Now... It's My Turn

Looking at the crowd around him—expressionless, eyes hollow—Wang Ye wiped the blood off his face.

"Now."

"It's my turn."

As he spoke, the fire axe seemed weightless in his hands, swinging relentlessly.

One head after another fell to the ground with each swing of the axe. In just three minutes, no one was left standing within dozens of meters of Wang Ye.

Blood pooled across the floor.

The severed heads stared at Wang Ye with cold, vacant eyes, but without their bodies, they could do nothing to him.

"Die!"

"Die!"

Harsh, chilling voices rang out from the heads, echoing endlessly in Wang Ye's ears.

Drenched in blood, fire axe in hand, Wang Ye stood amid the corpses like a demon, his entire being radiating a fierce killing intent.

In that moment.

He was more ghost than the ghosts themselves.

"Any more?"

Wang Ye grinned savagely, but his eyes remained eerily calm.

Because his body had just been strengthened, he should have been gasping for breath by now—yet instead, he felt remarkably good.

Clearly, this ghost could control the dead bodies. In that case, without finding the ghost's source, violence was the most efficient method.

If he'd clung to kindness, thinking these people might still be saved, then the one who'd die would be Wang Ye.

He knew that well, so he struck without hesitation.

Just then.

A young man ran over, panting. His eyes lit up at the sight of Wang Ye, brimming with joy: "Are you the reinforcements from Headquarters?"

"I'm Zhang Han. The other two are trapped by a ghost right now—they need help."

Zhang Han spoke excitedly.

Wang Ye turned coldly, facing Zhang Han, a sharp killing intent radiating from him.

"Where are they?"

Wang Ye asked, his face expressionless.

"On the fourth floor!!!"

Zhang Han's voice was urgent, laced with anxiety: "I'll take you there. Right now, there's someone on the fourth floor who looks exactly like me, mixed in with them. If we delay any longer, they'll be in danger!"

With that, Zhang Han headed for the stairwell.

The next second.

The cold blade of the fire axe sank into Zhang Han's neck. He turned in shock, staring at Wang Ye with disbelief.

"Why."

He seemed to use every last ounce of strength to utter those three words, then his eyes closed for good.

Wang Ye silently withdrew the axe: "You saw me and didn't even confirm my identity before believing I was from Headquarters."

"With four Superhumans already dead, you didn't find it strange that Headquarters sent only one person."

"Seeing a ground full of corpses without any surprise or suspicion—you're insulting my intelligence."

"And finally."

"Thank you for the directions."

Wang Ye looked down at Zhang Han's body on the floor, picked up the blood-drenched axe, and headed toward the fourth floor.

Inside the mall, the crowd—faces stiff, eyes vacant—automatically stepped back as Wang Ye walked forward.

In that moment.

Even the ghost seemed intimidated by the fierce aura Wang Ye exuded.

Meanwhile, Zhang Han's body, lying on the ground, suddenly snapped its eyes open, glaring venomously at Wang Ye's retreating back.

The stairwell was empty, silent except for the echo of Wang Ye's footsteps.

At the entrance to each floor's stairwell stood a single expressionless person, silently watching Wang Ye.

Wang Ye acted as if he didn't see them, carrying the dripping axe as he climbed toward the fourth floor.

Finally, as he saw the sign reading "4F" and the crowd blocking the exit, Wang Ye raised his axe, his face smeared with blood, his entire body steeped in killing intent.

"Are you sure you still want to block me?"

As Wang Ye's words fell, the crowd was silent for a few seconds, then began to back away, clearing the doorway.

Heh.

The axe traced a graceful arc through the air before landing on Wang Ye's shoulder.

"A ghost with a brain seems easier to deal with."

With that, Wang Ye swaggered out through the crowd of stiff corpses, completely ignoring the icy stares fixed on him.

After wandering aimlessly on the fourth floor for a long time without spotting the three Superhumans, Wang Ye frowned slightly.

"That ghost thing didn't trick me, did it?"

"Judging by how it acted just now, it shouldn't be that smart."

Wang Ye muttered under his breath, his eyes scanning the surroundings. But the corpses kept hovering nearby, using their numbers to block his view.

"This ghost is way too timid."

Wang Ye couldn't help grumbling. Annoyed, he glared at the corpses. "Scram, or I'll make you. Annoying as hell."

"Heh heh."

"Die."

"Die."

The stiff corpses all wore identical eerie grins, their hollow eyes fixed on Wang Ye as they rasped in unison.

One woman, straining too hard, had her eyeball pop out of its socket and land at Wang Ye's feet.

"Such a pain."

Wang Ye's brow furrowed. A fierce killing intent flashed in his eyes as he raised the fire axe and charged into the crowd.

Soon enough.

The scene from the first floor repeated itself.

These stiff corpses moved with agonizing slowness—to Wang Ye, they were like slicing through vegetables.

Slow?

No.

Wang Ye's instincts snapped to alert.

The Zhang Han the ghost had impersonated earlier moved just like a normal person.

A cold glint flickered in Wang Ye's eyes.

Among the stiff corpses, a young, seductive woman had quietly crept up behind him. Her pale hands rose, reaching for his head.

A chill crept up Wang Ye's neck. A wave of danger flooded through him.

Danger!

Wang Ye's eyes turned icy. Without hesitation, he spun around and swung the axe.

The woman's head flew off like a ball, bouncing and rolling across the floor.

"Almost."

"Almost."

Her hollow gaze locked onto Wang Ye, brimming with resentment, as she repeated the words over and over.

But the moment Wang Ye turned, an Old Man behind him suddenly shifted. His eyes turned sinister, his movements fluid. He silently raised his hands again, reaching for Wang Ye's head with a chilling touch.

"Again?!"

Relying on his sharp instincts, Wang Ye swung the axe once more, carving another graceful arc through the air.

Blood splattered.

Wang Ye's clothes were already soaked red without him noticing.

With only a few corpses left, Wang Ye stepped back, leaning against the wall, and let out a light breath.