Apocalypse Forecast

Chapter 213 The Local Gangs Are Polite_1


"Am I beautiful?"

Just as the Sublimator was taken aback, she took another step forward and asked again.

A sinister aura rose, spreading faintly, obscuring the light of the setting sun.

She took yet another step forward, her voice becoming sharp. "Am I beautiful!"

"What the hell is this thing!"

The Sublimator, unable to bear the eerie atmosphere any longer, clenched his Short Knife and charged forward. Then he saw... the woman pulling down the mask covering her face.

Immediately after, a hair-raising chewing sound came from the alley.

At this very moment, as the last rays of dusk faded, strange shadows emerged from the darkness. Demons, famished, roamed in search of prey.

They were already impatient.

Amidst countless sharp wails, the darkness outside this narrow Hell began to boil and rise, threatening to engulf everything.

The omen had already been revealed.

The long night was upon us.

It took a long, long time before Huai Shi recovered from his initial shock.

He repeatedly confirmed the shattered billboard atop the distant building.

Under the dim light, the broken billboard displayed a smiling face, now fragmented and distorted into a sinister, unsettling sneer.

Beside the smile, remnants of lettering proclaimed a message to newcomers.

Huai Shi squinted, struggling to decipher the characters: "Welcome to To—whatYO?"

A part was missing in the middle, making it impossible to discern the location.

But by now, how could Huai Shi not recognize this Hell? This was clearly Xiematai, the ancient city that had sunk in a disaster hundreds of years ago, lost beyond the borders!

But how did Yingzhou Ancient City end up like this?

Moreover, wasn't it currently contested in the Open Ocean between the Dongxia Genealogy and Yingzhou Phylogeny?

How did it become the stage for the rookie competition?

Or perhaps...

Huai Shi slowly raised his head.

In the last rays of the setting sun, he narrowed his eyes, gazing at the empty darkness above. For an instant, as if an illusion, he saw something.

Within the endlessly rising darkness, that ghastly dark tide, a vague outline emerged from the Sky Dome above—a single wing.

A wing that eclipsed the sky, casting the entire city into shadow!

This place was already under the cover of Xuan Niao's wings!

Amidst his shock, a realization flashed through Huai Shi's mind.

The Dongxia Genealogy intends to seize Xiematai during the rookie competition!

But... what does this have to do with me, Huaihai Road Little Peppa?

By the time Huai Shi finally grasped the situation and dismissed the thought, he realized he had wandered off aimlessly.

He found himself standing before the gate of a courtyard that exuded an ancient charm.

As night gradually fell, two lights shone from the stone lantern by the gate. Yet, strangely, their glow failed to illuminate the surroundings.

Instead, they only accentuated the courtyard's desolation, deepening the eerie atmosphere.

As withered leaves drifted onto the dry landscape garden of black stones and white sand, a clear, sorrowful voice emerged from the pavilion within. It came from behind paper partitions that resembled hanging scrolls.

It was the pipa.

In the lamplight, a woman in exquisite robes cast a stark silhouette upon the paper screen. Head bowed, she strummed her pipa, her raspy, mournful song carried by the melody.

"Sorrow meets with bitter rain, the world sighs in vain... The splendor of spring isn't savored, oh why are the blossoms so faded... I mourn their demise... I mourn their demise..."

The melancholic echoes, accompanied by the piercing notes of the pipa, drifted far into the distance.

Long after the song had faded, Huai Shi raised his hands and applauded with genuine admiration. "Beautifully sung! The rhythm of your breath and voice is incredible!"

Behind the partition, the woman's silhouette paused for a moment, as if lifting her head.

"One small issue: the beat at the end was a tad rushed." Huai Shi clapped his hands to demonstrate. "Look, it should go like this... TAP, TAP-TAP, TAP... Stretch out the resonance a bit longer. Trust me, I'm right."

The woman's silhouette stilled for a moment. Then, her fingers danced over the pipa strings, following his suggestion. The result was indeed a notch better.

She seemed pleasantly surprised.

She put down the pipa and, behind the thick paper partition, bowed in thanks to Huai Shi.

Then, lifting a fair wrist from within her voluminous sleeve, she gestured behind Huai Shi.

Huai Shi turned and saw the alley behind him.

"This way?" He paused, then waved his thanks. "Thanks!"

Huai Shi genuinely smiled.

Perhaps this is what they mean: a little love from everyone makes the world a better place.

The local gangs here are so polite!

He wasn't sure if they were pleasant to talk to, but they all seemed talented. He was starting to like this place.

Before he left, Huai Shi turned back and shouted towards the entrance, "You should be careful of those outsiders; they can be quite rough. It's probably best for girls to stay hidden."

The pipa's notes faltered, then played a desolate farewell melody.

The guest was seen off.

Unsure if he'd said anything wrong, Huai Shi shrugged and followed the path she had indicated.

At the end of the street, shrouded in gloom, several figures were fixated on their small phone screens, intently watching the image of a figure disappearing into an alley.

The intuition of some Stigma bearers is exceptionally acute; a direct, malicious gaze can trigger their awareness. However, this precognitive alert can be nullified by viewing them through specialized mirrors or electronic devices.

"Old Five, are you sure?" the lead Sublimator asked in a low voice.

"It's him! I saw him clearly through the binoculars!" the gaunt man known as Old Five replied. "That guy has a piece of Dark Gold equipment! He's wounded. If we could take him down..."

The sentence went unfinished, but the intent was clear.

The Sublimators exchanged glances, their breathing growing heavy. Then, they picked up a huge cardboard box nearby and covered themselves with it.

The men crouched under the cardboard box, and their auras strangely began to fade.

That cardboard box, whatever treasure chest it might have come from, didn't look out of place despite its abrupt placement by the roadside. Instead, it naturally blended into the scenery.

Even when they moved, they did so without a sound, blending into the night.

Following Huai Shi's trail, they pursued him, guided by the distant sound of the pipa.

Then, in the labyrinthine alleys, they lost him.

For some reason, though the alley should have been straight, they found themselves inexplicably looping back to their starting point several times.

Back to the same pipa melody.

"Something's wrong," the lead Sublimator muttered, crouching under the box. His expression turned fierce as he drew his weapon. "There's something strange here. Be on guard. We might have attracted something's attention."

The pipa's melody grew more desolate and chilling, sending shivers down their spines.

It seeped into them, from without to within, chilling them to the core and making them shudder uncontrollably.

"That woman..." The leader's eyes turned icy. "She must be some kind of fiend from this Hell."

"Never mind what it is. Let's go check it out."

Another Sublimator crawled out from under the box, pistol in hand. A sacred glow emanated from his hand, dispelling the surrounding cold, demonic aura, as he strode directly towards the courtyard.

They'd encountered such entities on the Border before. No matter how bizarre or terrifying they appeared, as long as their true form was destroyed...

He flung aside the paper screen and froze.

Behind the layers of paper screens, only a single, dim oil lamp flickered forlornly. Beyond them, the space was empty, devoid of any trace of her.

In the silence, the small oil lamp extinguished itself.

In that instant, the paper screens slid shut again. Darkness, like a tide, engulfed him.

Only a scream, as if a Soul was shattering in terror, echoed from within before being abruptly silenced. Then, nothing.

The leader, stunned, bolted out from under the box without thinking. "Old Five, we need to save him!"

But Old Five, somehow, had also vanished.

In the empty courtyard, he was left alone.

The door closed behind him.

Not long after, the gate to the courtyard opened again. The courtyard within was still scattered with fallen leaves.

A single lamp, like a flickering bean, illuminated the silhouette of a Beauty, gently playing the pipa.

"The brocade curtains did not recognize the dawn, an everlasting sorrow no dream can contain..."

The desolate and mournful song drifted far away.

No response came.

"It's almost time." Li Jian Amber looked up, her gaze fixed on the dark Sky Dome. Though starless, a faint lunar corona inexplicably materialized within the blackness.

It was like... an eye gazing down upon the darkened world, spreading cold and tyranny.

At this moment, walking upon this land, none could perceive the terror brewing in the darkness—a maelstrom capable of engulfing everything—more keenly than she.

She could sense the malice surging in the shadows, an ever-present force. Eventually, it coalesced into a peculiar melody, like countless children humming in unison from a great distance, their innocent tones imbued with a horrifying chill.

Even she, a Prajna Stigma of the transformant type, struggled to resist the malice in those sounds.

Soon, perhaps, the demonic tide of the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons would arrive.

Dashing onward, she suddenly stopped at the gate of a temple.

From within the dilapidated temple, a hint of light faintly emerged.

Sensing her arrival, the temple door cracked open slightly, revealing a dim light that offered no sense of security.

Amber took a deep breath, hand on the hilt of her blade, and walked into the temple.

She stopped before the Buddha hall, looked up at the decrepit statue, and raised her hand, displaying the string of crimson Agate Rosary on her wrist.

"Li Jian Amber, the last of The Satomi clan, seeks shelter for the night. I humbly implore the Buddha for his Mercy."

Within the deathly silence, there was no response.

Li Jian Amber called out again, repeating her plea.

Until, from the darkness, a blank face emerged. It stared directly at the teenage girl, its gaze finally settling on the Agate Rosary on her wrist.

"Follow me," the face said, its voice flat and devoid of inflection. It then turned, its long, serpentine body slithering as it led her into the darkness.

The temple door closed.

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