Chapter 519: Clash

Under the same moon.

At the top of the clock tower, another deadlier slaughter is also about to begin.

Sea wind pours in through the cracked outer wall of the clock tower, causing the battered bronze bell to sway gently.

The bell's body is covered with bullet scars and dried dark‑red stains.

There is no railing at the tower's summit.

A half step further outward is a hundred‑meter height, below which the city block has been half‑swallowed by Blood Mist.

In the distance, artillery fire rises and falls, and fire lines crisscross the building clusters.

The human coalition advances on the ground.

Gospel Church's red‑eyed followers counter‑attack in the alleys.

But here, it is oddly quiet.

It's not that there is no movement.

Rather, every sound is suppressed by the frivolous, mad aura surrounding some guy.

Sai Men stands at the very edge of the clock tower.

The dark red shirt is blown by the wind, clinging to his chest, while the hem of his retro black suit flutters behind him.

That gray stone Mask has no features, only two black, hollow eye sockets.

He faces away from the three, lightly tapping the ground with the Eyeball Staff in his hand.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Each strike lands in the patient gaps between people.

"Gentlemen."

Sai Men does not turn, his tone overly light.

"Why so serious? Tonight is a grand show, broadcast worldwide, main stage, packed audience; even I feel honored for you."

Jiang Yuan stands on the left.

The edge of the Black Combat Suit flutters in the wind, and the Card Bag at his waist is already half empty.

Shadow Poker Cards hang around him, faces outward, their edges frighteningly thin.

His twin pupils are jet‑black, without any speck.

After ascending to S Ji, Jiang Yuan's entire demeanor changed.

He once had the youthful naiveté of a young Captain, now only the steadiness forged on the battlefield remains.

He doesn't reply to Sai Men.

Talking nonsense with a madman just makes him work overtime.

Chen Shao stands on the right.

The black long robe is stained dark by Blood Mist, and his right eye has fully become a Quasi S-rank Demon Eye.

Deep within that eyeball, fine patterns rotate layer by layer.

Each rotation bulges a blue vein at his temple.

Further behind is the Top-level Cunning One sent by the North American Union, code‑named Kuang Lang.

This three‑meter‑plus hulking man was originally somewhat humanoid, but his body is already covered in gray‑black hair, his spine arches high, and his arms hang down to his knees.

He bares a mouth full of fangs, and the hot breath he exhales draws white lines in the Blood Mist.

Kuang Lang fixes his gaze on Sai Men's silhouette, a low growl rolling from his throat.

"Is this the masked Clown?"

Chen Shao says coldly, "Don't underestimate them."

Kuang Lang shakes his neck, the joints cracking loudly.

"Me, underestimate? I've torn three Quasi‑S‑rank Weirds."

"Those three together aren't a problem without his staff."

Jiang Yuan finally speaks, his words brief.

"Advance."

His words end.

His palms snap together.

Dark Shadow Court, open.

The moonlight atop the clock tower is devoured.

Shadows rise from all directions, not walls, yet more enclosing than walls.

Heaven, earth, wind, Blood Mist, the ruined bell.

All are compressed into a sealed black box.

External artillery fire is cut off.

Only the faint sound of card blades scraping the air remains, and Kuang Lang's uncontainable low growl.

Sai Men then slowly turns.

Below the Mask, a pale jawbone is exposed.

He seems to admire the new theater's set, and the Living Eyeball atop his staff spins once.

"Wow."

"Shadow Lord's court."

"This texture, this oppression, this blackness that has no aesthetic sense in its coloring."

Sai Men lifted his staff and lightly beat his palms twice.

"Nine points. Deduct one point, because there is no audience."

"Shut up!"

Kuang Lang could no longer hold back.

He bent his legs under pressure, and the stone slab of the bell tower beneath his feet cracked on the spot.

His whole body swelled to over three meters, his muscles tearing through the Tactical Vest, and Bone Spikes protruded from his shoulders and back.

In the next instant, he lunged outward.

No flashy moves.

No technique name.

Just the most primal speed, weight, and strength.

Where Kuang Lang charged, the air was struck into a visible white streak.

If it were ordinary A-level Weirdness, even reaction time would be insufficient, and one would be torn to pieces.

Jiang Yuan's formation also moved at that same moment.

Hundreds of Shadow Poker cards adhered to the floor, walls, and ceiling, cutting toward Sai Men from all kinds of cunning angles.

Chen Shao did not move.

He was waiting.

Waiting for Sai Men to reveal his true defensive logic.

Sai Men stood in place, his staff planted before him.

Kuang Lang had already arrived in front.

That claw, as large as a millstone, swept across, its tip only half an inch from the Mask.

Sai Men tilted his head.

"No talk of martial virtue, huh?"

He thrust the staff into the ground.

The Living Eyeball at the tip suddenly opened to its limit.

No red light.

No flashy effects.

Only the momentum on Kuang Lang that could flip an armored vehicle was abruptly drained.

Kuang Lang's claw stopped in front of Sai Men.

His muscles were still exerting force, his bones still grinding, yet the power vanished.

That feeling was too strange.

Like stuffing the power of a high-speed train into an invisible pocket.

Kuang Lang's pupils contracted.

"What the hell is this?"

Sai Men raised his hand, and the staff lightly tapped Kuang Lang's chest.

"A physics-type competitor, most afraid of encountering a value reclamation station."

The next moment.

The swallowed kinetic energy changed direction.

A large section of Kuang Lang's chest collapsed, his whole body was flung backward, crashing through the broken wall inside the Bell Tower, then rolling from the other side to crash back to the edge of the Dark Shadow Court.

His throat tasted sweet as blood mixed with shattered teeth sprayed onto the ground.

A North American Top-level Cunning One, his face was beaten like this.

Jiang Yuan lowered his brow.

The formation did not stop.

Shadow Poker cards strangled from all directions, dense as a contracted black net.

Sai Men braced his staff, pointed his toe, and slipped his whole body into the gap between the card blades.

It wasn't speed.

It was that each step landed on a place that shouldn't exist.

A card brushed the edge of the Mask.

He turned his head.

Two cards crossed, cutting toward the throat.

The staff swung horizontally, its metal shaft striking the card blade.

Sixteen cards behind sealed the retreat.

Sai Men bent over, spun, his shoe tip lightly touched a card surface, using it to spring upward.

"Beautiful."

He evaluated while dodging.

"Shadow Lord, you look much more handsome than on the battlefield earlier."

"This card's angle is great, almost shaved off my hair."

"Oh dear, this one won't do; the killing intent is too heavy, the technique got deformed."

Jiang Yuan showed not a hint of emotional fluctuation.

Ten fingers fired in rapid succession.

The card formation splits into halves, quarters, and eighths.

Each shadow poker card drags a jet‑black trail in the air, intersecting with one another to form a three‑layer killing formation.

The first layer is personal.

The second layer cuts off routes.

The third layer, stripping the rules.

This is the truly terrifying aspect of the Dark Shadow Court.

As long as the card formation locks him, Sai Men's abilities are gradually stripped away until the King's Court devours him into a shadow soldier.

But Sai Men, stubbornly, is not locked.

He dances as if standing on a knife's tip.

No, he even dances joyfully.

A pleasant low laugh comes from beneath the Gray Mask.

"Yes, yes, just like that."

"More ferocious."

"Humans only produce something worth seeing when forced into a corner."

Chen Shao's eyes grow colder.

"Do you treat war as a performance?"

Sai Men hovers in midair, his Eyeball Staff horizontally blocking three Poker Cards, his shoulders exaggeratedly shrugged.

"Isn't that so?"

"How spectacular."

"You all are desperately proving you're not chess pieces."

"But what the audience loves most is when the chess piece thinks it has broken out of the board."

Chen Shao's breathing falters for half a beat.

It's not uncontrolled anger.

It's the Demon Eye that's overloading.

The Quasi‑S Demon Eye activates at full power; each extra glance at Sai Men makes his blood vessels feel as if tiny swarms of insects are gnawing them.

The seven orifices begin seeping black blood.

The feral wolf crawls up from the ruins, wiping the froth from its mouth.

"Don't listen to his nonsense."

"This one's mouth is dirtier than its ability."

Jiang Yuan raises his hand, and the card formation abruptly collapses.

The Dark Shadow Court's canopy lowers by three feet.

Sai Men is finally forced to the edge of the bell tower.

Behind him lies a hundred‑meter drop.

Ahead are three layers of card blades.

The feral wolf on the left lowers its body, gathering momentum again.

On the right, Chen Shao's Demon Eye begins to emit dark red fissures.

Sai Men gently shakes his Eyeball Staff.

"Encirclement battle."

"Old‑fashioned, but effective."

Jiang Yuan coldly says, "Kill."

The feral wolf lunges a second time.

This time he's learned cleverness, no longer charging straight but keeping his limbs to the ground, darting around Sai Men at high speed.

Each footfall shatters large slabs of stone.

His silhouette leaves afterimages within the Dark Shadow Court, claw strikes probing from various angles, forcing Sai Men to use that eyeball.

Jiang Yuan's card formation cuts in through the opening.

Chen Shao continues to endure.

Sai Men's Eyeball Staff indeed moves.

It siphons away the momentum of the feral wolf's third lunge.

But this time, what Jiang Yuan was waiting for is exactly this.

"Collect."

Dozens of shadow poker cards whirl around the staff, their faces flipping, cutting straight toward the Living Eyeball.

The eyeball turns oddly, countless tiny mouths surfacing in its pupil.

Those mouths open simultaneously, devouring the nearby card blades.

Jiang Yuan hums lowly, blood gashes splitting a few lines across the back of his hand.

The backlash returns.

Sai Men smiles even more joyfully.

"Shadow Lord, a surprise attack is impolite."

"But I like it."

The feral wolf seizes this half‑beat gap, pounces behind Sai Men, arms encircling, trying to crush him entirely.

Sai Men doesn't even turn his head.

The staff points backward.

The wolf's old chest wound bursts open, and its whole body is jolted back several steps.

But this time it didn't fly away.

The North American mad dog grits its teeth, and its two feet carve two deep grooves into the ground.

"Is that all?"

The wolf's mouth is full of blood, and it laughs ferociously.

"I still thought you could kill me in an instant!"

Sai Men lets out a light gasp.

"Resistance increased?"

"Cut the nonsense!"

The wolf lunges a third time.

Jiang Yuan raises his hand.

The card formation follows.

Sai Men is finally forced to step back half a pace.

Just half a step.

But Chen Shao arrives.

He stands at the edge of the battle circle, black blood already dripping from his chin onto his collar.

In that Demon Eye, the pupil cracks into three rings.

Each ring rotates in reverse.

A faint snapping sound echoes through the space.

Chen Shao lifts his hand, his five fingers aimed at Sai Men.

"Don't be so arrogant!"

The Demon Eye activates at full power.

Invisible mental force converges from all directions.

It's not a push.

It's not a pull.

It's a lock.

Sai Men is leaping, his toe just three inches off the ground.

The next moment, his body halts midair.

The hem of his suit is still being lifted by the wind.

The staff also stops less than an inch above the ground.

The Gray Mask faces Chen Shao.

In those two black, hollow eye sockets, for the first time, no smile emerges.

Chen Shao's eyes, nasal cavity, and sides of his ears all bleed.

The blood darkens, dripping in a line along his jaw.

His arm trembles violently, yet he does not let go.

"Jiang Yuan!"

Jiang Yuan has already moved.

The Dark Shadow Court contracts to its limit.

All card blades converge.

Countless Shadow Poker cards stack in front of his palm, forming a Black Card.

The card face has no pattern.

Only a throne imprint so deep it makes one dizzy.

Jiang Yuan steps forward.

The figure vanishes on the spot.

When it appears again, it is already in front of Sai Men.

The Black Card transforms into a blade, pressing close to Sai Men's throat.

The wolf lunges from the side‑rear, its claws pressing Sai Men's shoulder; even if it will be reflected back and fracture a bone the next second, it refuses to release.

The three combine for a kill.

Half a second.

The half‑second Chen Shao bought with his life.

Sai Men is locked by mental force.

Jiang Yuan's strongest Shadow Killing Move is already pressed against that pale throat.