Lead-black clouds covered the sky, and dull thunder rumbled now and then like the pounding of a drum.
Fine rain fell beneath the dark sky, as delicate as willow fluff. A flash of white streaked across the heavens, and in that instant, countless strands of rain could be seen beneath the night sky, hanging down from the nine heavens like silver threads.
The drizzle seeped into a dilapidated alley, where muddy streams flowed through the gaps between the paving stones.
Zheng Zhan raised his right hand and aimed at the faintly lit entrance to the alley. A beam of searing red light shot from the white barrel in his hand.
The red light pierced the curtain of rain, vaporizing the drizzle in its path into a hazy mist.
Two tall men in raincoats had just appeared at the entrance. They were from the Mystic Underworld Sect, searching for their young master, but before they could react, the red light melted through their heads.
They seemed almost to have thrown themselves into its path. Two headless bodies thudded to the ground, splashing crimson water.
After taking care of the intruders, Zheng Zhan stood silently before the old wooden door in the alley, motionless.
A white, circular barrier around him kept out all the rain, leaving the paving stones beneath his feet completely dry.
The rain grew heavier, and the patter of drops grew louder, as if the world had been reduced to the crackling roar of wind and rain.
Yet, as a Titled Douluo, he could clearly hear the argument inside the house, muffled by the rain: a middle-aged woman and a young girl.
The woman's voice sounded much stronger than the last time he had heard it. She must have taken the Mystic Water Pill and recovered.
They were arguing