Meanwhile, out on a wasteland more than a hundred kilometers from Twilight Town, a brutal fight was taking place.
Soulvore stood in the middle of the battlefield, one hand gripping a survivor from Fo Shan by the neck, holding her high in the air, while his other hand held his phone.
Soulvore was a tall man, but unusually skinny. He wore a tight black leather suit and a strangely shaped tall hat hat. His face was thin and pale, with deep, sharp features — but lacked any human expression, looking cold and ruthless.
At that moment, his face was smeared with dust and dirt — a sign that these Fo Shan fighters weren't easy to deal with.
Around him, a dozen or so bodies lay scattered across the ground. Blood soaked the earth.
These bodies were all survivors from Fo Shan. They had formed a guerrilla group to fight back against the Unified Nation's rule, constantly attacking military facilities.
But even though their martial arts gave Soulvore and his Second Unit some trouble — it was only some trouble. Their overall strength was nothing compared to Soulvore.
A few remaining Fo Shan survivors stood in front of Soulvore, covered in blood, holding various martial arts stances. One was a Wing Chun master holding butterfly knives. Another was a Hung Gar master wielding a guan dao. One had incredible leg skills. Another held nunchucks.
They were breathing hard, staring at Soulvore with fear and despair in their eyes.
Among the survivors was an elderly man, a descendant of the Yang family spear technique. He leaned on a hidden-blade cane, his movements steady and experienced.
"Soulvore... you demon... Fo Shan will never give up!" the old man shouted hoarsely.
"Is that right?" Soulvore's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Then let's see how long you can hold on."
With that, he squeezed hard on the female survivor in his hand.
Her face grew paler and paler. Her eyes lost their light, becoming empty and lifeless.
Her soul was being forcibly ripped out of her body.
Seeing this, the Fo Shan survivors roared and charged at Soulvore, launching their final stand.
On the other side, after drinking some river water, Wu Ji walked a long, long way. He climbed over hills, crossed through forests. The path under his feet got rougher, but he never gave up.
Finally, on the evening of the third day, he arrived at the entrance of Silent Fog Village.
He was starving and exhausted. The bread in his bag was already gone. But a strange excitement welled up inside him.
What he didn't know was that an unread message had arrived on his phone. The sender was his mother.
ns216.73.216.134da2
→ Request update
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