Chapter 97: Chapter 97- Night Club

Inside the Camphrian city,

The highway stretched out under the darkening sky, the once steady hum of engines now replaced by an eerie silence.

Three black cars stood skewed across the lanes, their doors flung open, shattered glass littering the ground.

Nearby, a few bikes lay strewn on the asphalt, their tires still slowly spinning, as if the momentum of the sudden chaos hadn't quite stopped.

"Arrgh...." Bodies—large, muscular, bloodied—were scattered across the road, each one clad in tailored black suits.

They looked like hardened men, the kind whose knuckles were well acquainted with the sting of violence.

Their tattoos peeked out from ripped sleeves, telling silent stories of past battles and allegiances. Scars lined their faces and necks, remnants of years in a dangerous game where survival wasn't guaranteed.

Now, their blood pooled beneath them, seeping into the cracks of the road, dark and viscous against the cold grey concrete.

A truck lay wrecked a little further down, its back doors flung wide open, revealing a scene of havoc inside.

Chains and restraints had been ripped apart, the metal warped and broken as if something—or someone—had been violently torn from its confinement.

Another truck, identical in build but untouched, roared away in the distance, a fleeting silhouette against the twilight.

Amid the carnage, four figures stood tall, clad in long, black cloaks that billowed slightly in the wind.

Their faces were hidden beneath dark hoods, masks covering any trace of their identity.

"Haah....Haaah....kugh..."

Their presence was almost spectral, like shadows looming over the fallen who could only groan for a last time.

They held themselves with a calm that contrasted with the brutality before them, silent witnesses to the destruction they had just wrought.

The air around them was thick with the aftermath of battle—smoke curling from the vehicles, the faint metallic scent of blood lingering in the breeze.

Whatever had happened here had been swift and decisive. The men on the ground had clearly fought, but the cloaked figures hadn't come to lose. This was a battle of predators, and only one group had emerged victorious.

"Report to Queen, we have delivered the police chief as ordered," Not a word was spoken. The cloaked men exchanged brief glances, their movements smooth, deliberate.

They had come to take something—someone—and in their wake, they left behind a trail of broken bodies and wreckage.

The dying light of the evening sun cast long shadows that emphasized the devastation, while the wind carried the distant growl of a fleeing truck echoing down the desolate highway.

Tring~

Amid the chaos where it seemed nearly everyone had perished, a sound pierced the silence—a phone ringing, insistent and jarring. The ringtone continued, relentless, until a bloodied hand finally managed to pick up the call.

The screen was smeared with crimson, obscuring the caller ID, yet the call was answered nonetheless. A groan escaped the lips of a man who teetered on the brink of death. "F-f-for...give...u-us, S-sir," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

:: Hm, it seems they didn't realize you were from the Lin family. ::

A voice on the other end responded, firm and commanding, laden with an unmistakable sense of authority. The words dripped with dominance, leaving little doubt about who was in control of the situation.

"N..o th..ey knew," the man replied, his breathing ragged, eyelids growing heavy as blood loss took its toll. He recounted how those who had attacked him were aware of their identity as members of the Lin family. This knowledge made matters even more dire, as very few dared to confront the Lin family in the country or the city.

:: How many dozens of them were there? ::

The voice on the phone inquired, clearly wanting to know the number of men who dared to confront the Lin family, even if they were mere pawns, albeit holding outer disciple positions.

".... Four," the man replied, recalling how he had been caught off guard. He remembered how, without a second thought, a brute had ordered his truck to bulldoze through them, displaying a blatant disregard for their lives. Who would have anticipated that the truck would collide with one of the women dressed in a black cloak, a resolute assassin? The truck's metal crumpled as if it were mere paper.

:: ..... Cultivators? ::

On the other end of the line, the voice contemplated the possibility of four individuals managing to kill so many members of the Lin family. These men were trained in martial arts and armed with guns, yet they had been so thoroughly outmatched—only cultivators possessed the agility needed to dodge bullets with such ease.

"..yE—" Before he could finish his words, the last man exhaled his final breath, succumbing to death.

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In the main city,

As the night embraced the city, every street and corner sparkled with vibrant lights, casting a glow over the skyline.

Nightclubs pulsed with energy, and hotel rooms hummed with quiet conversations and not-so-quiet indulgences.

Couples strolled, their laughter mixing with the rumble of passing cars.

The roads were busy, luxury vehicles dashing through, each marking the wealth of their passengers.

A Lamborghini glided down the main boulevard, sleek and shiny under the neon signs. It rolled to a stop in front of a high-end nightclub, the door swinging open as a young man stepped out, his expression one of casual disinterest.

"This is party time," his sharp jawline and tailored clothes made him stand out, yet the way he carried himself—bored and self-assured—made it clear he was no stranger to the scene.

"Indeed, you look handsome, Ye Fan!" Behind him, a woman exited, her smile flirtatious, her body language almost too eager.

She leaned into him, giggling softly as he ran his hand down her side, fingers lingering on her clothes, groping at her ass and tracing his hands here and there, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Kyaa~ You are naughty, Ye Fan," Together, they sauntered toward the club's entrance, the sound of their shared laughter drifting above the music already spilling out from within.

The two bouncers at the door, dressed in their usual attire, gave a glance at the pair but remained stoic.

The line of people waiting for entry was long, but for the young master, the velvet rope parted without hesitation.

With a nod from the guards, the door swung open, revealing the throbbing heart of the night waiting inside.

"Hey, look over there."

As the occupants blended into the vibrant chaos of the nightclub, something unusual occurred. The headlights of an approaching vehicle drew attention—a modest taxi rolled to a stop right outside the glamorous entrance.

Immediately, eyes darted toward it, and a low murmur spread through the crowd like wildfire.

"Yo! Who's this poor guy?" a man sneered, his arm slung around a woman who giggled in response.

"A taxi outside a nightclub? Seriously?" another voice piped up, dripping with mockery.

A woman beside him, flicking her hair back, added, "I mean... what kind of person shows up here in a cab? Some dumbfuck?"

"Pffft, hahaha."

Laughter erupted, men and women alike joining in on the mockery. A group of girls, draped in expensive dresses, whispered among themselves, barely able to stifle their giggles.

The taxi driver, unaware of the growing spectacle around him, stepped out and looked around the scene.

He was out of place—his worn jacket and tired expression a stark contrast to the sharp suits and designer dresses around him.

"Pfft, poor guy, due to a dumb passenger, he got dragged here," his presence alone sent another ripple of laughter through the crowd.

"Does this guy even know where he is?" one man chuckled, lighting a cigarette as his eyes followed the taxi driver.

But then, the back door of the cab swung open, and in an instant, the tone shifted. Discover stories at m,v l'-NovelFire.net

".....this?" The crowd's laughter faltered.

A man emerged, casually stepping out of the vehicle, his movement slow and composed. His face, illuminated by the nearby lights, caught the attention of everyone within view.

His features were sharp, striking, with a face which would be considered really attractive even more than all the people present here.

In comparison to him, they all looked like squids.

A group of women, who had been at the forefront of the teasing, stopped mid-laugh. One of them, her breath catching in her throat, nudged her friend.

thump thump

"Wait... do you see him?" she whispered, her heart pounding unexpectedly.

The mocking remarks faded into whispers, their once scornful eyes now wide with surprise.

"Who is Ye Fan here?" Damien asked, unperturbed by the sudden shift in atmosphere as he casually scanned the room and began moving toward the entrance. The same people who had been laughing mere moments ago now found themselves transfixed by his presence.

"That guy," the driver said, nodding slightly and gesturing with his eyes toward a man standing near the entrance. Beside him was a woman, both of them seemingly focused on Damien and his companion. When Ye Fan noticed Damien's gaze directed at him, he instinctively narrowed his eyes in response.

For some reason, Ye Fan felt a strong aversion towards this man, clearly not liking his presence. Yet, he managed to keep his displeasure from showing on his face, aware that the fools around him might misinterpret it as jealousy.

"Let's go," Damien said, his voice nonchalant as he noticed Ye Fan's barely concealed disgust, which mirrored the sentiments of Edward—another person who clearly harbored animosity toward him. Without missing a beat, he moved toward the main gate, accompanied by the driver, who nodded to indicate he was following behind.

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