As Wu Heng spoke, the last wisp of black smoke belonging to the Demon Prince slowly dissipated from his fingertips and merged into his test tube. Expressionless, he flicked his hand as though he had merely swatted an annoying fly.
Yet Wu Heng's perception, far beyond that of ordinary people, functioned like a precise radar, clearly picking up an increasing number of "gazes" from every direction.
Those gazes were not human.
Some were cold and sinister, carrying the stench of sulfur and blood, like venomous snakes in the cracks of a sewer. They undoubtedly came from Hell.
Others were holy and ethereal, yet carried an unquestionable sense of judgment. Like invisible searchlights, they swept faintly down from above the clouds, church spires, and even certain devout passersby. This was Heaven's gaze.
Those eyes made no effort to conceal themselves. They might have believed that a mere human could never detect such distant surveillance.
Wu Heng's appearance was like a boulder suddenly thrown into a seemingly tranquil lake whose undercurrents ran deep. His act of forcibly extracting the Demon Prince's power had drawn the shared attention of the giant crocodiles beneath the lake and the birds of prey in the sky.
That attention was filled with curiosity, greed, wariness, and undisguised scrutiny and calculation.
The intense sensation of being watched came from everywhere, above and below, invasive as a disease clinging to the bone. Wu Heng did not care. He had anticipated it before acting; it was an inevitable price.
He understood perfectly well—and even looked forward to muddying these waters further.
The demon here had been dealt with. The three of them turned and entered the safe house they had rented temporarily.
Inside, Dean and Sam were nearly frantically writing at the table, rapidly flipping through ancient demon-hunting notebooks with