Compared to ordinary C-ranks, Su Mo’s advantage lay in his physical strength—and these white fighters seemed to have only raw power, no actual skills. A flicker of triumph sparked in his chest.
If that’s all they’ve got, why hesitate?
Time to crush them!
Rage Mantra—Activate!
Red-eyed Su Mo charged forward, his “Tetanus Blade” cutting through the two C-rank white fighters like a whirlwind. Overwhelmed, they tried to flee—only for his hands to clamp around their throats mid-retreat.
The scene was almost comical: the two men stood nearly 6’3″, while Su Mo, currently in a petite female form, had to jump to reach them.
But there was no time to linger. With others still fighting, he swiftly ended the two and dashed toward Young Marshal and Huo Jingshu’s position.
Bang—
The familiar gunshot snapped his attention. Spotting the sniper’s location from the corner of his eye, he yelled to the others, “Handle the rest here!”
Then he veered into a nearby spa—its patrons too terrified to protest—and bolted upstairs, mashing every elevator button along the way.
Ninth floor.
The white sniper stood waiting.
Their clash was instantaneous.
The sniper slashed wildly with a dagger. Su Mo leaped back three meters, then—just as the man lunged again—his blade appeared like a ghost, slipping soundlessly into the enemy’s gut.
Kill. Loot. Leave.
A routine so practiced it was muscle memory.
By the time he returned, the remaining four C-rank white fighters had fled—perhaps after catching sight of him.
“Done already?” Sun Yuchen gaped.
“Yeah.”
He was past surprise now, though a hint of awe lingered.
“I’ll get you out of Star City,” Winged Fire Serpent said urgently. “This place isn’t safe. For all we know, our own people might soon surround us.”
Sun Yuchen and the others froze, assuming betrayal—until the explanation left them reeling.
The entire Star City branch? A major division?
Not everyone, of course. But when leadership rotted, the rest would inevitably follow.
“What about you?” Su Mo countered.
“I’m staying.”
Su Mo met his gaze. “Good. So am I. The mission isn’t finished.”
“You mean the Hundred Immortals Sect’s leaders haven’t shown yet?”
“Exactly.”
Sun Yuchen frowned. “But you’re injured. Pushing forward could—”
“Scratches. Nothing fatal.” Su Mo shrugged. “Besides, I’m not the same trainee from the base anymore. I’m a true North Star warrior now. It’s my turn to protect others.”
Ye Qingyi didn’t speak. She simply stood beside him, her silent presence full support.
“I’d rather stay too,” Huo Jingshu said, a rare smile touching her lips.
In the end, no one left. They turned back toward the battlefield.
——
Su Mo couldn’t shake his worry for Ye Qingyi. She never complained, but he knew her injuries pained her.
“So, what’s the plan?” Young Marshal asked.
As the highest-ranked (after Yang Jie and Wang Ye) and strongest in the Special Ops Unit, he rarely sought others’ input. But:
-
This was Su Mo’s mission; the rest were support.
-
He sensed this “girl” carried weight beyond her surface role—perhaps even a hidden, formidable identity.
“Wait,” Su Mo said. “Wait for the big fish to bite.”
“I can’t stay,” Winged Fire Serpent interjected. “Other areas need me.”
Su Mo had expected this. “Then we part ways here. Until next time.”
After Winged Fire Serpent left, Su Mo outlined the plan: lure the enemy, assess their strength, strike if feasible.
He then split the group:
-
Sun Yuchen + Young Marshal
-
Huo Jingshu + Ye Qingyi
-
Himself (alone)
“I’ll be the bait,” he declared before objections arose. “I’m on both the Black Dragon Cult and Hundred Immortals Sect’s hit lists. They’ll hate me enough to take the hook.”
“But if they see you alone, they might suspect a trap,” Young Marshal argued. “Better add someone for backup.”
Su Mo shook his head, grinning. “This isn’t ‘Jiang Taigong fishing’—waiting for willing prey. Today, they’ll bite whether they want to or not.”
His certainty was absolute.
“I trust him,” Ye Qingyi said softly.
That settled it.
——
In a safe house, Daoist Wu, Daoist Zhang, and Daoist Li huddled in discussion when Enchantress’s voice crackled through their earpieces:
“Ye Qingyi is isolated. Move now.”
The three chorused, “Yes!”
Once the transmission ended, Daoist Li hesitated. “Could this be a trap?”
“And if it is?” Daoist Wu countered. “Should we not go?”
Daoist Li fell silent.
He was right. Even traps needed springing—only by filling the pits could the true players emerge.
“Don’t fret,” Daoist Wu added. “The Jiang City operation pleased Enchantress greatly. She promises rewards once this is done.”
Daoist Zhang and Li exchanged a glance, irritation flashing, but they nodded. “We seek no reward—only clarity. One thing puzzles us.”
(Wu, as Enchantress’s mouthpiece, wasn’t to be trifled with—a lesson Zhang and Li had learned painfully.)
Daoist Wu smiled benignly. “Ask.”
“What gain was there in abandoning Jiang City?”
Wu feigned deep thought before answering. “North Star and the Hundred Immortals Sect have moved from shadow war to open conflict. Once blood is spilled openly, reconciliation is impossible. Why cling to Jiang City’s scraps?”
Daoist Zhang’s face darkened. “You wouldn’t care. That was twenty years of our labor!”
Daoist Wu’s expression hardened. “No. It belonged to the Hundred Immortals Sect. Choose your words carefully.”
Biting back fury, the two seethed inwardly. Surprisingly, Wu didn’t gloat. Instead, he softened.
“But worry not. Where we’re headed next offers far greater freedom—where strength alone dictates standing.”
“You mean… the U.S.?”
“Where else? Rumor says several high-ranking Celestials have already relocated to New York.”
The news didn’t excite Zhang and Li as expected. Instead, a strange melancholy settled over them.
Would they ever return?
This was home.
They’d sensed this coming—just not so soon. No wonder Celestial Ya hadn’t appeared; perhaps her injuries weren’t the only reason.
“…Our apologies for earlier,” Daoist Zhang muttered.
Wu waved it off. “Think nothing of it. Oh, and these are yours.”
He tossed them two pouches—each holding 15 premium spirit stones. “Since they’re unneeded now.”
The bags held five more than they’d lent. Playing dumb, they asked, “Meaning?”
“Enchantress’s will. She never intended to keep them—only to test your loyalty. Since you proved sincere, why would she exploit you?”
“So the alliance with Qingyu Society to attack the Ye family… was always a ruse?”
“Precisely. A feint to mislead certain parties and keep Liao Yu from interfering.”
A chill ran down their spines.
This Enchantress…
Her schemes were anything but amateur. For someone barely in her twenties, her cunning defied expectation—every move calculated, nothing left to chance.