Wuhen Hotel.
The white car pulled up outside the hotel. Kou Beiyue hurriedly got out, took out the key, and opened the rolling shutter.
Little Round, Zhang Yuanqing, and the others got out one after another, entered the hotel, and took the elevator to Room 404.
"Knock, knock!" Little Round knocked on the door and said softly, "Master Wuhen, we're back."
With that, she gripped the doorknob and twisted it with a click.
The scene before them changed. The carpeted corridor was replaced by cold black stone bricks, the ceiling became a caisson painted with gods and Buddhas, and the walls turned into pillars and lattice doors.
Including Zhang Yuanqing, everyone's first reaction was to look at the enormous Buddha statue that stood as tall as the caisson ceiling.
The Buddha gazed downward with lowered eyes, appearing compassionate yet radiating ferocity.
Same as always. Good, good. Zhang Yuanqing silently breathed a sigh of relief and looked at the others, only to find that they all wore similarly relieved expressions.
Clearly, every dungeon run for Master Wuhen, who could not commit slaughter, was a trial of life and death.
In the entire team, the person most likely to go mad was neither the temperamental Aunt Fang, the rebellious Tongtong, nor the battle-loving Lin Chong. It was Master Wuhen.
He held the highest rank and had accumulated the most madness. For the past twenty years, he had been walking a tightrope day and night.
If he ever lost control and went mad, he would be far more terrifying than the demigods of the Evil Profession faction. Those demigods never suppressed their evil desires and regularly vented their malice, making them comparatively stable.
"Master," Little Round bowed and said, "after you entered the dungeon, Dark Night Rose and the Southern Faction joined forces