When the Masked Man was dying, all he felt was a bitter sense of self-mockery; he had never imagined that one day, he would die at the hands of his boss’s deceased father.
He was even thinking, since the boss knew that after his father died, he could get what he wanted from inside, why not co and take it himself?
Did he really believe he could remain completely uninvolved?
But before he could make sense of these thoughts, the Masked Man fell silent forever.
His body gradually withered, finally collapsing into various sizes of gray fragnts that scattered onto the ground.
The Hopping Corpse picked up the box from the ground, its soulless eyes staring into the distance. He had to bring this thing to his son.
He lifted both arms and leaped over ten ters in a single bound. The dull thud from his landing was increasingly oppressive, and his aura grew ever stronger.
As he vaulted forward, all livestock and wild animals, snakes, insects, rats, and ants within several hundred ters who could sense the Hopping Corpse’s aura, were cowering and trembling in fear.
In the sky, a drone hovered, its cara recording the entire process just now.
Feng Yao’s face was cold as he looked over at Wen Yan and Zhang Laoxi, who had just regrouped.
"This advancent speed is honestly ridiculous. If those people from Fuyu Mountain saw this, they’d probably be so envious they’d turn purple," Zhang Laoxi let out a heavy sigh.
"Before daybreak, we have to deal with the Hopping Corpse no matter what. He’s advancing too fast, and he’s completely mindless—even if he ignores everyone else, he’s just too dangerous." Feng Yao picked up his phone and started calling in reinforcents. One way or another, he had to get so experts here before sunrise.
Wen Yan watched the surveillance feed, calculated the direction the Hopping Corpse was heading, then pulled out his phone to check the tracked position.
"Feng Yao, sothing’s off. The tracking shows Mo Zhicheng has gone north, left Virtue City’s area, but my client is heading southeast toward the city—back toward Virtue City’s urban district."
Feng Yao imdiately set his laptop on his lap and began typing frantically.
"Mo Zhicheng’s car and phone, all the tracking is on this vehicle. The high-res caras at the intersections he passed confirm it’s him."
"Do you trust what’s on your computer? Or do you trust that my client, once he gets what he wants, will single-mindedly deliver it to his son?"
"..." Feng Yao was at a loss for words.
"That guy my client just took out made a phone call. At this ti, in this remote area, we should be able to identify both his number and the recipient’s number, right? Can you get a location on them?"
Feng Yao stayed silent and got back to typing.
"At that exact ti, only one call went out from a phone near that base station. The recipient’s device is in the northwest outskirts of Virtue City, and it’s now heading... toward the urban district."
On the laptop screen, a blue dot was already about to cross from the outskirts into the urban area of Virtue City.
But in the next mont, that blue dot vanished as well.
"Mo Zhicheng is luring the Hopping Corpse into the city. There’s no way we’re just going to watch it waltz right in."
Zhang Laoxi spun the car around and sped toward the city.
Feng Yao quickly shared the new intel, ordering his people to block Mo Zhicheng outside the city at any cost.
Zhang Laoxi drove like a madman, as if he wanted to jam his foot through the engine. Wen Yan ignored the passing scenery, closed his eyes, and focused intensely, replaying everything in his head.
Sothing about today’s situation always felt off to him.
At first, he thought Mo Zhicheng was staking out the area near his own place just to confirm if sothing had happened at the funeral ho.
He’d quietly followed along, slipping easily past Feng Yao’s roadblocks to approach the funeral ho, ready to pick up whatever his father brought out.
Mo Zhicheng had basically predicted every move the director would make: once the director confird that everything was intact except one missing item, and the Walking Dead didn’t go berserk and attack, the director definitely wouldn’t dare risk any action inside the funeral ho.
And according to the news Feng Yao just got, this Mo Zhicheng has a special ability—he can easily talk his way past any guards, convincing them to let him go.
Even afterwards, those people, looking back, still felt like proceeding by the book and letting Mo Zhicheng go was the right thing to do.
If Mo Zhicheng had this kind of ability, then coming here to take the Wooden Armor Mask from his father and escaping the dragnet shouldn’t be difficult for him, right?
Even if he wanted to use a Hopping Corpse with a strong obsession to pin down the Scorching Sun Departnt and force them to subdue the Hopping Corpse.
But now that he’s exposed, why is he running back instead of fleeing?
If he kept going north, let the Hopping Corpse catch up to him, took the Wooden Armor Mask, and let the Hopping Corpse finish its obsession—given his ability and the way he’s always operated so openly, everything he’s done can pass the Scorching Sun Departnt’s scrutiny with no problem. If he escapes this ti, hiding should be easy.
But now, he’s running into Virtue City’s urban district. With his understanding of the Scorching Sun Departnt’s rules, he must know that they’d never allow such an abnormally fast-evolving, uncontrollable Hopping Corpse anywhere near the city center.
Before, this was just a case involving a Walking Dead of ordinary power and so lost item from the Old Ice Warehouse.
Now, the priority had gone up to "no matter what, stop the Hopping Corpse outside the city"—they’d resort to heavy firepower if necessary.
If the Scorching Sun Departnt subdues the Hopping Corpse, the Wooden Armor Mask will automatically be retrieved as well.
Given Mo Zhicheng’s understanding of the rules, there’s no way he could overlook that.
So what’s he after? Isn’t it all pointless? And now he’s outed himself, too.
Thinking it over, there’s only one possibility—he has no other choice. This is the only option that fits his interests.
With the ruthlessness and cold-blooded nature of soone like him, it must be that not doing this would have very serious consequences, major losses.
Wen Yan opened his eyes and looked at Feng Yao, who was still busy coordinating and making arrangents.
"Is it possible he has no choice?"
"Whatever he’s planning doesn’t affect what I’m doing. I have to stop the Hopping Corpse outside the city." Feng Yao spoke calmly but resolutely.
Wen Yan understood imdiately. Feng Yao’s mindset was a lot like the director’s—safety first. He always does things his own way, no matter what the other side is planning; he responds the sa, not necessarily aiming for a high ceiling, but always ensuring there’s a safety net.
He knew that even if the Hopping Corpse would ignore everyone and instantly lose all threat once the item is handed to Mo Zhicheng, Feng Yao still wouldn’t allow him to enter the city.
Wen Yan knew the risks were enormous, so he decided not to say anything more.
He glanced at what was showing in his mind.
"First Inherent Ability: I Am Your Dad, 2%.
Temporary Ability: Scorching Sun."
When his attention turned to "Scorching Sun," he could feel that this ability was actually pretty simple: just trigger the yang energy in sothing, or infuse sothing with yang energy.
He didn’t know how long this temporary ability would last, but at least for now, it was still active.
Also, the temporary ability didn’t have a percentage progress bar.
He’d been puzzling over it for a while, but still didn’t get why his Natural Enemy Professional Ability was this one.
He saw on the surveillance feed: the current Hopping Corpse could leap over ten ters, was monstrously resilient, killing humans like chickens.
With his skinny arms and legs, he’d be instantly killed if he tried to block the Hopping Corpse. There was no suspense there.
He’d never get close—so what’s the point of having "Scorching Sun"?
Before long, Old Xi—foot basically flooring the gas—sped all the way and stopped on the northern main road into the city.
The drone continued tailing the Hopping Corpse, which was still on the move.
"Where’s the expert you found? Don’t tell you expect you and —both glass cannons—to stand up to a Hopping Corpse that’s already killed soone and is growing stronger by the minute?" Wen Yan turned to Feng Yao.
Feng Yao’s face darkened.
"The expert I called for backup is on the way—should be almost here by now."
"Are they reliable this ti?"
Feng Yao was so mad his face turned black. He wanted to argue but couldn’t—last ti at the hospital, all he managed was so prep work, and pretty much coasted the rest of the ti.
Off to the side, Zhang Laoxi was already quietly putting on his Taoist Robe and unloading gear from the back of the pickup.
He wasn’t a proper Daoist Master—that kind of treatnt was reserved for the well-connected from the great mountains and prominent sects—but his lineage was the real deal. At their peak, they were only half a step behind Celestial Master Zhang in those days.
Of course, that’s what Zhang Laoxi’s elders said—he’d never heard of anyone outside their own records in the past few centuries who could even compare to a Heavenly Master. Forget that; these days, even finding a Daoist Master on par with the Purple Robed Boss was impossible. In a decent Taoist Temple, anyone who amounted to anything ended up practicing martial arts instead.
Last ti, with no prep at all, he nearly got killed by the Hopping Corpse in two moves. Flooring the gas this ti was just to buy a few more seconds.
He pulled out all sorts of equipnt, rapidly calculating positions and checking star charts, then began setting up the altar and formation in the middle of the road.
A Taoist who opens a Dharma Altar and one who doesn’t are two completely different existences.
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