Shi Nian! Ning Rongrong's First Time!

The figure walked very slowly, each step landing as if treading on cotton—light and airy, yet impossible to look away from.

Lin Mo saw clearly.

A hunched frame, draped in a gray-white robe that dragged along the ground, stained with grime that could have been dust or something far worse. The face was withered like a mummy's, with high, protruding cheekbones and deep-set eye sockets containing two eyeballs that glowed with an eerie white light.

His right hand leaned on a bone staff, the head of which was embedded with a skull the size of a fist. In the eye sockets of that skull, green flames flickered and jumped as if they were alive.

Then, the spirit rings appeared.

Yellow, yellow, purple, black, black, black, black.

Seven spirit rings rose from beneath the hunched figure's feet, rhythmically pulsing around him. Two yellow, one purple, and four black—under the afternoon sun, they radiated a suffocating sense of oppression.

Ning Rongrong's face turned deathly pale in an instant.

"Se... seven spirit rings..." Her voice trembled. "He is a Spirit Saint... truly a Spirit Saint..."

Lin Mo said nothing. He pulled Ning Rongrong behind him, staring at the figure drawing ever closer, his palms slick with sweat.

The figure stopped about twenty meters away from them.

He raised his head, revealing a smile; his lips pulled back to show sparse, yellow teeth, and the white light in his eye sockets grew blindingly bright.

"Finally... found you."

The voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scraping against rust. It did not come from his mouth, but seemed to resonate directly inside their minds.

Ning Rongrong stiffened, her fingers gripping the corner of Lin Mo's clothes tightly.

The man's gaze swept over Lin Mo and landed on Ning Rongrong's face, lingering for two seconds. Then, his smile deepened.

"A little girl from the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect... Old man's luck is quite good."

He raised his bone staff, and the green flames on its head danced more violently.

"This world is very fresh. Everywhere I look, there are scents I've never encountered before." He took a deep breath, as if savoring something. "However, it is too noisy. Those metal boxes, those glowing signs, and those ants wearing strange clothes... all too noisy."

His gaze fell upon Ning Rongrong once more.

"You are different. Your scent is very familiar to this old man. The taste of the Douluo Continent."

Ning Rongrong bit her lip, remaining silent. But the knuckles of the hand clutching Lin Mo's clothes had already turned white.

Lin Mo suddenly spoke: "You are Shi Nian."

The man's gaze shifted to him, the white light in his sockets flickering.

"You know this old man?"

"The system told me."

"System?" Shi Nian frowned, clearly not understanding the meaning of the word. But he quickly dismissed it. "It matters not. This old man only cares about that little girl. Her soul should be quite delicious."

He raised his bone staff, and the green flames on the head surged violently.

Ning Rongrong instinctively took a step back, but Lin Mo did not move.

He stared at Shi Nian, saying word by word: "If you want to kill her, you must go through me first."

Shi Nian paused, then laughed.

The laughter came from all directions, sharp and piercing, like countless birds screaming in unison.

"You?" He looked Lin Mo up and down. "An ant without even a shred of spirit power?"

He raised his hand and gave a light flick.

An invisible force slammed toward Lin Mo. Lin Mo had been prepared and dodged to the side, but the force seemed to have eyes; it curved in mid-air and struck him hard in the chest.

His entire body flew backward, crashing into a pile of scrap, sending broken bricks clattering down.

"Lin Mo!" Ning Rongrong screamed, wanting to run over, but her legs felt rooted to the ground, unable to move.

Shi Nian looked at her, his smile widening.

"Little girl, don't be impatient. Once this old man finishes off this ant, I will come to cherish you properly."

He raised his bone staff again.

Just then, Lin Mo crawled out from the pile of scrap.

Blood spilled from the corner of his mouth, and his chest burned with searing pain, but his eyes remained unchanged. He stared at Shi Nian, slowly wiped the blood from his mouth, and said:

"Is that all you've got?"

Shi Nian's smile stiffened for a moment.

Then he narrowed his eyes, the white light in his sockets turning dangerous.

"Interesting."

This time, he raised both hands, and the green flames on the bone staff transformed into countless ghastly white human faces, howling as they lunged toward Lin Mo.

Lin Mo did not dodge this time, nor could he. The faces were too fast, and in the blink of an eye, they engulfed him.

But in the second before he was swallowed, he shouted to Ning Rongrong:

"Run!"

Ning Rongrong finally moved.

She turned and ran, but stopped after a few steps, looking back at the pale, ghastly faces. Those faces were swarming around Lin Mo, tearing at him frantically. She could vaguely see Lin Mo struggling within the mass, his body covered in blood.

She wanted to go back.

But her legs felt as if they were filled with lead.

Shi Nian's voice drifted from behind her: "Run, keep running. The further you run, the deeper your fear will grow. Once this old man finishes him off, I'll come after you. I quite enjoy this game."

Ning Rongrong gritted her teeth and turned to run again.

She ran past an abandoned excavator, past piles of scrap, and into a half-demolished building. She hid in a corner, covering her mouth with both hands, not daring to make a sound.

Her heart was beating so hard it felt like it would leap out of her throat.

Her ears were filled with the sound of her own breathing, heavy and rapid.

She remembered the last look Lin Mo gave her.

That gaze seemed to be saying: Live.

Tears suddenly welled up.

She bit down hard on the back of her hand to keep from sobbing aloud.

Just then, a loud boom erupted from outside.

Followed by Shi Nian's exclamation: "What?!"

Ning Rongrong jerked her head up.

She looked out through a window of the ruined building and saw the mass of pale faces explode. Lin Mo stood in the center, drenched in blood, but his right eye was glowing with an eerie purple light.

That purple light spread from his right eye like flames, covering his entire body. Every face touched by the purple light melted away like snow, emitting shrill, piercing screams.

Shi Nian's expression shifted.

"You... what are you?"

Lin Mo did not answer. He looked down at his hands, then at Shi Nian, and suddenly smiled.

That smile was completely different from his usual self.

It was cold.

Shi Nian instinctively took half a step back, but immediately realized what he was doing and grew furious from embarrassment: "Playing god! I'd like to see how long you can keep this up!"

He raised his bone staff, and his seventh spirit ring suddenly lit up—that black spirit ring.

Ning Rongrong's pupils constricted.

A Seventh Spirit Skill?

He was going to use his Seventh Spirit Skill?

She wanted to scream "Watch out," but the sound stuck in her throat, unable to come out.

Shi Nian's body began to distort. He transformed into a massive, pale-white ghostly shadow, three stories tall, opening a gaping maw. Countless faces poured out from within, forming a tornado that swept toward Lin Mo.

Lin Mo stood his ground, unmoving.

The tornado swallowed him whole.

Ning Rongrong watched his figure vanish into the sea of faces, her heart feeling as if it were being gripped by a vice.

She wanted to rush out.

But her legs still wouldn't move.

She could only watch helplessly as the tornado spun frantically, listening to the sounds of tearing, the screaming, and the suppressed grunts of pain coming from within.

Her tears flowed even harder.

She suddenly remembered last night, the way Lin Mo had tucked the blanket around her. It was so light, so gentle, as if he were afraid of waking her.

She remembered the calm look in his eyes when he said "I will."

She remembered the lack of hesitation in his tone when he said, "If I run, I'll take you with me."

Now, he was in there fighting for his life.

And she was hiding here, not even daring to move.

"Useless..."

She heard her own voice, hoarse and trembling.

"Ning Rongrong, you are so useless..."

She raised her hand and slapped herself hard across the face.

It hurt.

But it also brought a moment of clarity.

She took a deep breath and, leaning against the wall, slowly stood up. Her legs were still shaking, but she gritted her teeth and walked out, step by step.

When she reached the entrance of the ruined building, she saw it.

The pale white tornado was still spinning, but its speed had slowed.

Then, a beam of purple light shot out from within.

Followed immediately by a second, then a third.

More and more followed.

The tornado began to collapse, and those human faces let out desperate screams before dissolving into dissipating black smoke.

Shi Nian's pale white ghost image appeared, his face filled with disbelief.

"How is it possible... You, a mere ant... How is it possible..."

Lin Mo stood before him.

He was covered in blood, his clothes mostly shredded, revealing skin covered in wounds. But his right eye shone with a blinding intensity, the purple light dancing like flames.

He stared at Shi Nian, enunciating each word:

"You just said, who is the ant?"

Shi Nian's ghost image shuddered.

He tried to retreat, but his body felt as if it had been frozen in place.

Lin Mo raised his right hand.

The purple light surged from his right eye into his right arm, spreading down to his palm, where it finally condensed into a blade of purple light.

He walked toward Shi Nian.

One step.

Two steps.

Shi Nian's ghost image began to crumble; he struggled desperately, trying to break free from the invisible restraint.

"No... Impossible! This Old Man is a Soul Saint! A Level 76 Soul Saint! How could you possibly—"

The voice came to an abrupt halt.

The purple light blade pierced through his chest.

Shi Nian's eyes widened as he looked down at the purple light in his chest, then back up at Lin Mo. His lips moved, wanting to say something, but he only spat out a mouthful of black blood.

Then, his body began to dissipate.

Starting from his feet, he turned bit by bit into black specks of light, drifting away into the air. The bone staff fell to the ground, the green flame at its head extinguished, leaving behind only a dull skull.

Finally, Shi Nian vanished completely.

Only the system's voice echoed in Lin Mo's mind:

[Congratulations to the Host for killing Shi Nian (Level 76 Soul Saint)]
[Obtained World Origin Points ×500]
[Obtained Soul Bone: Illusion Wisdom Skull (Head Soul Bone, Skills: Illusion Resistance + Spiritual Power Amplification)]
[Dual World Collision delayed by 76 days, remaining time: 441 days]

Lin Mo stood where he was, gasping for air.

The purple light in his right eye slowly faded, and his strength felt as if it had been drained away. He stumbled, dropping to one knee and bracing himself against the ground to keep from collapsing.

Ning Rongrong ran over, wanting to help him up, but she pulled her hand back halfway, afraid of touching his wounds.

"Are... are you okay?"

Lin Mo looked up at her and smiled: "I'm fine."

Ning Rongrong looked at his blood-covered face, her lips trembling, and suddenly she crouched down and pulled him into an embrace.

She held him very tightly.

Lin Mo was stunned.

He could feel her trembling, and warm liquid dripping onto his shoulder.

She was crying.

There was no sound, but her shoulders were heaving.

Lin Mo hesitated for a moment, then raised his hand and gently patted her back.

"It's over now."

Ning Rongrong didn't speak; she just held him, clutching him even tighter.

In the distance, the setting sun was sinking. Golden light shone upon the ruins, casting long shadows.

The wind had stopped.

Everything had fallen quiet.

Only the small figure in his arms was still trembling slightly.

It was unknown how much time had passed before Ning Rongrong finally let go.

She kept her head lowered, wiping her tears with the back of her hand, not wanting Lin Mo to see her crying. But the more she wiped, the more tears fell, until she eventually gave up and just stood there with her head bowed.

Lin Mo propped himself up off the ground; his chest still ached, but it was much better than before.

He picked up the bone staff Shi Nian had left behind—no, it was that skull. The staff had dissipated, leaving only the fist-sized skull lying on the ground, dull and lusterless.

He picked it up, examined it, and handed it to Ning Rongrong.

Ning Rongrong was stunned. "For me?"

"The system says this is a spirit bone. I have no use for it."

Ning Rongrong took the skull, and the moment she touched it, it turned into specks of light and merged into the center of her forehead.

She froze for a moment, then closed her eyes. After a few seconds, she opened them, looking at Lin Mo with a complex expression.

"It's the Illusion Wisdom Skull," she whispered. "It can resist illusions and enhance mental power."

Lin Mo nodded. "That's good."

Ning Rongrong looked at him and suddenly asked, "That purple light from before... what was it?"

Lin Mo thought for a moment. "Given by the system. It might be a life-saving item."

"Then how did you know you could use it?"

"I didn't," Lin Mo said. "But if I hadn't used it, I would have died."

Ning Rongrong fell silent.

After a long while, she said softly:

"You... you really are..."

She didn't finish.

But Lin Mo saw that her eyes had turned red again.

He shifted his gaze toward the setting sun in the distance.

"Let's go, let's head back."

Ning Rongrong nodded, staying by his side as they walked slowly back.

After a few steps, she suddenly reached out and grabbed his sleeve.

Lin Mo looked down at her.

She didn't look up, just held onto his sleeve and whispered:

"Just now... thank you."

Lin Mo looked at her flushed earlobes, and the corners of his mouth curled up slightly.

"Mm."

The two walked side by side into the sunset.

The ruins behind them were as quiet as if nothing had ever happened.

But Lin Mo knew this was only the beginning.

There were four hundred and forty-one days left.

There were more enemies to come.

And there were... things he did not yet know.

He glanced down at his right sleeve; Ning Rongrong was still holding on, not letting go.

Forget it.

Better to get back first.