67: Chapter 67 Moonlit Cliff, I Won't Kneel

The wind at the Qingqiu border whipped snow against his face. Chen Fan squinted, seeing dark clouds hanging heavier than a swamp. Purple lightning surged at the base of the clouds like shards of glass embedded in a mass of crushed ink.

The copper coin on his chest was so hot it nearly burned through his clothes. His palm still bore the indented marks of the patrol edict token's metallic patterns—imprints left behind when he had gripped it too hard as blood seeped into the metal.

"Qingqiu... I'm back."

Su Shuang's voice was as soft as a sigh.

Chen Fan turned his head and saw her staggering, kneeling before a Boundary Stone half-buried in the snow. Her fingertips brushed over the blurred fox tattoo on the stone, ice crystals condensing on her eyelashes.

Her fox tail, once as fluffy as a flame, now hung limp and dejected, its tips stained with swamp mud.

Just as he reached out to support her, she suddenly bit her lip and a silver light flashed at her wrist—it was the Silver Comb she usually kept in her hair, now slicing open her wrist.

"Shuanger!" Chen Fan lunged toward her, but hit an invisible force field three steps away as if slamming into a ceiling, making his forehead throb with pain.

Fresh blood dripped from Su Shuang's wrist onto the Boundary Stone, the dark red blooming in the snow like a late-blossoming plum.

The Boundary Stone suddenly glowed with an eerie blue light. Three palm-sized map fragments rose from beneath the snow, circling twice above her head before snapping together with a click to form the outline of a Jade Seal.

"Only a pureblood sacrifice can break the seal."

A crisp, childlike voice emerged from the cracks in the stone.

Chen Fan saw a snowy white furball scramble onto Su Shuang's shoulder—it was the Jade Spirit, the fox-form artifact spirit that usually dozed under the Teahouse counter. Now, its eyes shone like two glazed glass beads. "When Qingqiu was massacred by the System years ago, the Jade Core was sealed within seven chains. Only the blood of a successor can awaken the seal."

Su Shuang did not respond, only pressing the Silver Comb deeper into her wrist.

The blood no longer dripped; it flowed down her arm, staining the hem of her moon-white dress red.

Chen Fan heard her teeth grinding, yet she was still smiling, just as she did when she used to brew osmanthus wine for him: "Mother said a fox's blood is hot... it can melt snow, it can burn lightning..." Before she could finish, she collapsed into the snow, her pearl hairpins scattering across the ground.

"Seal reconstruction program initiated. Target: qingqiu jade Core."

A mechanical voice boomed overhead.

Chen Fan looked up and saw a figure standing on a black tower a hundred yards away—it was Night Candle, the Administration Bureau Supervisor who was always clicking an abacus with his knuckles. His right hand was currently forming a strange seal, and seven black chains were snaking out from his fingertips, plunging into the snow at the four corners of the altar with a sharp whistle.

The moment the chains hit the ground, the phantom of the Jade Seal above Su Shuang's head twisted violently. The seal, which had just cracked open a sliver, began to close again.

"Motherfucker!" Chen Fan grabbed half a broken monument nearby and hurled it. The stone struck the chains, sending sparks flying, but it didn't even leave a white mark.

Desperate, he clawed at the force field until blood seeped from under his fingernails. Then, the sound of snow being crushed reached his ears—hundreds of black-armored men emerged from the snowy mist, the muzzles of their Soul-Purifying Guns glowing with an eerie blue light like a swarm of luminous venomous fangs.

The leader removed his mask, and the blood rushed to Chen Fan's head with a roar.

It was a face that bore a seventy percent resemblance to Su Shuang's, with a red mole in the exact same spot at the corner of the eye. However, a scar ran from the brow bone to the jaw: "Shuanger, you shouldn't have come back."

"Wu Xiang!" Chen Fan roared, his throat feeling as if it were on fire.

He remembered Su Shuang saying that on the night of the Qingqiu massacre, her uncle, who was the Guard Commander, was supposed to lead the clan's breakout. Instead, he had led the Administration Bureau to break through the barrier.

Now, this man was wearing the black armor of a Scavenger, the plates stained with fresh blood. "You say Qingqiu should be burned to ashes? Is that what you said when you buried my father and mother?"

Wu Xiang's pupils constricted into pinpricks.

The Scavengers behind him raised their guns simultaneously, their blue lights weaving into a net that descended upon them.

Chen Fan instinctively rolled behind a broken monument. Bullets grazed the tip of his ear and slammed into the snow, kicking up clouds of white mist.

He felt the patrol edict token in his pocket; the metal plate still held his body heat. He suddenly remembered the feeling of smashing the Patrolling Enforcer in the swamp—channeling critical hit power into his muscles just like he did when hauling cement, waiting for the enemy to show a weakness before striking.

"Three on the left!" He gritted his teeth, his left fist suddenly darting out from behind the monument in a feint.

The Scavengers' muzzles indeed turned left, but his right fist tightened in the shadows—[Hidden Critical Hit ×3]. A red system prompt flashed across his retina.

The moment his fist roared out, the air let out a dull boom. The armor of the three Scavengers on the left shattered like paper. They were slammed into the snowdrifts and didn't move for a long time.

But just as he was about to charge out, a flash of scarlet crossed his vision.

It wasn't a system prompt; it was an intuition, like the time he was carrying steel beams on a construction site and heard the faint snap of rebar about to break.

He stopped abruptly as a cold glint appeared on his right—a poisoned short sword grazed his neck and buried itself in the snow, leaving an icy hole.

Chen Fan threw a backhand punch, not holding back this time. The attacker and the blade were both smashed into a snow pit, though the sword tip still left a line of blood on his neck.

"This is..." He touched the blood on his neck, his heart beating so hard his eardrums ached.

That scarlet flash wasn't a hallucination; it was the first time he had "seen" the moment a critical hit was about to land. It was like a veil being pulled back in the mist, allowing him to clearly sense the danger of the next second.

"The chains are tightening!" Jade Spirit's scream pierced through the battlefield.

Chen Fan turned and saw Su Shuang slumped on the altar, her fingers clawing into the snow so hard her fingernails were torn back.

Night Candle's chains were emitting a piercing hum, and the crack in the Jade Seal's phantom was visibly shrinking.

Chen Fan could hear Su Shuang's breathing; it sounded like a broken bellows, every gasp bringing up bloody froth.

"Chen Fan!" She suddenly looked up, the red mole at the corner of her eye smeared with blood like an indelible drop of cinnabar. "Strike the Chain Nodes! At... at the connection between the third chain and the altar!"

Chen Fan followed her gaze and indeed saw a cluster of dark purple light pulsing where the third chain was anchored in the snow.

He touched the copper coin on his chest. This time it wasn't burning; it was a searing power surging through his veins into his limbs. It was like the breath he used to hold in his chest when carrying three hundred pounds of cement to the sixth floor—and now, he was going to pour all of it into this one punch.

System alarms blared in his ears: [Abnormal energy accumulation detected. Initiating Hunting Mark.] [Target threat level increased to S-rank.] [Immediate termination recommended...]

He grinned, revealing bloody molars.

The wind and snow suddenly stopped. Moonlight leaked through a gap in the clouds, shining on the snow on his hair and sparkling like crushed diamonds.

He crouched low, just as he used to when operating a crane on the construction site, planting his feet firmly and channeling all his critical hit power into his fist—Hidden Critical Hit ×4. This time, he would strike at the System's softest spot.

"Don't you love to calculate?" he roared at the sky, his voice shaking the snow off the broken monuments. "Today, the only thing I'm calculating is a debt of lives!"

Before his voice faded, his figure had already leaped into the air.

Before his fist even reached the Chain Node, the surrounding wind and snow split open as if sliced by an invisible blade.

Moonlight fell through that rift, illuminating his clenched fist and revealing dense Critical Hit Patterns that looked like living red snakes.

Night Candle's movements on the high tower froze.

Wu Xiang's Soul-Purifying Gun dropped into the snow.

Even Jade Spirit forgot to wail.

Everyone stared at that airborne figure, at that fist—

That fist was about to slam into the Chain Node.