Chapter 41: Worthy of Being My Opponent!
Fortunately, the gentle man who had been trying to calm the girl earlier acted swiftly. The moment the girl's mother rushed forward, sensing disaster, he lunged and pulled the girl to safety.
Meanwhile, Xia Feng executed the Ascension Step, pushing off with his feet in an awkward spiral to propel himself into the air.
Thankfully, no one could see him—otherwise, they'd have noticed a black-robed figure wearing a peculiar spade mask hovering midair, rising unsteadily with each clumsy step.
By the time he reached the fourth floor, Xia Feng vowed never to use such an absurd method of flight again.
Just as he grumbled internally, a sharp, furious slap echoed through the air.
"Pah!"
The middle-aged woman struck her daughter across the face, her voice shaking with rage. "You ungrateful wretch! After all these years of raising you, how could you turn out like this?"
The girl's head snapped to the side, her hair whipping in the wind. Her eyes were hollow, the world around her reduced to muffled noise and ringing ears. She stared blankly as her mother's lips moved, her body limp as the crowd jostled her forward like a puppet.
"Enough," the husband snapped, pulling his furious wife back. "I told you she wasn't serious about jumping. If she were, she'd have done it already."
From his vantage point, Xia Feng frowned at the grim scene, fighting the urge to curse. His sharp eyes caught the rapid swelling of the evil spirit within the girl—spurred by her mother's slap and her father's icy words.
"Shut up!" the gentle man suddenly roared, his patience spent. "I've told you—your daughter is suffering from Malaise, a mental affliction! You're only making it worse!"
"Malaise? How could our daughter, who wants for nothing, contract such a thing?" The middle-aged woman scoffed, shoving her daughter toward the stairs. "She's just throwing a tantrum! Move it, or you'll regret it at home!"
Xia Feng knew of Malaise—a condition where humans, steeped in extreme despair, became infected by evil spirits, manifesting this mental illness. Symptoms varied, but most victims exhibited suicidal urges.
In severe cases, they could even mutate into Doomed: half-human, half-evil abominations.
In the Empire, the Doomed were shunned, ostracized, and tormented—whispered about, isolated, and bullied without mercy.
"Swoosh—swoosh—"
Two sharp whistles cut through the air.
"Stop right there, damn you!"
Heads turned as a black-robed figure in a red heart mask leapt between rooftops, a Holy Ministry agent hot on his heels.
The crowd barely reacted. Such chases were routine on Xueye Street—black-robed figures were a common sight.
"You've got a death wish, huh?!"
A curse rang out. Xia Feng spun around—his heart lurched.
"Bang—"
The girl in the white dress soared upward, then vanished over the ledge with a dull thud.
Laughter and chatter died instantly. The street fell dead silent.
No one had seen her climb back up. No one understood why she'd jumped.
The middle-aged woman paled, trembling as she whirled on the gentle man. "You! This is your fault! You called her mentally ill, and now she's gone!"
"Give her back! You monster, bring my daughter back!" She collapsed into hysterics, clawing at him.
"Damn it—no, no—" Xia Feng pinched his brow, exhaling sharply. "If I keep watching this, my blood pressure's gonna explode."
He shut his eyes, focusing—
The scene before him fractured like broken glass, reality reasserting itself.
The girl stood frozen, her cheek still stinging from the slap, her gaze vacant. The crowd remained motionless, dazed.
"So, I was pulled into an illusion without realizing it." Xia Feng scanned the area, piecing it together.
Earlier, while searching for the hidden evil beast, he'd sensed a mental disturbance upon reaching the fourth floor. An average first-level Spiritualist might've been fooled—but as a Mushen-brand Spiritualist with heightened mental strength, he'd seen through the illusion instantly.
The downside? It forced him out of stealth, his black-robed form now visible on the rooftop.
Shalala—
Leaves rustled. Xia Feng turned to find another black-robed figure—this one in a red heart mask—perched on a distant tree, watching him intently.
"Hiss— Got hit after all."
The Holy Ministry agent chasing the heart-masked man staggered out of the illusion, clutching his head. "Damn, that illusion packs a punch. My skull's splitting."
Blinking away disorientation, he paled—two masked figures (one spade, one heart) were now staring at him.
What the—? The agent's pupils shrank. A trap?!
The Heart has an accomplice?!
His stomach dropped. One Heart was trouble enough—now a Spade too?
What kind of nightmare is this?!
Xia Feng recognized him—the same agent who'd pursued Mu Qingtong into the academy last time.
Before he could speak, the agent's expression cycled through panic, resolve, then sheer terror. In a flash, he bolted like a shooting star into the horizon.
"Heart and Spade! Mark my words—justice will prevail! I'll be back!"
Xia Feng: "..."
Mu Qingtong ignored the fleeing agent, her focus locked on the Spade mask.
She recognized the Qingtong Mask—her own creation, gifted only to Xia Feng.
Which meant the Spade before her was none other than her infuriating fiancé.
But what stunned her more? He'd upgraded it to a D-rank Spiritual Weapon capable of blocking detection.
As expected of someone worthy to be my opponent.
Her lips curled. Surprising, yet fitting.
"Hmm." Xia Feng cleared his throat, maintaining his disguised voice. "Any idea what's happening here?"
The Heart mask tilted toward the frozen crowd. "An experiment. Someone's using illusions to induce Malaise—trying to turn that girl into an evil. Evil souls are rare spiritual ingredients with... versatile applications."
"Pa-pa-pa!"
Slow claps echoed as a man emerged behind the white-clad girl, smirking.
"An excellent deduction. You two seem well-versed in Disaster Experiments. Colleagues, perhaps?"
(End of Chapter)