Chapter Seventeen: Unraveling the Knot

Hmm? Another hug? What’s going on these past few days? A few days ago, Zhang Yuan asked me to hug her, and today Lingzi requested the same—have they started treating me like a human pillow? Wei Yang’s refusal didn’t surprise Carlos; after all, there were still men in this world who wouldn’t go to such places. As for the medicinal wine and tea in the space, Liu Xiaoyu still preferred not to draw too much attention or invite unnecessary trouble, so he didn’t give any out. His Uncle Gensheng agreed with this: don’t flaunt your wealth, don’t display your treasures—an old lesson everyone from the older generation knew well.

In truth, the Lord of Hell, Bael, seemed to have a bottomless stomach. Even after devouring mountains of meat, he showed no sign of being full, not even a burp, and still seemed ravenous. So this brutal Lord of Hell reached his massive hand towards the Dark Judgment Temple of Melos.

His gang, the Qilin Society, was merely a local syndicate and naturally couldn’t compare to the likes of the British Yi Society or the Yamaguchi-gumi in their understanding of Ye Wudao’s true identity over these three years. If they had known, Li Lingfeng would never have underestimated Ye Wudao—the infamous Shadow Cold Edge, ranked high on the global assassin blacklist.

He turned his gaze from the self-proclaimed Dark One to the others. When these people heard the Dark One’s shouting, their faces turned ashen. Only then did they recall that it was the sound of the howl that had drawn them