After the slaughter, Lin lan gradually suppressed the malevolent aura surging from the Blood Slaughter Bone Blade.
The violent resonance faded, and his consciousness slowly returned to clarity.
He turned his skull, surveying the surroundings.
The scene was pure devastation.
Mangled corpses littered the ground. Pools of dark crimson blood soaked into shattered concrete. The stench of gunpowder and death hung thick in the air.
Lin lan felt no urge to vomit—only a faint, lingering discomfort.
He had witnessed countless brutal battles in the Nine Netherworlds, but this was the first time he had taken human lives.
Yet he felt no regret.
If he hadn't killed them, they would have killed him.
There had been no choice.
And more importantly—no innocent soul lay among the dead.
After a moment of silence, Lin lan turned and headed downstairs, leaving the fifty million dollars buried beneath the rubble. The room that stored the cash had been blown apart beyond recognition. Retrieving it would be troublesome—and at present, money meant nothing to him.
Downstairs, Liang Wan was still filming him with her DV camera.
"That's enough," Lin lan said irritably.
"You've filmed more than enough. I'm not some lab specimen."
Liang Wan smiled calmly and lowered the camera.
"So… you're not stopping me from broadcasting this?"
"If I said no," Lin lan replied, "would you listen?"
"No," she answered honestly.
"Exactly." He shrugged. "Then go ahead. Air it. It won't affect me."
Liang Wan couldn't help but laugh.
"I'm grateful," she said softly. "If you hadn't arrived when you did, I wouldn't be alive."
"No big deal," Lin lan replied. "Just don't throw things at me next time I show up."
Liang Wan flushed, recalling the bathroom incident.
"If you keep appearing out of thin air like that, I'll still throw things."
Lin lan silently concluded that Miss Liang possessed dangerous violent tendencies.
After staring at her for a moment, he suddenly asked,
"What were you like… when you were alive?"
The question startled her.
After a brief pause, Liang Wan answered thoughtfully,
"Quite ordinary. The kind of person you wouldn't recognize twice if we passed on the street."
"Is that so?" Lin lan nodded. "From the way you talk, it sounds like you haven't been dead long."
She blinked. "Then how did you become a skeleton?"
Lin lan didn't want to expose his past.
"I forgot," he said flatly.
"Forgot?" Liang Wan tilted her head, studying him with sharp, curious eyes until even a skeleton felt uneasy.
She smiled and changed the subject.
"So you'll stay like this forever?"
"Not necessarily," Lin lan said, puffing out his chest.
"Maybe one day, I'll turn human again."
Liang Wan burst out laughing.
"If that happens," she said, "you must come find me. I really want to see what you look like as a person."
Lin lan glanced at the Nine Netherworld Divine Jade resting against her chest.
Perfect.
He touched the Void-Piercing Divine Ring on his finger and murmured an incantation.
The air trembled.
A faint blue gate shimmered into existence.
Under Liang Wan's astonished gaze, Lin lan waved once—and stepped through.
The gate vanished.
Silence returned.
Liang Wan stood there, stunned.
Every encounter with this skeleton only deepened the mystery surrounding him.
Clutching her DV camera, she took a deep breath and hurried out of the building.
At least… she had captured everything.
After parting with Ruth, Liang Wan returned to the TV station and marched straight into the editor-in-chief's office, confident and resolute.
She handed over the footage.
She expected praise.
Instead, she was met with fury.
The editor-in-chief slammed the desk, accusing her of fabricating fake news for attention. He refused to listen, dismissing her explanation outright and ordering her out.
Liang Wan's face flushed red with rage.
For a journalist, being accused of falsifying news was the ultimate insult.
Without hesitation, she submitted her resignation and walked out.
That night, back in her apartment, her anger slowly cooled—but her resolve hardened.
This story was the culmination of her career. She had risked her life for it.
She refused to let it die.
She copied the footage to her computer, edited the video, extracted key still images, and posted everything on her personal blog—along with a detailed account of the night's events.
Better the truth reach many than be buried by silence, she thought.
Deep into the night, when most of the city slept, Gao Sen sat before his computer, eyes bloodshot.
He hadn't slept in two days.
Because he was about to lose everything.
A young Spanish immigrant, Gao Sen had founded a video-sharing website right after graduation. Inspired by YouTube's meteoric rise, he believed he would succeed.
He had—briefly.
Then competitors flooded the market. Traffic collapsed. Advertisers vanished. Investors withdrew.
Traffic was everything.
Without it, there was no revenue.
Now his employees were gone. His savings exhausted. His site was barely alive.
"What… could save it?" he muttered, chain-smoking as his cursor drifted aimlessly.
Then he clicked on Liang Wan's blog.
At first, he scoffed.
Skeletons? Undead? Gang wars?
Ridiculous.
But something gnawed at him.
Screenshots.
Video stills.
If this footage is real…
The thought was insane.
But desperation makes insanity reasonable.
Two seconds later, he contacted Liang Wan.
After a brief introduction, he requested to view the full combat footage, offering payment.
Liang Wan didn't hesitate.
Money didn't matter.
She sent the video.
Gao Sen watched it—and froze.
Automatic sniper rifles. Grenade launchers. Military-grade weapons.
All neutralized.
By a skeleton.
"This… this has to be a movie trailer," he whispered.
But no film existed.
His cigarette burned through his shirt.
His hands trembled.
Could this be real?
Hope exploded in his chest.
He called Liang Wan immediately and bought the video outright.
Minutes later, he uploaded it.
Exhaustion vanished.
He stared at the traffic counter.
At first—nothing.
His heart sank.
Then—
The numbers jumped.
Hundreds. Thousands. Tens of thousands.
The curve went vertical.
Traffic surged like a tidal wave.
"God! Satan! You didn't abandon me!" Gao Sen screamed—then stopped himself.
"No—no—forget them! Praise belongs to that skull!"
He laughed wildly.
"My savior… my guiding light! To hell with gods—I believe in the skeleton!"
The screen reflected his manic grin.
The storm had begun.