Chapter 117: Twin Soul Siphoning: Bloodstained Ice Rink

That night, the night before the ice skating competition.

Louis and Emma walked ahead, while Maria and Madison followed behind.

Madison glanced at her sister, sighing inwardly—she couldn’t fathom what charm Louis had to draw Maria in so completely; was it some strange ability? Or something else?

Madison couldn’t understand it; from start to finish, she had only found Louis terrifying.

Soon, the group split at a certain point, each heading home—some took the school bus, some walked, others took a taxi.

But Louis stopped and turned around.

“What’s wrong?” Emma asked.

“Someone’s following, but not us—Maria.”

Emma frowned slightly. “The last group already transferred schools; it shouldn’t be them.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll go check. You take the bus home first.”

“Don’t you want me to come with you?” Emma frowned, annoyed—whenever something interesting happens, he never takes me.

“No.”

“Fine.”

Louis turned and walked back.

At the corner, Maria halted, staring at the three towering black-and-white men. Her face twisted in panic. “Who are you? What do you want?”

Instantly, her long hair fell over her face; a flash of black passed through her eyes. When she lifted her head again, a faint smile curled at her lips.

The three men froze, stunned—originally, they’d just been ordered to break her legs, but now she looked so beautiful…

They exchanged glances and instantly changed their minds.

Without saying a word, they smirked, surrounding Maria from front and back, trying to herd her into the alley. Maria appeared terrified, stumbling backward in confusion, unknowingly retreating deeper inside.

But shouldn’t a panicked person scream loudly?

The three men, flushed with bloodlust, clearly didn’t consider this—they only found her pitiful appearance more arousing, more violent.

The Black man couldn’t resist whistling, his fingers fidgeting.

But the moment Maria was pushed into the alley’s shadow, the three suddenly felt a chill—yet they ignored it, already unfastening their belts.

They’d done this before, but never with someone this high-quality. This had to be savored, slowly.

They exchanged glances, each wanting to go first, fingers moving faster to undo their belts.

Then, a shadow lunged out—using the darkness and blind spots—a small knife slashed instantly across one brute’s throat.

Pfft!

Blood sprayed from the wound. The White man instinctively touched his neck, stared at the blood on his hand, eyes wide with terror—but no matter how wide he opened his mouth, only a wet, air-filled gurgle escaped.

Before the White man collapsed, the knife plunged into the Black man’s eye—fast, brutal, without hesitation.

Pop!

Splat!

“Aaaah!”

The third man finally reacted, swinging his fist—but the moment it connected, his face twisted in shock—so much power!

Instantly, the dagger pierced his palm, slicing off two fingers. Then, Maria, smaller in stature, sidestepped into his “embrace,” drove her knee upward into his groin, all while her hands kept moving.

Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!

Stab. Twist. Pull.

Again. And again.

The entire sequence flowed like water—no hesitation, flawless execution of the assassin’s art: steady, precise, ruthless.

When the man fell, Maria’s gaze turned chillingly calm. She bent low and slit his throat.

Finally, she turned to the Black man, clutching his eye, staggering to his feet, trying to flee.

“No, no, no!”

Maria’s eyes flickered with contempt. She kicked his knee with increasing force.

Crack!

The Black man screamed, clutching his kneecap. Maria crouched, dragging the dagger across his face—the icy touch made him weep and snivel.

“Sorry, sorry… please spare me…”

“Who sent you?”

Maria spoke for the first time—her voice no longer sounded like her own: icy, bone-chilling, faintly laced with cruelty and madness.

“I-it was Sean’s girlfriend. We were all hired by her. She said just break your legs so you can’t compete. Sorry, sorry, I didn’t know—”

Pfft!

The dagger plunged into his mouth, slicing cleanly—a tongue fell out. “You won’t need to know anymore.”

Then she stabbed him through the chest.

Only after he stopped breathing did Maria slowly rise, inhale deeply, her eyes glowing with a strange sense of satisfaction.

In a perspective invisible to the naked eye, Maria—having switched personalities—inhaled deeply, drawing in fragments of three souls. The three souls grew translucent; within her, black threads multiplied rapidly.

“Lily, I gave you a chance.” Maria whispered.

The original personality buried deep within her soul said nothing. Though she disapproved of murder, she despised Lily beyond words.

She wiped the blood off, sheathed the dagger, glanced at herself, brushed off a few blood droplets, then walked out of the alley as if nothing had happened.

Straight to school.

Behind her, Louis appeared, silent.

America truly teems with talent. The moment he saw Maria absorbing souls, he confirmed his earlier suspicion—her soul indeed possessed a unique talent. But he hadn’t expected it to resemble his newly acquired Ghost-Eating Technique.

What is this?

A prodigy?

Why didn’t I get one?

Whatever. She’s my follower anyway. In essence, her talent is mine too.

Shaking his head, Louis followed. He wanted to see what Maria would do next—and also, her talent might be deteriorating under prolonged psychological stress.

The more souls she consumes, the stronger the personality named Elan becomes—until it eventually overpowers and replaces her. And Elan isn’t mild-mannered at all—she’s completely unhinged, just hiding well for now.

The more black threads inside her, the stronger her demonic transformation grows. Eventually, she might become a reckless madwoman.

Compared to that, Maria—admiring him, wanting to be his follower—is far preferable.

Louis followed silently.

…

Inside the school, the gymnasium, the ice rink.

Lily was practicing alone, circling the rink again and again, adjusting her posture.

She was cruel, jealous, and loved tormenting outsiders—but she truly loved figure skating, and poured immense effort into it.

She practiced here almost every night.

“Why should I lose to that insignificant nobody?”

“I must win! I will win!”

“If I win, everything will be mine again—Sean, attention, honor… all mine! Mine!”

Lily gritted her teeth, raised her arms into a sharp cone, rose onto her toe picks, and spun like a top across the ice.

It was a common but difficult figure skating move, demanding exceptional grace.

At that moment,

a hockey puck shot sharply from the corner, striking Lily’s toe pick—she instantly lost control, tumbling and sliding across the ice.

“Aaaah!”

When the slide stopped, Lily opened her tightly shut eyes—and saw a pair of ice skates.

Looked up… it was Maria!

Impossible! How is Maria here? Didn’t I hire people to break her legs?

Maria’s expression now held none of her former timidity—only chilling coldness. She pulled out a dagger, held it up to Lily, seemed unsatisfied, and shook her head.

She glanced at the hockey stick in her other hand, nodded.

Then she moved behind Lily. Lily finally reacted. “What are you doing?!”

But—

the hockey stick swung down hard.

Thud!

“Aaaah!!”

Screams erupted.

Soon, screams mixed with pleas echoed through the rink—but no one was here. Oh, wait—one person was… but had no intention of saving her.

They were all bullies who’d wanted to break others’ legs—or worse, rape them. Let her die.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Each thump brought a scream—and beneath it, a growing, delighted laugh.

The three sounds blended into something almost demonic.

When the final blow landed, the girl on the ground was dead. Maria’s face wore a wide, radiant smile—tears streamed from her eyes.

“Hahahahaha…”

Maria’s laughter was utterly free—so satisfying!

Bullying? Cold violence? Sending someone to break my legs?

You die first!

Then she dragged the still-bleeding corpse across the ice, sliding for several minutes before finally stopping.

She released her grip, smiling, and turned to leave.

But at that moment.

She saw Louis standing at the exit, as if he had been there for some time.

Their eyes met.

For a moment, the atmosphere froze.

But immediately, Maria put on a submissive expression and glided over on her ice skates.

“Louis, I just—”

Swish!

The dagger shot out violently.

Maria’s eyes were filled with cruelty; even as another soul struggled desperately to resist, she failed to stop Elan’s movement.

But a mere mortal, relying on talent and a few killing techniques, dares to try killing a sorcerer who has already entered the path?

How presumptuous.

Clang!!

Metal clashed.

Louis spat out a steel needle, striking the dagger from her hand with a single blow.

Then, faster than she could react, he punched her abdomen—puff!

Acidic stomach fluid gushed out.

Elan tried to fight back.

But before the sequence even ended, Louis grabbed her hair and slammed her head into the ice—bang! bang! bang!

He only stopped when blood began to seep out.

Elan’s expression finally changed—but became even more sinister, almost manic. She snatched up a hockey stick and swung it down.

Louis blew gently into his palm.

Huh~

A streak of Jin Guang flashed.

Looking at Elan writhing on the ground, screaming uncontrollably, her inner black qi greatly diminished, Louis smirked.

“You had your chance—and you threw it away.”

(End of Chapter)