Chapter 81: The Legend of the Malevolent Wraith, The Beginning of the Plan

On the desolate street, Wang Hui and Jessm stood on opposite sides, separated by dozens of meters. Wang Hui placed his hand at his waist, his face unable to contain his excitement. The scene was exactly like a Western movie, and to his surprise, he was the leading man this time.

“Should we count down?” Wang Hui asked tentatively, his fingers twisting as if ready for battle at any moment.

Jessm didn’t reply—he simply nodded. Under his mask, his eyes grew more intense, for he could sense no aura whatsoever from his opponent.

“Three.”

The word had barely left his lips when Jessm also placed his hand at his waist, ready to draw his gun at any moment.

“Two.”

“One!”

Before Jessm could utter the final word, a giant red figure surged toward him at a speed almost invisible to the naked eye. Jessm reacted instantly—he fired his gun. At the moment the bullet left the barrel, a black, serpentine shadow appeared. It collided directly with the red silhouette; moments later, the red shadow pierced through the black, disappearing at Jessm’s side in an instant.

The next second, a bullet struck exactly where he stood, piercing Jessm’s forehead.

Such was the duel between gunmen—life and death decided in a blink.

Jessm fell to the ground, his mask shattered by the force of the bullet, exposing his grotesque face. The sight of that half-human, half-ghost visage left everyone unsettled.

Yet none of that mattered now. The title of Gun God had changed hands.

Just as the crowd prepared to congratulate Wang Hui, they realized he had vanished mysteriously from the spot. In the place where Wang Hui had stood, a pool of blood remained, seemingly forming a bizarre pattern.

The shape resembled a twisted human face, but there was something indescribably eerie about it, chilling those who looked upon it.

“Can anyone tell me what’s going on here?” someone muttered in confusion.

“My God, that Eastern kid not only shot fast, his speed was incredible. He escaped right under our noses!”

At that moment, a discordant voice rose.

“Has anyone heard of this pattern?”

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The voice was rich and magnetic, possessing a strange allure that compelled everyone to look toward its source.

The speaker was a man whose face was wrapped in a scarf, tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in simple cloth garments that made him stand out among the crowd.

“What is this pattern?” he asked.

Truth be told, none of them had cared about the pattern before, assuming it was merely Wang Hui’s mark. Yet after the stranger’s question, unease crept in.

Even if Wang Hui shot fast and moved quickly, there were so many people watching—surely someone should have seen him leave? Even if he vanished on the spot, someone should have witnessed it, right? Yet not a single person had noticed his disappearance.

He was the victor of today’s duel, the focus of all eyes. If one or two people missed it, that was understandable, but for everyone to miss it—something was amiss.

No, something was very wrong.

They scrutinized the pattern—a human face formed by blood, expressionless and cold, but on closer inspection, not even human. The longer they stared, the more unsettling it became, filling them with inexplicable anxiety until they looked away.

The oddly dressed man squatted next to the bloodstain, examining it for a long time before finally raising his head.

“Hmm. No mistake about it.”

“What do you mean, no mistake?” the crowd asked, bewildered.

“Actually, I am a demon hunter.”

The strange man pulled an aged, yellowed book from his coat. Clearly ancient, he slowly flipped through a few pages and showed them the contents.

On the left page was an illustration, perfectly matching the blood-red figure on the ground. The right page bore ancient script, indecipherable to anyone present.

“This demon is called the Malignant Wraith. Every few centuries, it appears somewhere in the world. It carries a curse—whenever it arrives at a place, it challenges the strongest person there. If the champion defeats it, the demon disappears, awaiting its next emergence. But if the champion fails, the demon’s power is fully unleashed, and it massacres everyone in that place, leaving not a soul alive.”

He turned to the crowd. “When I say ‘place,’ I may well mean an entire country.”

The crowd was stunned, staring blankly at the self-proclaimed demon hunter.

“How do we know you’re telling the truth? Why should we believe a stranger?”

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The demon hunter did not answer directly. Instead, he gestured to the blood-red pattern on the ground. “If my demon compendium is accurate, this pattern possesses a mysterious power. Anyone who comes into contact with it will fall under the demon’s control.”

He looked at the crowd again. “Who among you dares to try?”

Though they protested disbelief, in truth, they were intimidated by the strange man. No one dared attempt it.

The man who had earlier challenged the demon hunter stepped forward. “Hmph, I don’t believe it. It’s just a bloodstain—how could a demon control me?”

He looked down at the blood, masking his inner fear, crouched, and dipped his finger into it, then brought it to his mouth.

“See? I ate it and nothing—ugh! Ah! Ha!”

His words broke off suddenly. He began clutching his throat, face contorted in agony.

“Hrrrk—”

He let out painful whimpers, twisting violently, his skin slowly turning black, his eyes red as blood.

“Everyone stand back! He’s about to fall under the demon’s control!”

The demon hunter waved his hand, dispersing the crowd. He reopened the ancient book, mumbling incantations.

Moments later, the man caught fire and burned to ash, vanishing into the endless desert.

Now everyone was petrified, staring at the demon hunter in shock.

“What… what should we do now?”

The demon hunter waved dismissively. “Don’t worry. Until it kills the strongest among you, its power remains limited. I can still handle it.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than everyone turned to Jessm’s corpse in the distance, their faces on the verge of tears.

The demon hunter seemed to realize something. He pointed at Jessm’s body. “Don’t tell me—he was the strongest person here?”

The crowd nodded.

“I was just passing through, only a traveler. I know nothing of demons. Pretend I was never here and never said a word.”

With that, he turned briskly and walked away. Some tried to stop him, but he moved faster than any of them could run, soon disappearing into the vast desert.

It was over. Completely over.