Chapter 79

80. Chapter 80: Assassination

Fan Feng’s entire body was taut, cold sweat already beading on his forehead.

Though he held a sniper rifle aimed at the cultivator named Wei Bin not far off, he now felt as if he were the one being watched—his stiff fingers dared not touch the cold trigger, afraid of accidentally firing an unwarranted shot.

Because a Spirit Perception cultivator could easily dodge bullets.

Thus, the sniper rifle in his hands had virtually no effect and carried zero deterrent power.

Wei Bin slowly lifted his head; his smile grew colder. He gazed at Fan Feng from afar, doing nothing, yet his killing intent radiated without the slightest concealment.

“Wei Bin, I’ll take out that sniper. You handle the rest.”

The man with a sinister gaze spoke now. He had no name, and no one knew his true identity, but among the vagrants of the ruined district, he was known by the nickname Scar.

Though his name was odd, his strength was anything but weak—he was a cultivator who had long opened his Spirit Sensing, and was somewhat famous among the vagrants.

As soon as he finished speaking, his feet moved, his body shifting position instantly into the sniper’s blind spot, then swiftly closing in on Fan Feng’s location.

Fan Feng was only at the Spirit Medium level; once a Spirit Sensing cultivator got close, even with a sniper rifle, he would almost certainly be dead.

“Stop! Do you want to oppose the Investigation Bureau?” Zheng Gong shouted suddenly, blocking the cultivator named Scar.

“Bang!”

But before he could finish, a vagrant beside him suddenly struck—kicking Zheng Gong with a single leg, sending him flying.

Caught off guard, his body flipped through the air, rolling several times before stopping, then intense pain surged through his arm.

One kick had shattered Zheng Gong’s arm and inflicted severe injuries.

“Can a mere investigator represent the Investigation Bureau? And do you think this is your jurisdiction’s old district?” The cultivator who struck him sneered, showing no respect for Zheng Gong as an investigator.

“Cough… cough.”

Zheng Gong spat blood, struggling to rise, but his injuries were too grave—he could only manage to roll onto his side and sit up.

“Still alive? Tough bastard.” The fierce cultivator strode forward again upon seeing Zheng Gong move.

Wei Bin watched from the side, a cold smile curling on his lips.

Killing an investigator?

No big deal.

“We must stop them—Zheng Gong’s in danger!” Nearby, in a building, Fan Feng’s expression tightened. Seeing this, he immediately aimed his rifle at the cultivator advancing toward Zheng Gong.

He wanted to shoot, but hesitated.

It wasn’t that he feared firing—it was that if he fired, Zheng Gong would die just as surely.

Even if he eliminated one of them, what of the others? He couldn’t stop them. Besides, Wei Bin was still watching him—would firing mean he had fully declared war on this group of vagrants?

He was only an external operations officer; he had no authority to make such a decision.

The more he thought, the more he struggled, unsure what to do, the sniper rifle in his hands feeling heavier by the second.

“Bang!”

But at that moment, a gunshot snapped his scattered thoughts back to reality.

Fan Feng jolted, quickly checking.

He realized the shot hadn’t come from him.

Yet the next instant—

The cultivator striding toward Zheng Gong suddenly sensed something, his expression changing instantly, instinctively dodging.

But it was too late.

A bullet, appearing from nowhere, struck his head with perfect accuracy.

The immense force shattered his skull like a watermelon, crimson blood and shattered bone fragments spraying everywhere, splattering onto every nearby vagrant.

The shot came too suddenly.

Even Wei Bin, who had opened his Spirit Perception, hadn’t reacted in time.

“Wu Li is dead.”

“Watch out—there’s another sniper nearby!” Someone snapped awake and shouted.

Others stared wide-eyed, disbelief etched on their faces as they watched the headless corpse slowly collapse.

A Spirit Sensing cultivator had just died.

This shot stunned the vagrants—even Scar, who had been preparing to kill Fan Feng, involuntarily halted, then swiftly rolled aside, putting distance between himself and the threat, hiding behind a building, terrified he’d become the next target.

“Wei Bin, what’s going on? You didn’t sense another sniper nearby?” Scar shouted.

Wei Bin didn’t answer Scar. His expression darkened, his facial muscles twitching as he traced the bullet’s trajectory, finally lifting his gaze to the ninth floor of the sealed building.

On the ninth-floor window, Li Yi stood holding a Superb-model sniper rifle, his killing intent rising, his gaze burning as he stared down at the group below.

And after killing one of them, Li Yi calmly cycled the bolt, chambered another round, and aimed his rifle at them again.

This time he didn’t fire—but issued a silent warning.

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“This guy’s position is even closer than the previous sniper’s. How is it possible that my Spirit Perception didn’t react? He seems to be blocking all my senses—I’ve never encountered this in all my cultivation. No, it’s not the sniper’s doing—it’s something strange in the building. The artifact’s energy field is blocking perception, which is why he succeeded in the ambush.”

Wei Bin stared fixedly at Li Yi. Had it not been for that gunshot, he still wouldn’t have noticed the man standing at the window.

But then, a cold sweat trickled down his back.

If that bullet had been aimed at him, could his Spirit Perception have dodged it?

Probably.

But Wei Bin had already felt the threat emanating from Li Yi.

“Did Li Yi fire?” Zheng Gong, wounded, exhaled in relief upon seeing this.

That shot eased the crisis, granting him temporary survival.

But that shot also escalated the conflict once more.

No.

Wrong.

It wasn’t that shot that escalated the conflict—it was the moment Zheng Gong was attacked that the conflict had already escalated.

“I don’t care who you are. I give you two choices: leave this place immediately, and the matter ends here—or fight us investigators. I’d like to see whether your bones are harder than my bullets.” Li Yi stood at the window, glaring at them, rifle raised in threat.

“A mere Spirit Medium cultivator, wielding a Superb-model sniper rifle, thinks he’s invincible? Arrogant.” Wei Bin roared, then moved instantly.

His speed was astonishing, his explosive power incredible.

He leapt onto the roof of a nearby vehicle, then leapt again to the third floor of the building, spun, and jumped once more—arriving instantly at the sixth-floor window. Such terrifying physical prowess meant Wei Bin could reach Li Yi in three or five seconds.

But at that moment, Li Yi fired without hesitation.

“Bang!”

A gunshot, a bullet flew.

“You only get one shot.”

Wei Bin sneered—he’d been wary of Li Yi all along, and instantly dodged, as if he’d predicted the bullet’s path.

But then Wei Bin’s face froze.

Because he realized this shot wasn’t aimed at him—it was aimed at someone else.

A Daomei Spirit Medium vagrant below, still unaware of what was happening, had his chest pierced by a bullet, then his entire upper body exploded from the force, blood and flesh spraying everywhere, gruesome beyond words.

His companions froze in shock.

Wasn’t that shot supposed to target Wei Bin? Why shoot us?

Is he insane?

“Bang!”

Immediately, another gunshot rang out.

Another Spirit Medium vagrant, caught off guard, had his head pierced and died on the spot.

“Take cover!” someone shouted.

But this shot wasn’t fired by Li Yi—it came from Fan Feng, who had been lying in wait in another building.

Fan Feng had finally reacted—he had to fire now to support Li Yi.

“Brat, you’re asking for death.”

Wei Bin exploded in rage, leaping upward like a ferocious beast, charging straight for Li Yi at the ninth-floor window.

Li Yi had already prepared—he gave Wei Bin a mocking glance, then swiftly retreated.

His goal was to lure this Spirit Perception expert into the building.

Once inside, the Bone Murals would affect him, pulling his consciousness into a hallucination.

And Li Yi’s task? To ensure the man’s brain was physically blown open.

As for shooting down a cultivator of this level with a gun—

Li Yi had no confidence. He’d heard his instructor say in training that some experts could easily dodge bullets; hitting them was hard, requiring coordination, distraction, and opportunity. Without backup, he didn’t want to waste a shot. Better to rely on the artifact—it was more reliable.