"Nonsense, it’s definitely illegal."
Wu Chang asked, "Then why doesn’t anyone stop them?"
Zhao Yan glanced at him sideways, "Our Managent Bureau doesn’t deal with this. Besides, even if we shut down this place under that pretext, it won’t implicate Tang Renquan. He could just find another place out of our sight and secretly open another bar, and we’d have to go through the trouble of investigating again."
"If you have such a big opinion, just don’t watch."
Wu Chang snorted coldly and said righteously, "If I don’t watch, how will I critique this behavior in the future? Practice brings true knowledge; without experiencing it, you have no right to speak."
Zhao Yan: "You damn it, you actually make sense, then I’ll watch too."
Buzz~
As the performance on stage ended, the lights in the venue dimd, and a piercing buzzing sound reached Wu Chang’s ears.
The Mystical Ceremony arranged here had taken effect.
He looked around and noticed that everyone, including Zhao Yan, was uncontrollably fixated on the stage, without even thinking of blinking.
The buzzing continued for three or four seconds, and as the ringing in the ears faded, the lights in the venue turned back on, and several burly n dressed like psycho murderers from a slasher film appeared on stage.
The band’s lead singer, wearing a puppet mask identical to the Miracle Committee staff’s from Yifu City, donned a studded jacket, revealing a well-built chest and eight-pack abs, holding an electric guitar resembling a chainsaw.
"Aviator!"
"Aviator!"
"Aviator!"
The crowd in the dance floor shouted the band’s na loudly, and intense flas shot up around the stage to heighten the atmosphere.
Aviator? That na doesn’t quite fit; Wu Chang thought they’d be called Butcher or Felon.
He slapped Zhao Yan, who was shouting along, and asked, "Why are you shouting too?"
Zhao Yan looked at him, confused, "What did I shout?"
Wu Chang took out his phone, which showed a video of Zhao Yan shouting "Aviator" loudly.
Zhao Yan’s expression changed drastically, "There really is sothing wrong here, I’ll request backup right away!"
"Wait a minute." Wu Chang held Zhao Yan back, saying, "We’ve already co this far; let’s see what they’re up to before we call for reinforcent."
Zhao Yan felt that made sense and put away his phone, changed the topic, and asked, "By the way, since everyone was affected, why weren’t you?"
Wu Chang took a deep breath. Sword Star, Zhao Yan—these Managent Bureau guys are so slow to realize when dealing with the enemy, only focusing on their own people.
If all you can do is ask this, I might as well let you get sick with everyone else around here.
"Did you forget? I have Social Phobia."
Zhao Yan was surprised, "Social Phobia can resist group skills? I must learn that if I can. If I get influenced again, just wake up, if necessary, punch a couple of tis; make sure I sober up."
Wu Chang nodded and made a ntal note.
The show started quickly, accompanied by an intense and fierce electric guitar solo, and the lead singer roared with a tallic voice:
"Tonight, we will take you soaring, leaping over the Gate of Heaven!"
Since the Mystical Ceremony began, the crowd in the bar turned into parrots, only repeating the word "Aviator."
While Wu Chang was ntally complaining, Zhao Yan beside him started shouting again, and with a backhanded slap, Wu Chang woke him up.
"Huh?" Zhao Yan looked at Wu Chang, bewildered.
"You were affected again."
"Oh."
Wu Chang asked, "Is this force okay?"
"Yes, bewildernt without brain damage, just right." Zhao Yan rubbed his face, secretly noting Wu’s strong hand.
"The destiny flight is taking off!"
As the lead singer opened his mouth, Wu Chang was montarily stunned, feeling the entire underground space co alive.
Everything around him beca soft and twisted, as if he was inside so giant creature.
"Currently in a Mystical Contamination Zone, severity: heavy. Reality anchoring can begin."
Wu Chang looked at the popup in front of him, worried that starting the anchoring might affect the group’s plan, so he didn’t act hastily and chose to observe.
"Fly, fly, fly, soar over the apocalypse’s waves!"
While he was pondering, Zhao Yan’s shout almost burst his eardrums.
Goodness, he started singing along; this Mystical Ceremony here is really domineering, able to control everyone to act in unison.
In other words, if he didn’t follow along, he’d stand out like a sore thumb and would be imdiately identified as an anomaly.
Seizing the mont the lead singer’s gaze swept over, Wu Chang humd along with Zhao Yan. Once the singer’s gaze passed, he slapped Zhao Yan again, muttering softly:
"Officer, wake up."
Just as Zhao Yan was about to regain his senses, he suddenly stiffened and began to sing again.
With Wu Chang slapping left and right several more tis, Zhao Yan’s cheeks swelled, yet it failed to bring Zhao Yan to his senses.
It seed that physical thods were no longer effective.
He pondered for a mont, deciding to abandon Zhao Yan to be controlled; with Zhao shouting his throat out, it could even divert others’ attention, providing him cover.
He slipped into a corner, extending his Inspiration to the max, trying hard to perceive everything happening underground.
In a daze, he saw colorful patches beginning to appear in the air, twisting with the song, piecing together sothing in the air.
Seeing these patches, he felt his body yearning for them. They must be the contamination brought by Mysticism.
Not far from him was a dark black patch; he reached out and touched it, seeing it rge into his body, blending with his flesh in so manner.
Perhaps thinking of Mysticism made him think of Mortal Poison, and thinking of Mortal Poison made him think of eyes.
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