Seeing the flush on my face slowly fade, Sun Fatty simply raised his voice and went on, "Relax. Old Xiao is already on his way with reinforcements. Whatever's going on here is big enough to alert Director Wu and Yang Xiao. For all we know, they're already waiting at the top of the shaft…" He didn't finish. The collapsed floor of the warehouse began to tremble again.
Unlike the previous tremors that preceded the collapse, this one was lighter. Then, right where the secret chamber used to be, a small mound of dirt began to rise. Under the glare of Sun Fatty's flashlight, all ten of our eyes were locked onto that mound. It grew steadily larger until it became a small hillock—then, a pitch-black arm suddenly burst from within.
The figure that followed clawed its way up from the mound—completely naked. When he saw us, he bared his mouthful of tiny black teeth in a grin and said, "Sorry to disappoint…"
Zhang Rantian.From his neck to his chest, the arrowheads of several bolts were still visibly embedded. One bolt had even gone through his head, its shaft still sticking out from his forehead like a long screw riveted into his skull. A gaping wound in his chest—where the broadsword had pierced through—was now visibly healing, shrinking before our very eyes.
We all exchanged uncertain glances. If Zhang Rantian had managed to crawl out of that collapse alive… what about Yang Jun? Had something happened to him? Anxiety surged in my chest and I blurted, "Where's Yang Jun? What happened to him?" Zhang Rantian gave me a nonchalant shrug and said, "Yang Jun… You mean the white-haired guy? What do you think—maybe I dragged him out with me?" He chuckled again, a ghastly laugh.
"Lazi, quit wasting words with him," Sun Fatty muttered from behind me in a low voice. "Guys, seriously—not to jinx anything, but we should get the hell out of here. That little bastard just got wrecked by Yang Jun and clawed his way up from below. No way he's got enough juice left to chase us down… Hugo, what the hell are you doing?!"
Just as Sun Fatty started looking for a way out, Hugo unexpectedly stepped into the warehouse. He was walking directly toward Zhang Rantian. The movement caught all of us off guard—including Zhang Rantian himself, who instinctively took a step back, watching Hugo coldly.
Hugo was still dressed in his ceremonial priest's robe from yesterday's wedding. But now the crucifix that had once hung from his neck had been untied and wrapped around his hand. Who knew what he was planning?
He only stopped when he was about ten meters from Zhang Rantian. Then, drawing a cross in the air before his chest, he spoke with solemnity:"Lost lamb, lay down your sins and return to the embrace of the Father. God loves all creation. Bathed in the Lord's holy light, even the gravest sins can be forgiven…"
While Hugo spoke, Zhang Rantian grew visibly tense. He eyed Hugo with uncommon wariness—a sharp contrast to the ease with which he had earlier faced off against Yang Jun.
Before Hugo could finish, Zhang Rantian cut him off. "Spare me the spit, foreigner. You'd be better off running with the rest of them—maybe I won't bother chasing you. Could give you a sliver of hope."The tone in his voice made my heart jolt. Was he… letting us go? And what was this fear he was showing toward Hugo?
"Damn, looks like we really underestimated Hugo," Sun Fatty whispered behind me. He wasn't alone—Hao Zhengyi was also staring at the standoff with furrowed brows, visibly puzzled.
If not for Yang Jun's earlier warning, Sun Fatty probably would've already dragged me straight into the corridor's end—missing this bizarre turn of events. And given how unclear Hugo's motives were, I dared not rush in to help, fearing I'd just get in the way.
Now Hugo stood tall and solemn, an aura of sacredness surrounding him. Sensing Zhang Rantian's unease, he stepped forward again, pressing the crucifix to his chest."All creation exists under the Lord's watchful eye. It is not too late to lay down your wicked deeds. Return to His embrace."
That extra step made Zhang Rantian recoil yet again. He said nothing, but his gaze was sharp and guarded.
The tug-of-war between the two was bizarre. None of us could make sense of what we were seeing. Zhang Rantian had clearly suffered multiple fatal injuries, yet not only did he survive, he seemed nearly invincible. And now, the same Zhang Rantian who had fought off Yang Jun was retreating—step by step—from Hugo?
At my side, Crow seemed to catch on to something. His expression changed, and he made several quick hand gestures toward Hao Zhengyi. The latter appeared to understand, nodding in return without saying anything.
This scene just kept getting stranger. Zhang Rantian had climbed out from the collapsed earth like it was nothing, despite injuries that should've killed him three times over. And now Hugo—whom we had all taken for a symbolic figurehead among the six Bureau directors—was forcing him to retreat?
Was it possible we had completely misjudged this foreigner?
Just then, Sun Fatty leaned toward Hao Zhengyi and said, "Director Hao, you're the senior here. Us juniors really don't know what's going on—we're counting on you to enlighten us. What kind of spiritual Red Bull did our Director Hugo just chug? If we knew he had it in him, we wouldn't have had to throw Big Yang into the meat grinder back there."
Hao Zhengyi turned to glance at Sun Fatty. I'd always found his attitude toward Sun Fatty a bit hard to stomach. I thought someone of his rank—Chairman of the Religious Affairs Commission—wouldn't lower himself to explain things to a small-time Bureau agent. But to my surprise, Hao Zhengyi didn't keep anything back…
"Little Fatty, since you're being so polite, I'll teach you one thing," Chairman Hao said, turning his head back to look at Hugo and Zhang Rantian, but speaking directly to Sun Fatty, "From what I see now, Zhang Rantian and your black cat are both quite perfect examples of Nyeh. But don't expect your black cat to be much of a threat to Zhang Rantian. Just like normal people and cats, do humans fear cats?"
These words were not what Sun Fatty wanted to hear. He sighed and said, "I'm just saying, Chairman Hao, can we cut to the chase? If Director Yu starts making moves, I still don't know why he dares to do it."
"I was going to teach you some knowledge, but you wouldn't listen. There won't be another chance," Hao Zhengyi said with a slightly displeased tone but continued, "Nyeh are born against the fundamental principles of Taoism and Buddhism, so almost all talismans and incantations from the two religions have no effect on them. But your Director Yu is different—his religion came to China too late. Nyeh themselves dare not lightly confront this kind of divine power, so they reject it fiercely."
Sun Fatty blinked and looked at the still tense Hugo and Zhang Rantian, then said, "Zhang Rantian doesn't dare easily provoke Director Yu. I'm just saying, his knowledge is shallow and he's uncertain inside. But if they really fought, who would have the upper hand?"
Hao Zhengyi sneered, "You'll find out soon enough."
While Hao was speaking, a new situation had developed between Hugo and Zhang Rantian. Every step Hugo took forward forced Zhang Rantian to take a step back. They kept about ten meters apart. After retreating four or five times, Zhang Rantian suddenly grew impatient. His gaze at Hugo was filled with both disgust and vigilance.
As Hugo kept closing the gap, Zhang Rantian began pulling out the crossbow bolts embedded in his body one by one—except for the one still stuck in the center of his brow (perhaps forgotten). All the others were pulled free.
When Hugo approached again, Zhang Rantian showed no intention of retreating. He stepped forward toward Hugo—one step, then another, then a third. This move surprised Hugo. By the time he reacted, Zhang Rantian was already in front of him.
Zhang Rantian grinned viciously. His black fingernails suddenly lengthened sharply, signaling he was about to stab into Hugo's heart. Just as his claws were about to touch Hugo, Director Yu reacted. He swung his right hand and slapped Zhang Rantian's left cheek. At first, I thought Hugo must have some amazing trick up his sleeve to dare press Zhang Rantian like this. But in the moment of truth, he just slapped Zhang's face. I felt my heart drop—if slapping was effective, why bother with Yang Jun? This slap probably meant Hugo was about to lose.
But then an unbelievable scene happened. There was a crisp "smack." The slap landed solidly on Zhang Rantian's face and knocked him to the ground. Zhang rolled on the floor, trying to get up, but his body trembled uncontrollably. His eyes looked somewhat dazed. After shaking his head hard to steady himself, he barely managed to stand. By the flashlight beam from Sun Fatty, I saw Zhang's lips twitching as if he had a stroke.
This slap shocked us all, not only me and Sun Fatty but even Hao Zhengyi. Among us from the Bureau of Paranormal Investigation, he feared Yang Jun and Xiao Heshang the most. As for Director Yu, all his actions over the years were monitored by the Religious Affairs Commission's intelligence. Zhang Rantian had been classified alongside me and Sun Fatty—yet Yang Jun couldn't handle him, and now Hugo just slapped him flat.
Sun Fatty looked at Hugo, eyes wide, and said, "I'm just saying, how did Zhang Rantian get so easy to deal with? If I'd known, I'd have slapped him myself. Honestly, Director Yu is still a bit lacking when it comes to slapping."
By now, I caught on a little. Though Sun Fatty was babbling nonsense, maybe he'd noticed something. I explained, "Big Sage, you think it's that easy? Look at the hand that slapped Zhang Rantian."
Hugo's hand was wrapped in a necklace with a cross pendant, the cross fitting exactly into his palm. Sun Fatty swung the flashlight onto Zhang Rantian's face—sure enough, on the side that was slapped, there was a small cross-shaped dent.
That slap left Zhang Rantian dazed. After recovering, he kept retreating, trying to put distance between himself and Director Yu.
At this moment, the other party's expression looked awkward. He didn't expect the slap to have such an effect. Watching him, I increasingly suspected that the slap was just a natural reflex by Hugo, and this outcome was a stroke of luck. But I guessed Hugo had other tricks—he just didn't have time to use them. That slap was an instinct; no one expected it to be so powerful.
Seeing the cross necklace, Sun Fatty suddenly shouted at him, "Director Yu! Do you have more of those cross necklaces? Pass a few around to help the brothers out!"
Sun Fatty's words seemed to alert Zhang Rantian. The moment they fell, Zhang gave a low roar and disappeared on the spot like a "living dead."
After Zhang vanished, his low roars echoed intermittently in the warehouse. Hugo couldn't see the enemy, so he took out his last bottle of holy water and sprinkled half of it around himself in a 360-degree circle. Just less than two meters to his left, the holy water floated in midair instead of falling to the ground.
Hugo's eyes sharpened, and he slapped that spot again.
"Smack." Another crisp slap sounded. A black shadow of Zhang Rantian appeared out of nowhere and was once again slapped down hard.
Having learned from the first slap, Zhang rolled on the ground quickly and stood up again. This time Hugo also gained experience. After Zhang got up, Hugo followed closely and slapped him a third time.
Though Zhang's body was still unsteady, he couldn't dodge the third slap. "Smack." He fell again. As he hit the ground, the fourth, fifth, and sixth slaps followed in quick succession.
Eventually, Zhang Rantian lay motionless on the floor. One side of his face looked swollen as if he had bitten into an egg. We watched dumbfounded. I started to suspect Zhang wouldn't withstand any more of Hugo's slaps.
Seeing Zhang weakened, Director Yu poured the remaining half bottle of holy water into Zhang's mouth. The moment the holy water went in, Zhang screamed monstrously and spat out black ink-like liquid. Hugo wasn't prepared; though he stepped back, most of the black liquid splattered onto his clothes.
The black liquid smelled strongly of blood. Hugo stepped back several times, then stopped. He held his breath and took off his priest's robe. Though he wasn't a neat freak, the pungent bloody smell made him gag repeatedly. If he hadn't barely eaten all day, he might have vomited for sure.
By then, Zhang Rantian was lying on the ground, motionless. That one round of slaps plus half a bottle of holy water nearly forced him back to his original form.
After a while with no movement from Zhang, I couldn't wait any longer. Without greeting Sun Fatty, I rushed to the hole where Zhang had come out of the ground.
Though called a hole, it had long been covered by sand and soil. I lay on the dirt mound from which Zhang had emerged and shouted down, "Yang Jun, how are you? Can you move? If you can't speak, at least make some noise so I can come down and get you."
After my shout, the silence below was like death—no sound at all.
Sun Fatty soon caught up. He looked at the reburied mound, patted my shoulder, and said, "Lazi, Big Yang's no ordinary civilian. Believe it or not, even if he was buried alive for a year, he'd come out still lively."
Then he shifted tone: "But right now, with just the few of us and no tools, trying to dig Big Yang out with our bare hands is basically impossible."
Though I knew Sun Fatty spoke truth, the thought of helplessly watching Yang Jun buried underground stabbed at my heart.
Just then, Hugo said to us, "Shen, Sun, I think I might have done something wrong…"
Sun Fatty and I turned toward him and saw Director Yu staring blankly at the still motionless Zhang Rantian on the ground.