I am a full-level celestial master, you let me enter the strange talk of rules?

Giant, eerie human heads floated in the air, some crying, some laughing, some angry, and some sorrowful.

Their mouths open and close, making various sounds: screams, cries, curses, and whispers.

Those sounds didn't enter through the ears; they seeped into the skin, drilled into the bones, and exploded directly in the brain.

Every sound carried a psychological attack; chaotic, disorderly, and indiscriminate, it permeated every corner of this space.

The sole purpose of installing surveillance cameras in the monitoring room is to allow the chosen ones to break down the door.

If you don't install it, you'll definitely be tortured to death by these guys.

At this moment, Zhang Yangqing looked completely indifferent, because he knew that someone was about to be in trouble.

The six-eyed weasel bristled. It had been half asleep, lying on the ground in a daze.

The mental attacks indiscriminately covered every corner of this space, and naturally they also landed on it.

As a powerful and eerie spiritual beast, this is a blatant declaration of war!

Its six eyes snapped open, pupils standing upright, blood red.

Its fur stood on end, its tail was taut, its four legs pushed off the ground, its body arched, and it let out a low growl.

The roar wasn't loud, but it was extremely penetrating; it was also declaring war!

The six-eyed weasel's spiritual power surged out like a tide, colliding with the spiritual power of those strange human heads.

An invisible shockwave exploded in the air, and everyone felt headaches, dizziness, blurred vision, and ringing ears.

The red-haired psychic covered his head, veins bulging on his forehead.

He leaned against the wall, looking melancholy and strange, his face pale.

The little girl crouched down, covering her ears with her hands, but it was alright; the Six-Eyed Weasel's spiritual power protected her.

Zhang Yangqing neither covered his ears nor closed his eyes; his gaze remained fixed on the surveillance footage.

In the footage, the person wearing the monitor's uniform swayed slightly.

He raised his hand and covered his head, his expression showing that he never expected there to be a six-eyed weasel here.

He didn't have this information in his intelligence. He thought the monitoring room was still his home turf, Zhang Yangqing was still his prey, and he thought he had the victory in the bag.

But the appearance of the Six-Eyed Weasel disrupted everything.

As the Six-Eyed Weasel's attacks grew stronger, the monitoring room of the third faction turned around and ran towards the door.

He slammed the door open, ran out, and his footsteps echoed down the corridor, growing fainter and fainter.

Zhang Yangqing quickly chased after him. The corridor was long and the lights were dim.

He could clearly see the back of a young man with a small braid tied behind his head.

The man with the braid was spitting blood as he ran.

Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, falling to the ground, drop by drop, starkly visible on the gray-white floor.

He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and then spat out.

He truly hadn't expected the Six-Eyed Weasel's mental attack to be so powerful.

The man with the braid thought his mental strength was enough to fight anyone here, but the six-eyed weasel was not human!

I ran for a while, then another, made a few turns, and went down a few flights of stairs.

His breathing became heavier and heavier, his steps slower and slower, and he vomited more and more blood.

Finally, he stopped, his head against the wall, his hands braced against the wall, panting heavily.

The man with the braid had a soaked back; his clothes clung to his body, revealing the outline of his spine.

At that moment, a calm voice came from beside him: "I'm curious, where are you from?" The man with the braid turned his head sharply. Zhang Yangqing had been leaning against the wall beside him at some point, looking out the window at a 45-degree angle. The streetlights outside flickered with a dim yellow light, which fell on his face, creating an interplay of light and shadow.

His hands were in his pockets, and he looked relaxed, as if he were waiting for someone, not chasing after someone.

Zhang Yangqing just standing there already gave off a pretentious vibe.

The man with the braid looked at Zhang Yangqing, his pupils contracting.

This was the target he was hunting. He never underestimated his target, thinking that his plan could easily solve the problem.

Unexpectedly, his opponent was so ruthless, not only seeing through his plan but also using it to turn the tables on him.

The man with the braid gritted his teeth and prepared to keep running.

He changed direction, and just as he took a step, the red-haired psychic and the melancholy eer walked over from the other end of the corridor.

The red-haired psychic walked ahead, twirling the silver needle in his hand. The needle darted between his fingers so fast it was impossible to see.

A melancholy and eerie figure walked behind, his fingers pressed on the drawing paper, ready to summon the creatures in the painting to launch an attack at any moment.

The two men, one in front and one behind, blocked his escape route.

The man with the braid stopped. He was a master of mental attacks but not a strong physical body. He was injured and his mental energy was mostly depleted.

He couldn't beat Zhang Yangqing, he couldn't beat the red-haired psychic, and even the melancholic and eerie Hua Lang could give him a headache.

The scene before him was a dead end for the man with the braid.

He spat out a mouthful of blood, which splattered on the ground; it was red with black streaks.

The man with the braid stared at Zhang Yangqing and said through gritted teeth, "Hmph, you wait, next time someone comes, they won't be as weak as me! They'll avenge me!"

After saying that, the man with the braid suddenly shuddered.

Blood flowed from all seven orifices, along with black blood.

His body went limp, and he leaned against the wall, slowly sliding down.

His eyes were still open, his pupils were already dilated, and a cold, unwilling smile lingered on his lips.

A powerful expert from the third faction has fallen.

There was no grand battle, no back-and-forth duel, only a meticulously planned hunt and a prey that had fallen into the trap.

Outside the giant screen in China, comments kept scrolling by.

It's not that this guy is weak, it's that Zhang Tianshi is too strong.

On the big screens in other countries, this guy has killed quite a few people. Even some of the more powerful Chosen Ones, he can fight them to a standstill.

I'm curious, which world does the third faction come from? Are there other planets participating in the supernatural world?

If you put it that way, aren't the people in the third faction a bit terrifying? They also collect combat data on our Chosen Ones to formulate countermeasures.

In the world of ghost stories, Zhang Yangqing disposed of the man with the braid's corpse.

He had the melancholy eeriness seal the corpse inside the painting, and then brought it to the six-eyed weasel.

This guy must be completely destroyed, otherwise, some problems will arise.

His clothes, his weapons, and his personal belongings were all burned to ashes.

The existence of the man with the braid was erased, as if he had never been in the building, so that Zhang Yangqing could feel at ease.

The six-eyed weasel was enjoying its meal; it had eaten two meals that day.

The red-haired psychic watched the six-eyed weasel devour the corpse and couldn't help but sigh, "I didn't expect such a powerful guy to have infiltrated our ranks. To be honest, even if I was prepared, I wasn't confident I could have survived the mental attack he launched in the monitoring room just now!" (End of Chapter)