a flick,

Stillness turned to motion,

And the cards shot forth in a wild storm!

The technician’s hair flew, and she could only gasp, a strangled moan escaping her throat.

In a breath, her graceful form was flung back like a broken reed.

On her face, arms, and long white legs, her skin was slashed open,

Blood burst forth in streams,

Her clothes shredded,

Her body covered in wounds,

Blood splattering everywhere.

The Number 18 female technician was, by Du Fang...

Single-handedly,

Defeated!