Kindred spirits in low hills and foul waters

"Yang Jian! What are you waiting for?"

Fang Jing's voice was shrill and distorted, steeped in hysterical madness.

"He isn't human! He's a ghost! He's going to kill all of us to silence us!"

Yang Jian stood where he was, one hand in his pocket. The scarlet Ghost Eye on his forehead shifted slightly as he watched Fang Jing coldly.

"You're saying I ambushed you?"

Ye Zhen slowly turned around, his arrogant grin replaced by a terrifyingly dark expression.

He flicked his black robe. Although the golden ghost domain around him had receded, its oppressive aura still left the surrounding survivors struggling to breathe.

"I am Number One in Asia. None in this age can stand against me. Why would I need an ambush?"

Ye Zhen took a step forward. "You dare tarnish my reputation? I suspect the supernatural has corroded your mind. In that case, I shall rid the world of you, vile pest."

At the Paranormal Forum headquarters.

Lin Cheng sat in a leather swivel chair, watching Fang Jing's contorted face on the split-screen display. An amused smile curled his lips.

"The Human Skin Paper has started steering him."

He pressed his headset, his steady voice reaching Yang Jian's ear.

"Yang Jian, don't rush to take that paper back. Let them play with it first. If they die too quickly, it'll spoil the fun."

Seeing no response from Yang Jian, Fang Jing's terror finally erupted.

"Save me! Yang Jian! I'm your classmate! I led all these people out of there! You can't just let me die!"

He shouted as he frantically backed away, never noticing that Ye Zhen had already vanished from where he stood.

Ye Zhen appeared before Fang Jing, curled his fingers into a fist, and threw a plain, unadorned punch.

Bang!

Fang Jing's head exploded instantly.

Red and white matter splattered against the rusty iron gate at the school entrance with a grating, wet smack.

What remained of Fang Jing swayed twice before crashing to the ground.

On the Douluo Continent, the Sky Screen had captured every move Fang Jing had just made.

At Shrek Academy.

Yu Xiaogang stared fixedly at Fang Jing's fallen corpse, his breathing growing rapid.

He pointed at the piece of Sheepskin Paper that had slipped from Fang Jing's clothes in the image, his voice trembling with excitement.

"Look! That's a priceless opportunity! A divine artifact that can predict the future!"

"Fang Jing relied on it just now to foresee that Ye Zhen would kill him!"

"He only failed to escape because he was too weak! In a Soul Master's hands, that thing could reach its full potential!"

Tang San had already been awakened by Tang Hao. He had never expected his father to appear here.

Then he heard Yu Xiaogang's words and froze for a moment.

"A divine artifact that can foresee the future?!"

On the screen.

Wang Shanshan and the others went deathly pale at the sight, clamping their hands over their mouths to keep themselves from vomiting.

Zhang Wei wiped the bloody foam from his face. Far from being frightened, he gave Ye Zhen a thumbs-up.

"I've hated that bastard for ages! Well done, great hero! Back in the building, that scumbag shoved several classmates at the Ghost Slaves to save his own hide. He deserved to die!"

At the words "great hero," Ye Zhen's dark expression instantly brightened.

He flicked his black robe and proudly puffed out his chest. "You have a discerning eye, fellow cultivator. A true kindred spirit."

Zhang Wei continued, "What was that move called? Was it the legendary Serious Punch? Or the Pegasus Meteor Fist?"

Ye Zhen flicked his black robe, planted one hand on his hip, and raised his chin forty-five degrees. After a moment's thought, he spoke.

"That strike was merely a casual application of my Prison-Suppressing Technique."

"Prison-Suppressing? Great name! It practically oozes badassery!"

Zhang Wei slapped his thigh and sidled closer, his face full of admiration.

"Great hero, that black robe of yours moves without any wind. Could you be the legendary Number One Sword Immortal in Asia who lives in seclusion in Dachang City?"

Hearing "Number One in Asia" hit Ye Zhen right where he liked it. The corners of his mouth shot upward, almost beyond his control, but he waved a hand with feigned indifference.

"Sword Immortal is an exaggeration. I merely have a few more years under my belt and some modest achievements in the supernatural arts."

Listening beside them, Yang Jian's eye twitched. "That's enough, you two."

"Little Yang, that's where you're wrong."

Ye Zhen looked at Yang Jian solemnly. "This fellow cultivator has exceptional natural gifts. We powerful figures ought to offer him a helping hand."

Zhang Wei nodded repeatedly. "Exactly! The great hero's right! Yang Jian, you're just too uptight to show your true colors. Look at this great hero-his presence, his bearing! Now that's someone we should learn from!"

Then Zhang Wei turned back to Ye Zhen and lowered his voice.

"Great hero, where did you buy that black robe? Got a link?"

Ye Zhen nodded in wholehearted agreement and answered with the utmost seriousness. "This is my battle robe. Naturally, you cannot buy it anywhere ordinary. Your innate potential is extraordinary. Become my underling, and why shouldn't I give you one?"

While these two fellow lunatics found kindred spirits in low hills and foul waters.

Meanwhile, Ning Rongrong stood behind the crowd, quietly edging toward Fang Jing's corpse.

As a Soul Master, she sensed something different about the aura around Fang Jing.

When she instinctively looked at his corpse, she spotted the Sheepskin Paper!

Dark energy churned around her, and instinct told her that the Sheepskin Paper was no ordinary object.

The paper seemed to emit a faint, enticing aura, beckoning to her.

Ning Rongrong glanced at Ye Zhen, who was exchanging insights with Zhang Wei, then at the expressionless Yang Jian.

Taking advantage of Zhang Wei blocking their view, she instantly tucked the Sheepskin Paper into the Storage Soul Tool at her waist.

Yang Jian caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. He could have instantly retrieved the paper with his ghost domain, but remembering Lin Cheng's instructions, he merely withdrew his cold gaze.

What surprised him, however, was the Sheepskin Paper's sudden disappearance.

Through the Ghost Eye, it seemed to have been transported through space into the pouch at her waist.

On the Douluo Continent, at the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect.

"She got it! Rongrong got it!"

In his excitement, Ning Fengzhi shattered the teacup in his hand and sprang to his feet, his eyes blazing with fervor.

"That's a divine artifact that can predict the future! With it, not only will Rongrong survive, but our Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect will truly stand above the entire continent!"

Sword Douluo Chen Xin also smiled with satisfaction.

"That child Rongrong truly has a remarkable destiny."

"Snatching a prize right under those two monsters' noses-such courage! Just what I'd expect from someone I taught."

Bone Douluo Gu Rong, however, looked worried. "Fengzhi, that thing seems terribly sinister. Can Rongrong really control it?"

"What is there to fear?" Ning Fengzhi swept his sleeve.

"We have the strongest support martial soul on the entire continent. What evil energy could we possibly fail to suppress? This is our sect's great opportunity!"

At Spirit Hall, in the Papal Hall.

Bibi Dong stared at Ning Rongrong's storage pouch, undisguised killing intent filling her eyes.

"Predicting the future!"

She tightened her grip on her scepter until her knuckles turned blue.

"If I had that paper, nothing would stand in the way of my Rakshasa God Trial."

"Ning Fengzhi, you think your daughter is bringing home a great opportunity? No. That belongs to me."

She turned to the Red Bishop below and issued another order.

"Pass down my command. If Ning Rongrong successfully returns to the Douluo Continent, bring her to Spirit City at any cost!"

"Kill anyone who dares stand in your way!"