Chapter 570: Hall

Author: Sanjiu YinyuWord Count: 1346

Meanwhile.Inside the manor.

The sudden explosion plunged all the guests into terror. On one side were the blazing ruins; on the other, a chaotic battlefield tearing through the clouds, like a battle among deities. They scrambled to escape through the manor gates, the scene utterly chaotic.

In a corner of the main hall corridor, Li Qingshan watched the private residence, now completely engulfed in flames in the distance, his mouth agape.

At that moment, he finally understood why Chen Ling had said destroying the contract for him would be a trivial matter.

In this inferno, neither the contract, nor valuables, nor anything else could possibly survive. Even Mu Chunsheng himself might have been instantly killed in the blast.

"Miss, let's go!" Uncle Quan anxiously pulled at Huang Suyue's sleeve amidst the chaotic crowd.

Huang Suyue pointed at the red-clad figure on the stage, about to say something, when Uncle Quan immediately added, "Given the Special Emissary's power, could he possibly be in danger? On the contrary, our presence here would only hold him back. Miss, please, let's go!"

Only upon hearing the latter part of the sentence did Huang Suyue snap back to reality. After a final, deep glance at Chen Ling, she hurried away, following Uncle Quan.

"Sir!! Aren't you going to run??" Beside the stage, Kong Baosheng's face was filled with anxiety.

"You go first; I'll be there shortly."

"Sir, this is foolish! Terrorists have planted bombs in the manor. What if there are other bombs besides the one that already exploded? Your life is paramount!"

Chen Ling smiled slightly and patted Kong Baosheng's shoulder. "Don't worry, there's only one bomb... You go first; I still have one last crucial step to finish."

"What step??"

Chen Ling did not reply, only shaking his head in silence. Seeing this, Kong Baosheng had no other option. Gritting his teeth, he said, "Alright then, I'll go back and prepare dinner... Sir! You must come back safe and sound!"

After speaking, Kong Baosheng also quickly ran off into the distance.

Chen Ling slowly straightened up, his gaze lingering on the rising plumes of thick smoke. His fingertips lightly fumbled for something in his sleeve. A moment later, a thin facial skin, which he had kept for a long time, appeared in his palm.

"Since we're putting on a show... we might as well go all out, right?" Chen Ling said with a smile.

Grand World Dance Hall.

A roaring explosion sounded in the distance, causing the ground throughout the street to tremble imperceptibly. Many guests, immersed in the song and dance, looked confusedly towards the door, unsure of what had happened.

The numerous plainclothes police officers mixed within the crowd exchanged glances and nodded slightly.

They immediately shed their jackets, stepped onto the dining tables, and, holding up their badges, loudly declared:

"Police Department on official duty! All irrelevant personnel, leave immediately!!""This is suspected to be a gathering place for Twilight Society members! Those who want to live, run fast!!"

The dance hall guests were instantly dumbfounded. Nearly half of the people swaying in the dance floor at that moment were plainclothes officers. Even some waiters and chefs began shedding their uniforms while pulling out guns, forcing everyone to leave immediately.

They never imagined that the "brothers" they had just been drinking and even embracing with had, in the blink of an eye, transformed into police officers pointing guns at their heads. The entire scene instantly devolved into chaos, as people frantically surged outwards amidst shouts of alarm.

Meanwhile, a figure carrying a giant calligraphy brush on his back slowly walked into the dance hall, moving against the flow of the crowd.

It was a tall man in white, estimated to be around 1.9 meters in height. On his back, he carried a massive, sturdy calligraphy brush, 2.5 meters long, diagonally slung. From a distance, he resembled a general carrying a 'Fangtian Huaji' (a type of halberd) through a chaotic battlefield.

Upon seeing this man, all the police officers present respectfully lowered their heads; not a single person dared to meet his gaze.

"What's the situation?" the man asked calmly, stopping beside the leading officer.

"Sir, we've already covertly searched the premises, but found nothing critical. As per the director's instructions, we dared not enter VIP room 001 without your presence to take charge."

The man nodded slightly. "The battle has already begun at Beidou Manor. Normally, the Twilight Society would have sent out all its members this time, but we can't rule out the possibility of other members hiding here... Since we've decided to eradicate these Twilight Society members, we must uproot them completely, ensuring no one escapes."

"But Sir, if there are indeed remaining Twilight Society members in the VIP room, wouldn't such a large-scale evacuation of the public alert them?"

"No matter," the man said, his gaze drifting towards the second floor. "I have already drawn a 'circle' around this dance hall. Even if they realize what's happening, they won't be able to escape."

"Sir, you are wise."

The man, with the calligraphy brush on his back, walked directly up the stairs and straight towards VIP room 001 at the end of the corridor, with numerous police officers following closely behind.

The last few police officers, trailing behind, looked at the giant calligraphy brush on the man's back, their eyes filled with awe and dread.

"Could this be...""I can't believe even he has been dispatched. It seems the Floating Life Painting is extremely wary of the Twilight Society.""What do you mean? Who is he?""Don't you know? The ordinary members of the Floating Life Painting are numbered and called Architects. But above the ordinary members, there seem to be nine individuals, each wielding immense power. They are known as the Halls. Legend has it that among these nine Halls, there is a Third Seat, who always wears white, carries an eight-foot ink brush on his back, and can define boundaries with a mere gesture... The miracle 'Circle' is his creation.""So that means he's the third strongest in our Mortal Realm?""Exactly... And I suspect that for this encirclement and suppression of the Twilight Society, most of the nine Halls have been mobilized. The main venue is probably even more chaotic."

Amidst the whispers of the crowd, the man stopped at the entrance of VIP room 001, drew the eight-foot ink brush from his back with one hand, and casually swung it forward!

Buzz—!!

A sharp roar exploded in the air. An ink stroke flashed through the void, and the VIP room door in front of them instantly melted, revealing a dark, lightless room to everyone.

The man, holding the ink brush, slowly walked into the VIP room. Upon smelling the air inside, his brows involuntarily furrowed; he seemed quite disgusted.

"No one here..."

His gaze swept around, quickly locking onto the mysterious formation in the center of the floor. He bent down and rubbed it hard, but could not remove a single trace of the mysterious paint outlining the patterns.

"This is indeed their stronghold," the man said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But... what exactly is this thing for?"

Seeing that no one was there, the police officers behind him finally breathed a sigh of relief. They entered the VIP room and searched meticulously, but found nothing of greater value apart from some unknown animal skeletons and strange ritualistic tools.

"Sir, there's a deck of playing cards here?" a police officer said, picking up a deck from a corner by the door, as if it had been carelessly discarded there.

"Playing cards?"

The man raised an eyebrow slightly. He took the deck into his hand, poured out all the cards, and meticulously sifted through them for a moment.

"Three cards are missing..."

"Which three?"

"The Six of Hearts, the Six of Spades, and the Nine of Hearts..." The man put away the deck. "It seems the identities of those individuals at the venue can now be confirmed."