Chapter 166: The Blood-Red World
Yang Haoran couldn't be sure if the old man before him was Du Xiao's master, but he was certain that the old man was a Spirit Medium, and a powerful one at that.
Compared to the old man, Yang Haoran's strength was significantly weaker. He knew this in his heart, fully aware that he was no match for the old man. Thus, his first thought went to the Death God Pendant that Deng Feng had bestowed upon them, the Night Watchers.
As long as he infused Spirit Power into it, the other Night Watchers, including Deng Feng, would be alerted to his danger. He was no match for the old man alone, but what if he formed a team, ganged up, and brought in a terrifyingly powerful Deng Feng?
In this predicament, he could only place his hope in the Death God Pendant.
Although his body was bound and immobile, infusing Spirit Power into the Death God Pendant didn't necessarily require his hands. As long as he released Spirit Power from his body and directed it into the Death God Pendant, he could achieve his goal.
First, send the signal, then find a way to stall this old man, and wait for reinforcements to arrive!
In that instant, Yang Haoran had made his decision.
In such a critical moment, he couldn't think of a better solution. He could only make this decision and adapt to the situation as it unfolded.
The idea was sound, but Yang Haoran was immediately stunned. He couldn't sense the Death God Pendant's presence, and this discovery made his expression change instantly.
At the same time, his vision went black, and a foul, fishy stench assaulted his nostrils. His entire head had been swallowed whole by the Evil Spirit.
He hadn't initially paid it any mind. After all, Evil Spirits couldn't directly harm his physical body. So, when the Evil Spirit opened its maw like a python and lunged to bite him, he not only ignored it but instead observed the old man before him.
However, the current situation was completely different from what he expected. As his vision went black, a sharp pain immediately flared in his neck. His skin was torn by sharp teeth, and he could even feel warm blood gushing from his throat.
"This. . . how is this possible?"
Yang Haoran was momentarily bewildered. Logically, this situation shouldn't have occurred, yet the reality was right before him: it was precisely because he had ignored the Evil Spirit that his entire head was swallowed by it!
"Was his understanding of Evil Spirits mistaken, or was this particular Evil Spirit different from ordinary ones—a mutated variant?"
As this thought arose in Yang Haoran's mind, his body began to struggle violently. Of course, he couldn't allow the opponent to swallow his body. However, his struggles not only proved futile but caused the Evil Spirit to bite even deeper. The excruciating pain from his neck grew more intense, and the Yin Qi wrapped around his body tightened further and further.
The searing pain stimulated his nerves. He felt his neck about to be bitten through by the Evil Spirit's sharp fangs. His breathing grew difficult, his mind reeled with dizziness, and his consciousness slowly began to blur.
It was at this moment that a refreshing coolness emanated from the Death God Seal on his brow. His gradually blurring consciousness instantly snapped back to clarity.
"No, this isn't real! I must have fallen into the Evil Spirit's illusion!"
The moment he regained full awareness, the sharp pain in his neck still persisted, and the Yin Qi wrapped around his body hadn't dissipated. It seemed that apart from his mind regaining clarity, nothing else had changed.
"Ghost Eye, open!"
He didn't bother with anything else, unleashing a roar and directly activating his Ghost Eye.
From the current situation, he believed he had most likely fallen into an illusion set up by the Evil Spirit.
At the same time, he hoped his conjecture was correct, because if everything happening right now was merely an illusion, then he felt there was still a sliver of hope. At the very least, he could attempt to break through the illusion. Regardless of success or failure, having a chance to try was far better than having no chance at all!
Conversely, if everything he was currently experiencing was real, and not an illusion at all, then the situation would be even more dire!
The reason was simple: at this moment, he was powerless to break free from the Yin Qi's restraints, nor could he escape from the Evil Spirit's maw. If all of this were real, then only death awaited him—a death he couldn't resist in the slightest!
Whether what he was experiencing was an illusion or not, neither was good news for Yang Haoran, but the former was still preferable to the latter.
As his Ghost Eye opened, the world before him remained pitch-black. The tearing pain in his neck, the Yin Qi entwined around his body—all still persisted. It seemed nothing had changed despite the activation of his Ghost Eye.
Yang Haoran didn't easily assume his judgment was wrong. Enduring the excruciating pain that tormented his nerves, he circulated the Spirit Power within his body and continuously poured it into his eyes.
As more and more Spirit Power flowed into his eyes, his dark eyes began to emit black Yin Qi, growing denser and denser, like two burning black flames atop his pupils.
The world before him began to change. Although he could still feel the Evil Spirit's biting at his neck and the Yin Qi wrapped around his body, a faint light gradually began to appear in this pitch-black world.
Like. . . like the dawn after a long night.
The appearance of light further confirmed Yang Haoran's suspicions. He didn't stop, continuing to pour Spirit Power into his eyes without cessation.
A stinging pain began in his eyes. Forcibly injecting a large amount of Spirit Power into them in such a short time was causing immense damage to Yang Haoran's eyes.
If his strength were greater, it wouldn't be an issue, as the Ghost Eye would also strengthen with increased power. But now, his actions were gradually exceeding the Ghost Eye's capacity, which was why he felt a sharp, stinging pain.
Yang Haoran naturally understood this, but he had no intention of stopping. Compared to his life, a mere stinging pain was utterly insignificant.
Two lines of bloody tears streamed from Yang Haoran's eyes. The massive influx of Spirit Power had completely exceeded the Ghost Eye's capacity. His Ghost Eye throbbed with a distending pain, as if it were about to explode.
The immense sacrifice yielded a remarkably clear effect. The excruciating pain from his neck vanished, and the Yin Qi that had been entwined around his body also disappeared, as if it had never been there at all.
The pitch-black world before him also transformed, becoming a hazy blood-red, distorted, and unreal.
All of this indicated that Yang Haoran's guess was correct; everything was an illusion, not a true reality. However, he couldn't feel happy in the slightest.
Although the world before him had changed, it hadn't returned to normal. This meant he was still trapped within an illusion.
If he continued to inject Spirit Power into his Ghost Eye, he might be able to break through the illusion, but if he did, his eyes would most likely be crippled, leaving him blind from that moment on!
Yang Haoran stopped injecting Spirit Power into his Ghost Eye. He scanned the hazy blood-red world before him, his expression extremely grim.
He knew that with his current strength, breaking through this illusion was impossible. It wasn't a matter of fighting for his life or not; it was that he simply couldn't do it, not even a slight chance of success existed.
His Ghost Eye only needed a tiny bit more Spirit Power to completely rupture. The Ghost Eye had reached its limit!
Furthermore, he wasn't so naive as to believe that a ruptured Ghost Eye would break the illusion. From the current situation, he was still very far from being able to break through it.
He didn't spare a thought for the bloody tears continuously streaming from his eyes. He looked at his hands; the box containing his talismans had long since disappeared.
He then plunged his hands into his pockets, only to find that not only was the Death God Pendant gone, but even his phone had vanished.
He had originally placed some hope on the talismans in the wooden box. Regardless of whether they could break the illusion, he could at least make an attempt. But the disappearance of the wooden box caused the last straw of hope in his heart to sink to the bottom of the water.
When people face adversity and see no hope at all, they usually fall into despair. Yang Haoran was a normal person, and naturally, no exception.
However, deep in Yang Haoran's bones, there had always been a ruthless streak—a tenacity that declared if he wasn't going to have an easy time, neither would his opponent!
It was simply for the sake of better adapting to and integrating into society that this ruthless streak had gradually been buried deep within his bones. Yet, no matter how much he disguised himself or how many masks he wore, this ruthless streak would forever exist within him, never disappearing with changes in his environment.
Knowing that he was likely doomed tonight, Yang Haoran instead calmed down. As he wiped the bloodstains from his face, his mind raced, thinking about what he could do to bite the opponent before he died, even if it was just spitting on them.
His grim expression gradually faded, replaced by the familiar amiable smile he usually wore. He roughly wiped the bloodstains from his face and stopped, originally wanting to find a tissue to wipe his hands, but found nothing in the hazy, blood-red surroundings.
Left with no choice, he wiped the fresh blood from his hands onto the clothes he was wearing, his movements light and meticulous.
After completing all of this, he nonchalantly slipped his hands into his pockets, gazed at the empty, blood-red space before him, and asked with a smile, "Old man, have you had enough fun?"
His voice echoed, but received no reply, as if a madman were talking to thin air.
"Heh heh, old man, you've been playing for so long, yet you haven't delivered a killing blow. Do you want to know something from me, or do you desire something?"
Yang Haoran's words weren't without reason. Although the time he had been trapped in the illusion wasn't long, it would have been too easy for the opponent to kill him. A casual slash to his neck would have been enough to take his life.
But the opponent hadn't done so, which indicated that they didn't want him dead yet.
Or perhaps, they didn't want him to die too easily; they still wanted to torment him.
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