Chapter 70: Anomalous Change

June, the night curtain slowly descended.

Dapingshi.

At the gate of Yangshi Wuguan, the twenty-year-old Hall Master leaned against the wall, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his handsome face showing a hint of fatigue.

Especially his eyes, which revealed weariness amidst their weathered look.

The phone rang.

He pulled it out and saw that the remark said "Wang Xiaoniu".

He hesitated slightly, then took a deep drag; the cigarette flared brightly, as if about to ignite. Reluctantly, he pulled the small remainder from his lips, pressed it hard against the wall, and flicked it accurately into the nearby trash can.

After exhaling a large smoke ring, he then answered the call.

"Yang Fan!"

"Captain Wang, what's up?"

"Anything unusual on your end?"

"Nothing! Another weird incident? Is it a mutation or something eerie?"

"Both!"

"Both?!"

"Hmm, there have been several bizarre deaths recently! Over three consecutive nights, people have been eaten, leaving only bone fragments. Based on trace analysis, it's suspected to be a canine mutation—cunning and good at hiding. Judging from the timing of the crimes, it's heading toward your area. If you spot any abnormal dogs lately, call me right away."

"Sure! What else?"

"Lately at midnight, two people got up to use the toilet; their families heard the toilet flush, but the persons vanished. Another two were sleeping alone; when called in the morning, they were gone. Also, a lone dweller disappeared for no reason. No strange sounds, no oddities—checking surveillance showed no one leaving the compound, suggesting a vengeful spirit, also nearby your area; please be careful lately."

"Why does everything feel more chaotic? Captain Wang, it's about time to clock off—how about I treat you to a meal?"

"No time!"

The call ended.

"That little girl!" Yang Fan chuckled, also pinching his brow.

He lifted his head; the bright moon had risen, yet it seemed tinged with a layer of red clouds, appearing eerie and alluring.

He lowered his head, reopened his phone, and began sending messages to two people.

"It's very late!"

"Xiao Jian, have you eaten dinner?"

"Look after your little sister, let her eat more—you look too thin."

……

"Xiao Chanchan!"

"Studying is exhausting; you definitely need to eat well."

Seeing their replies, Yang Fan finally put away his phone, turned, and gazed blankly at the plaque above the gate.

The Yang Family makes its living through martial arts.

Grandfather established the martial arts hall and became its Hall Master.

Later, his father became the Hall Master.

After his parents passed away unexpectedly, Yang Fan took over the family martial arts hall to care for his younger siblings. Thanks to the reputation of Yangshi Wuguan and his own skills, the hall still enjoys some renown.

In the blink of an eye, several years have passed.

He rubbed his brow.

Yang Fan walked back into the martial arts hall and shouted toward the kitchen: "Xiao Meng, are you done yet?"

"Hall Master!" A seventeen- or eighteen-year-old girl came out of the kitchen, clutching her stomach with a pained expression, pleading, "I've finished washing and cleaned up, but— but…"

Her face was slightly flushed.

"Feeling unwell?" Yang Fan frowned. "Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"No, no, I'll be fine soon!"

"Then rest a bit."

"Hall Master, I need a while to feel better—could you take me home?"

"Take you home?" Yang Fan frowned again, saw her hopeful look, nodded, and said, "All right! Ride your electric scooter; tomorrow it'll also be convenient for you to go to work."

"Hall Master, better use yours—otherwise you'd have to walk back!"

"Listen to me!"

"Okay, all right!"

Her name is Jiang Xiaomeng—true to her name, she's a bit ditzy. Due to her family's difficult situation, she started working at eighteen, hired by him for daily cleaning and cooking two meals, also practicing martial arts to strengthen her body. She mounted her electric scooter, glanced at the dim park nearby, but headed the other way: "The park is closer, but we can't ride through it."

"It's about halfway!" Jiang Xiaomeng whispered, "At night the park is almost empty—I don't dare go that way."

"Not going is wise—don't go out after dark from now on!"

"All right!"

There were plenty of pedestrians on the road, most hurrying along.

Nightlife was scarce.

"How's your mother doing?" Yang Fan asked.

"I can take care of myself!" Jiang Xiaomeng's voice dropped even lower.

Yang Fan didn't press further.

Everyone has their own life.

Everyone also has their own difficulties.

Soon they arrived outside an old residential compound, its walls mottled and dilapidated, the streetlights dim.

After the vehicle stopped, Yang Fan glanced inside, feeling uneasy, and slightly furrowed his brow.

"Hall Master, this place will do!" Jiang Xiaomeng got out of the car, head lowered, "I won't invite you inside."

Yang Fan nodded: "If you're feeling unwell tomorrow, just give me a call; don't worry, I won't deduct your wages."

He waved his hand, glanced over, then walked toward the other side.

He is very familiar with this place.

Soon they arrived at the east gate of Bishui Gongyuan; Yang Fan walked straight in.

Remembering his childhood, every night the park lights were numerous and bright, there were many people, even a fountain, but now hardly anyone can be seen.

The lighting is also sparse.

However, the weeds are trimmed well.

The farther he walked in, the fewer people he saw; only the insects' faint chirping, which grew louder, gave a different kind of beauty in the darkness.

Yang Fan also liked such an environment.

His spirits had improved considerably.

His shadow seemed to be dancing.

Passing through the bamboo grove, crossing the flower path, stepping over the stone bridge, ahead lay a rockery dotted with flowers and grasses, but Yang Fan's steps halted.

His nose twitched, his eyes narrowed slightly.

He pulled a pair of brass knuckles from his pocket, slipped them on his fingers, fastened them to his palm, and continued forward—but suddenly, two vicious dogs sprang from the nearby bushes, one lunging from the left, the other from the right.

Yang Fan stepped back and struck swiftly; his left fist hit the dog's head, the hard brass knuckles tearing its face and blasting it away, while he kicked the other vicious dog away with a foot.

Immediately after, five or six more appeared, growling as they lunged forward.

"Clear division of labor, organized, premeditated—not the same breed; there must be a controller behind them!" Yang Fan's pupils contracted, and he reached a conclusion.

He suddenly recalled Captain Wang's phone call.

Canine mutants? No time to think; Yang Fan dodged while counterattacking.

In the midst of dodging and maneuvering, clean and decisive—each strike knocked a vicious dog to the ground, unable to rise, and within moments they were all down.

Yang Fan showed no slack; instead he tensed his body, swiftly scanning the surroundings, finding no other vicious dogs, but spotted a speckled puppy in the nearby bushes.

It seemed just weaned.

Fluffy and utterly adorable.

It made one want to pick it up and rub it.

Yet Yang Fan lunged forward, the brass knuckles flashing a cold, eerie light as they shot toward the puppy; it dodged suddenly, its body began to swell rapidly, and in an instant it reached over two meters tall.

Its body massive, its aura ferocious.

It split its maw wide, revealing dagger-like fangs, dripping with slime; its merciless eyes glowed with icy light as it swung a paw at him.

A vicious wind howled, causing Yang Fan's expression to change; he leapt back to dodge the blow, but the dog's paw struck the ground, leaving a pit, and immediately lunged forward again.

It was extremely fast.

Lunging, probing claws, tearing bites.

A barrage of attacks left Yang Fan dodging in a sorry state.

Unable to dodge in time, he could only raise his fist to block, but a paw swatted him five or six meters away, rolling him across the ground several times.

Just as he rose, the vicious dog was already upon him, its jaws split open, exhaling a foul stench as it lunged to bite his head.

This time Yang Fan did not dodge; he merely stared coldly.

He also bared his mouth.

The corners of his mouth stretched back to behind his ears.

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(End of chapter)