hotmtlnovel Page 100
Page 100
His tight-fitting vest ripped apart with a loud crack!
More than a dozen streaks of dark light shot out like venomous snakes emerging from their holes, accompanied by a piercing shriek that cut through the air!
It was his most treasured, reforged, inferior dragon-pecking cone!
A beam of dark light shot precisely at a vengeful spirit that was rushing towards them!
However, a chilling scene unfolded!
Those vengeful spirits did not flinch or dodge when faced with the dragon-pecking cone that was powerful enough to pierce through steel plates!
The charred spirit at the forefront suddenly opened its huge, black mouth. It was not a physical entity, but two rows of sharp, white teeth formed from pure resentment appeared out of thin air!
"Cluck cluck cluck—click!"
A piercing metallic scraping sound rang out!
The dragon-pecking cone that was shot at it was actually bitten down by the vengeful spirit with its pale white teeth!
The dark light trembled violently, emitting a mournful buzzing sound!
Other dragon-pecking cones were either narrowly avoided by other vengeful spirits twisting their bodies, or struck the spirits like mud oxen sinking into the sea, merely stirring up a few ripples of resentment and causing no real damage!
Instead, it was countered by the chilling resentment emanating from the vengeful spirit, and the dark light dimmed instantly!
Jia Zhengyu's expression completely changed!
His Dragon-Piercing Cone was indestructible, and the Qi it contained was extremely violent, capable of breaking through all kinds of protective techniques. However, it had little effect on these Wang family ghosts driven by pure resentment, especially those that had been combined with Wang Bing's own extreme hatred!
As the dozen or so black figures, radiating boundless resentment, pounced in front of him, the chilling aura almost froze his blood, and a sharp wail pierced his brain!
A peaceful and gentle voice, even tinged with a hint of sorrow and sigh, rang out. It was not loud, but it strangely pierced through the shrieks of all the vengeful spirits.
Dou Mei, who had been sitting quietly to the side, put down the enamel mug in her hand.
She didn't look at the approaching vengeful spirits, or even at the hideous-looking Wang Bing. Her unfathomable eyes were calmly fixed on a certain point in the void, as if watching an insignificant farce.
She raised one hand, revealing a fair and delicate wrist.
A strange, viscous "qi" with a faint, sweet, pollen-like scent spread silently, like a soft veil. This qi was not strong, nor was it aggressive; instead, it carried a drowsy, languid tranquility that made people feel drowsy.
However, the moment this aura touched the frantically attacking vengeful spirits—
A miracle happened.
Those twisted, howling, and resentful black spirits suddenly froze!
The狰狞痛表情 (zhengning tongtong tongtong, meaning ferocious and painful expressions) on their faces, like ink thrown into water, began to blur and fade rapidly.
The piercing scream turned into a sob, and finally into a few bewildered and low moans.
The frenzied, blood-red light in the eyes of the dozen or so spirits faded rapidly, replaced by an empty bewilderment and a deep weariness.
They hovered in mid-air, their churning resentment subsiding and dissipating like boiling oil being doused with cold water, eventually turning into wisps of thin black smoke that retreated back into the shadows behind Wang Bing, leaving only blurry outlines and emitting weak whimpers like wounded cubs.
The whole hall fell into deathly silence.
The only sounds were Wang Bing's heavy, labored breathing, like a broken bellows, and the soft thud of cold sweat dripping from Jia Zhengyu's forehead onto the table.
Dou Mei slowly stood up, her floral dress swaying gently with her movements.
She walked up to Wang Bing, who was as stiff as a stone sculpture, and got very close.
Wang Bing could smell the scent on her that was a mixture of cheap perfume and some strange herbs.
"It hurts a lot, doesn't it?" Dou Mei's voice was still gentle, even carrying a hint of maternal pity. Her gaze fell on Wang Bing's bloodshot eyes, filled with endless hatred, as if she were looking at a broken work of art. "Your home is gone, your relatives have become vengeful spirits... You've been abandoned by everyone... This hatred is like a red-hot iron spike, piercing your heart day and night, burning you to the point of madness, isn't it?"
Her voice was like a spell, each word striking precisely at the deepest wound in Wang Bing's heart, tearing open that bloody wound once again!
Wang Bing's body trembled violently, and he bit his lower lip tightly, the taste of blood filling his mouth.
He didn't deny it, nor could he deny it. This woman saw right through him!
Those seemingly compassionate eyes, like a cold mirror, reflected the ugliest, most painful, and most hysterical parts of his soul!
Dou Mei tilted her head slightly, a barely perceptible, almost sorrowful smile curving her lips: "Child, hatred is not the end. It is a raging fire that burns everything, too fierce, and will burn you to ashes as well."
Her words carried a strange contradiction, sounding both like consolation and seduction: "You need a place where this hatred... can find its value."
She reached out her hand, her fair hand with neatly trimmed nails, and gently, like a feather, brushed against Wang's taut, cold cheek.
The movements were so gentle they were almost eerie.
"Join us, 'Thorn in the Heart'."
Dou Mei's voice lowered, carrying an undeniable allure, "Take your hatred, your pain, the resentful souls behind you... and turn them all into your strength. Let those who took everything from you, let those who ignored you, let this whole world... taste the pain of having your heart pierced."
“A thorn in my heart…” Wang Bing murmured, repeating the three words, his chapped lips moving.
Deep within his empty eyes, the fire of hatred, stirred by Dou Mei's words and nourished by the resentment of the Wang family's dead souls, suddenly flared up!
It was no longer the chaotic and disorderly madness of before, but had coalesced into a cold, clearly directed obsession filled with boundless malice!
He suddenly raised his head, his bloodshot eyes fixed on Dou Mei's deep, pool-like eyes, then glanced at Jia Zhengyu, whose face was ashen and whose eyes held a complex and unfathomable expression.
"Fine!" Wang spat out the word through gritted teeth, his voice hoarse like sandpaper, yet carrying a resolute and mad determination to risk everything!
He no longer suppressed the restless and vengeful spirits behind him! Instead, he opened his arms wide!
The black aura spread once again!
A dozen blurry, vengeful ghostly figures silently churned and hissed behind him!
This time, they were no longer chaotic and disorderly, but rather subtly gathered and surrounded Wang Bing, like loyal yet ferocious black wings!
The strongest vengeful spirit that originally belonged to Wang Ai, its charred and twisted body bobbing behind Wang Bing, its empty eye sockets staring intently at Jia Zhengyu and Dou Mei in front of them, silently radiating a chilling threat!
Wang Bing slowly raised his right hand, his five fingers spread out, palm facing upward.
A wisp of extremely thin yet incredibly pure black energy, carrying a chilling hatred and a deathly aura, meandered and moved in his palm like a living thing—that was the manifestation of the core source energy of the Spirit Binding and Commanding system!
This is proof that he controls the group of vengeful spirits behind him, and even controls the power of his own "hatred"!
Jia Zhengyu looked at the wisp of black energy, then at the menacing vengeful spirit behind Wang Bing, especially the charred spirit exuding Wang Ai's aura, and the muscles on his face twitched violently a few times.
The last trace of disdain and mockery in his eyes vanished completely, replaced by deep apprehension. He remained silent, offering no objection.
Dou Mei's face revealed a satisfied smile, like a poisonous flower blooming in a crack in the rock. She gently grasped Wang Bing's raised hand, her cold fingers resting on his equally cold wrist.
“Welcome to the team, ‘Thorn in the Heart’ Wang Bing.” Her voice was like a venomous snake gliding across cold rocks. “From this day forward, your hatred will no longer be a weakness, but the sharpest spear piercing the heart of your enemy.”
Wang let her hand rest on his head, his face expressionless.
Only the flame of hatred in his eyes burned ever colder, purer, and more deadly under Dou Mei's gaze and amidst the silent wails of the Wang family's dead souls behind him.
He looked out into the deep night, as if piercing through the endless darkness to see a calm figure.
Wang Bing joined Quanxing and became one of the new Four Madmen, codenamed "Hate is a Thorn in My Heart" Wang Bing!
........
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Chapter 107 Old Friends Pass Away
On the other side, in Lüjia Village.
Deep within the ancestral hall of Lüjia Village, Lü Ci's withered, claw-like fingers held a secret report, his dim, yellowish eyes slowly moving across the paper.
When he saw the words "Wang Bing", "Quanxing", and "thorn in his heart", his deeply lined face twitched violently, his mouth stretched uncontrollably to the sides, and a series of suppressed "ho ho" sounds, like the low howl of a night owl, came from his throat.
"Hahaha...Retribution! It really is retribution!" Lu Ci slammed his hand on the cold, hard rosewood armchair beneath him, his voice hoarse yet carrying an almost childlike malicious glee. "Wang Ai! You old dog! Open your dead fish eyes and look! Your Wang family's precious darling, held in the palm of your hand, has now become a 'thorn in the side' for those rats in the gutter of Quanxing! Hahahaha! 'A thorn in the side'? What a name! What a damn good name! Wang Ai, can you, you old bastard, lie in your coffin down there? Your bones must be about to explode from anger at your unfilial descendant, right? Hahahaha!"
When Lü Liang became one of the Four Madmen of Quanxing, Wang Ai laughed at him for a long time. Now Lü Ci should be laughing back.
The violent laughter crashed through the empty and solemn ancestral hall, making the ancestral tablets seem to tremble slightly.
He laughed so hard he almost fell over, and cloudy tears squeezed out from the corners of his dry eyes.
The intense urge to immediately shower Wang Ai with this incredible "good news" gripped Lü Ci's heart like a poisonous vine, bringing a near-suffocating thrill of excitement.
He could even imagine how Wang Ai's always gloomy and cold face would instantly twist, turn red, and finally turn ashen when he received the call... Just thinking about that impotent rage made Lü Ci's fingers tremble with excitement!
With an almost theatrical, deliberately exaggerated eagerness, his withered fingers trembled as he pulled a flip phone, equally weathered, from the inner pocket of his old, button-down jacket.
The screen is small, and the buttons are raised and worn smooth and shiny.
He opened the lid, his movements even a little clumsy with excitement, his fingertips eagerly tapping on the small number keys—that number, which he knew by heart, had been etched into his very bones even though he hadn't dialed it for over a decade.
Beep...beep...beep...
The monotonous, repetitive, and emotionless electronic notification sounds, like cold water droplets, fell one by one onto Lü Ci's heart, which was burning with ecstasy.
The sinister smile on Lü Ci's face suddenly froze.
Beep...beep...beep...
It's not busy, it's not switched off, it's just that no one is answering.
Wang Ai... is no longer here.
That old rival who fought him for most of his life, who hated each other so much that he wanted to tear each other apart, yet who coexisted with him like a mirror image on some twisted level... is gone.
The phone remained stubbornly pressed against my ear, repeating that incessantly urgent busy tone.
Lu Ci's emaciated body seemed to have all its support drained away in an instant, slowly and stiffly leaning back against the cold rosewood chair. He remained in the position of holding his phone, like a frozen, bizarre statue.
The ancestral hall was deathly silent.
Only the wisps of smoke from the agarwood incense burner continued to rise silently, straight as before, but they could no longer be disturbed in the slightest by Lü Ci's unrestrained laughter as they had been just moments before.
His grin slowly drooped, forming two deep, downward-sloping lines. The few cloudy tears that had welled up in his eyes from his earlier laughter were still wet, but now they seemed to carry something entirely different, something heavier and more profound.
The pleasure? A trace remained, like a spark falling into ice water, extinguished with a hiss.
Instead, something huge, heavy, and suffocating quickly filled his chest, which had just been swollen from his maniacal laughter.
A kind of melancholy, ingrained, and rusty desolation.
The person who fought with him his whole life, hated him his whole life, yet also served as a reference point, imprinting most of his life's trajectory, is gone.
Whom can he laugh at? To whom can he boast of this "victory"? To whom can he tell this "good news" that the Wang family bloodline has completely fallen into depravity?
Lu Ci sat there motionless, holding his now-silent phone to his ear.
The murky gaze lost its focus, aimlessly piercing through the shadows of the ancestral hall and casting its gaze into some empty space.