The Forsaken's Revenge

In Yanjing, a bustling metropolis, Fu Yu stood on the rooftop of a skyscraper, his face twisted into a ferocious expression.

"Help! We need help! There's a sharp Golden Monster over in Yanjing, accompanied by three Red Sharp Ghosts! We need more assistance!" Fu Yu's face turned incredibly pale as he shouted into his communicator. He cursed under his breath, "Damn it all! Three Red Sharp Ghosts and one Golden one... I'm going to die!"

Despite his words, he still beckoned for his team to follow him.

"Boss, we have a problem! That Golden Monster seems to have flown over from Yanjing University's direction."

"Shit!" Fu Yu swore. "Have you made contact with Old Long?"

"Yes, Old Long is rushing toward that location. Other high-level experts are also en route, but the situation might spiral out of control!"

At that very moment, Professor X appeared on a rooftop at Yanjing University. At some point, he had raised his hand, and a cane flew toward him from somewhere within the building, landing perfectly in his grasp.

BOOM!

BOOM!

On the ground below, a low-rise building collapsed with a deafening crash, and a gigantic blue specter crawled out from the rubble. Just then, a streak of golden light shot across the sky.

A creature, golden all over and sharp-bodied like a falling leaf, slowly descended from the air. It landed on the top of the building, looked up, and saw Professor X standing before it.

Professor X smiled faintly at the creature. "This is my classroom. You may leave now."

The Golden Sharp Ghost howled, babbling something unintelligible.

"This is our only choice!"

Professor X moved slowly, but after just two or three steps, his figure seemed to vanish. The next moment, he reappeared beside the monster, his staff slowly retracting to his side. A faint smile touched his lips. "Why did you have to provoke me?"

CLANG!

With the sharp sound of clashing metal, Professor X turned and walked toward the stairwell. Behind him, the sharp Golden Monster shattered into countless pieces. There was none of the shocking power from when Chen Zheng had slain a Golden Monster, nor the terrifying presence of Zhuo Ming's swordplay. The scene was unnervingly quiet, like a discarded, broken toy.

Just after Professor X left, Long Ying and his group leaped onto the rooftop. When he saw the golden creature blown to bits, he was completely stunned.

"Who did this?" a bald elder beside him exclaimed in shock. "Besides Zhuo Ming, he's the only one who could kill that golden monkey so silently."

"So he really isn't dead? That man is a lunatic!" the elder muttered anxiously, his thoughts turning to Professor X.

Long Ying sighed. "This is for the best. Now that he's dealt with it, all that's left are those three red spirits."

「At the same time, at Yanjing's International Airport」

A large crowd of Yanjing's wealthiest citizens had gathered. The same tycoons and magnates usually seen only on the news were all arriving one after another, preparing to get their sons and daughters to safety.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Suddenly, a series of massive explosions rocked the entire airport, plunging it into chaos. Several passenger jets were destroyed, their interiors erupting with the agonizing screams of the crew. Some were killed instantly.

"We're in trouble!" Huang Zongshi had been about to warn Huang Xiaojia and the others, but the sound of the explosions drained the color from his aged face. "Go, go! Everyone get in the car! Let's move!"

Despite his age, Huang Zongshi remained remarkably calm, his voice booming with authority.

Huang Jiajia looked around, completely bewildered, with no idea what was happening.

CRACK!

Just then, he felt a tremor from above. The elevated roadway overhead collapsed, and a large chunk of concrete plummeted down, landing right beside their vehicle. Huang Jiajia froze, looking up to see a gaping hole in the road. A sharp, pointed head was poking out from it.

"Grandpa, what is happening?" Huang Jiajia asked in disbelief.

Huang Zongshi stared at the creature, and the hair on his body stood on end.

HEE-HEE!

A sinister smile spread across the pointed face. Then, the Sharp Ghost leaped down from above, charging straight for Huang Jiajia.

"Ah!"

"Get away from him!"

At that critical moment, a blast of True Qi shot out from beside them. Lin Ping lunged forward, his body erupting with powerful True Qi as he threw himself at the blue-haired fiend.

BUZZ!

BUZZ!

Wave after wave of True Qi exploded across the scene. The major families all had bodyguards, many of whom were top-tier experts.

As they scrambled for their vehicles, they shouted, "Let's get the cars out of here and hide somewhere remote! These ghosts are drawn to crowded areas! Hurry up and run!"

Gritting his teeth, Huang Zongshi pushed open the car door and ushered his family inside.

"Grandpa, where are we going?" Huang Jiajia yelled as he jumped into the driver's seat.

"Less talk, more driving! Head for Linhai first and find Chen Zheng! We can't fly at a time like this, so we'll have to drive ourselves. As for everyone else, send out a message telling them to make for Linhai!" Huang Zongshi shouted at the top of his lungs.

One after another, a convoy of cars sped out of the airport.

War was everywhere, and people were fleeing for their lives. This was supposed to be an era of peace and prosperity. No one could have imagined that while they were laughing and recording videos just moments ago, they would now be teetering on the brink of life and death.

「Meanwhile, at Shaolin Temple, Yucheng」

The grounds outside the Shaolin Temple were a complete mess, littered with the corpses of vanquished Sharp Ghosts. It seemed most of them had been intercepted before they could reach the populace.

Inside the temple's inner hall, over a hundred monks stood guard at the entrance, while many others watched on. The attire of these monks was vastly different from the common monks seen before; they seemed to be from another world entirely.

Within the room, under the dim light of an oil lamp, an old monk with a white beard and hair sat with his eyes downcast, dressed in simple robes. A middle-aged monk stood before him.

"Master, your disciple bids you farewell," the middle-aged monk said, bowing deeply before leaving.

The old monk then lifted his gaze to the few monks who remained before him. "The number of ghosts is incalculable. I'm afraid those who go this time may not return," he said softly.

"If that is our fate, then we will not return!" one of them declared resolutely.

The old monk let out a soft sigh, then stood and bowed toward an ancient Buddha statue. He murmured, "So be it. We shall support your endeavor. If you find him, you must capture him."

"Yes, Master!" the monks replied in unison, bowing before they departed.

On this day, four hundred and thirty-four monks left the Shaolin Temple.