Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

Chu Zihang suddenly looked up, his golden eyes flashing, and gripped the Murasame tightly. Gao Mi and Wan Boqian also instantly assumed a fighting stance, warily looking towards the source of the sound.

Zhao Menghua was so startled that she almost slipped off her seat. The professor was also startled and looked up blankly.

Amidst the tense gazes of the crowd, a figure hopped out of the shadows.

The figure was not tall, even somewhat slender, and wore an extremely brightly colored, chaotically patchwork clown costume. On his face was a ceramic clown mask with an exaggerated bright red smile and blue teardrops dripping from the corners of his eyes.

The mask completely covered the person's face, leaving only the space for their eyes. However, the area behind the mask was not completely empty; instead, it contained two bottomless dark spaces.

It was also playing with a few colorful balls in its hand, tossing and catching them nimbly, its movements frivolous and eerie.

"Hehe," a distorted, indistinct laugh, emanating from beneath the mask, echoed through the silent carriage, sending chills down one's spine.

"Who are you?!" Gao Mi shouted sharply, quietly gathering the power of words in her hand.

Wan Boqian was also ready for battle, her face pale.

The clown seemed not to have heard his question at all. It tilted its head, the frozen smile on its mask facing the trembling Zhao Menghua, and stopped tossing and catching the ball.

"My dear audience member, you seem quite unhappy," the clown's voice rose and fell, carrying an exaggerated theatrical tone, "Let me, the clown, perform a magic trick for you! I'll turn your unhappiness into eternal peace! Hehehe!"

It reached out to Zhao Menghua, its arm seemingly able to extend infinitely, instantly traversing the distance of the carriage, its pale fingers, painted with greasepaint, reaching for Zhao Menghua's head.

"No! No!" Zhao Menghua screamed like a pig being slaughtered, scrambling and rolling to get away.

Chu Zihang suddenly sprang into action, drawing his Murasame sword and slashing at the clown's outstretched arm with scorching flames.

But just as Murasame was about to strike, the clown's arm twisted and slid away at an incredible angle, like boneless clay, while his other hand flicked away.

"Clap."

A small, colorful ball shot towards Chu Zihang like a bullet, forcing him to parry with his sword.

"boom!"

The small ball exploded, turning into a cloud of colorful, pungent smoke that temporarily obscured everyone's view.

"Hehe! You guessed wrong!" the clown's cheerful voice rang out.

In that split second, the pale hand was already pressed on Zhao Menghua's head.

Zhao Menghua's screams abruptly ceased. His body convulsed violently, his eyes rolled back wildly, and white foam gushed from his mouth. His expression froze on extreme fear and pain, then began to contort and distort.

In his hallucination, his life flashed by like a revolving lantern, finally settling on the rooftop of Shilan Middle School, where he confessed his love to Chen Wenwen in a triumphant manner, while in the corner stood that loser, Lu Mingfei.

In his hallucination, Lu Mingfei raised his head, his face no longer showing humility and envy, but a mocking and sarcastic smile. His mouth opened and closed, silently saying, "Zhao Menghua, clown, you are the real clown."

"No, I'm not, I'm not!" Zhao Menghua cried out in a final, hoarse voice amidst extreme fear and resentment.

In reality, his face and features began to distort like a melting wax figure, transforming into the image of his deepest fears and resentments. Eventually, he even resembled the clown mask, grinning with a stiff and painful "smile."

"Crack!"

A soft, crisp sound. Zhao Menghua's neck was twisted at an unsettling angle by an invisible force, and the light of life vanished completely from his face, which was frozen in a clown-like smile. He slumped down like a lump of mud, dead.

His death was both extremely comical and extremely terrifying.

"Next!" the clown said cheerfully, turning his mask toward the professor who had been staring blankly into space.

The professor finally realized the deadly danger. A final will to survive erupted in his cloudy eyes. He screamed, and a faint glow of his spiritual power burst forth as he tried to resist.

But the clown simply extended a finger and gently touched him.

"Shh, shh, be quiet, naughty children will be punished!"

The professor's magical light vanished instantly, and he was as if he had been grabbed by an invisible hand and slammed against the carriage wall.

"Smack!"

With a muffled thud, blood and fragments of internal organs spurted from his distorted mouth and nose, drawing an abstract, bloody pattern on the eerie green car wall.

The professor's body slumped to the ground, his eyes still filled with extreme terror and bewilderment.

In the blink of an eye, the two were dead. The methods were bizarre and cruel, like a scene from a nightmare.

Gao Mi and Wan Boqian were chilled to the bone, cold sweat pouring down their backs. This wasn't a battle at all; it was a one-sided, toy-like massacre!

Chu Zihang dispersed the colorful mist before his eyes and saw the miserable state of the two people. A cold rage ignited in his eyes, and the Monarch Flame on the Village Rain rose again. He locked onto the clown and was about to pounce on him with all his might.

"Don't get excited, you top students~", the clown suddenly turned to Gao Mi and Wan Boqian, his tone becoming light and cheerful, "You two, tsk tsk tsk, not fun, and you look pretty tired too. Why don't you go home and get some sleep?"

As it spoke, it made a gesture with both hands in front of its body.

Stab it!

The air was torn apart like cloth! A portal with unstable colored light flickering at its edges appeared behind Gao Mi and Wan Boqian.

On the other side of the door lay the nighttime streetscape of Beijing. The traffic lights, the familiar high-rises—this was not Nibelungen.

"What?!" Gao Mi and Wan Boqian were completely dumbfounded.

"Go!" the clown chuckled, then kicked Gao Mi and Wan Boqian in the buttocks with a speed so fast it was almost invisible.

Before the two could react, they felt an irresistible force and were kicked directly into the portal with screams.

"Chu Zihang!" Gao Mi only had time to call out this name before her figure disappeared in the light.

The portal closed instantly, as if it had never existed.

Inside the carriage, only Chu Zihang and Xia Mi, the murderer wearing a bizarre clown mask, remained.

Chu Zihang did not attack rashly. He simply stared intently at his opponent. Murasame pointed diagonally at the ground, and the King's Flame burned quietly on the blade, casting flickering light and shadow on his profile. His heart was pounding, not entirely out of fear, but because the other man gave him an inexplicable sense of familiarity.

This figure, this occasional glimpse of his voice.

"Who exactly are you?" Chu Zihang asked slowly. It couldn't be you, right? "You're not Deadpool, nor are you one of the dealers here."

"Oops, I've been found out!" The clown exaggeratedly clutched his chest, feigning injury, but a complex emotion flickered behind his dark eyes. "Who I am doesn't matter~ What matters is, top student, the game is over. You're free! Now, turn around, get off this train, walk along the tracks, you'll find an exit, get out and have a good sleep, just treat this all as a nightmare, forget about it~"

The clown's tone became somewhat nonchalant, with a hint of admonition.

"Leave?" Chu Zihang remained unmoved. "My companions are still here. Lu Mingfei, Frilian, Fingel, and the two you just killed. I need an explanation."

"Companions? Confessions?" The clown chuckled as if he'd heard something amusing, but a hint of anxiety lurked beneath the laughter. "Don't be so stubborn, Chu Zihang! Some people are destined to die, and some games are destined to be played by only a few. You're lucky to have been chosen by the 'master of this place,' so you don't have to play this damned game anymore. Know when to quit!"

It took two steps closer to Chu Zihang, lowering its voice, which was filled with sincerity and helplessness.

"Listen to me, let's go. If we go any deeper, you'll regret it. Some things are better left unknown than known. Why not get some sleep, and wake up to a new day?"

As Chu Zihang looked at the other person's dark eyes that were swirling behind the mask, the sense of familiarity grew stronger.

He gripped the village rain tightly and slowly shook his head.

“No,” Chu Zihang replied simply and firmly, “I can’t leave. I need to find them, I need to know the truth.”

The clown paused. The exaggerated smile on the mask froze for a moment. It stared at Chu Zihang silently for a few seconds, then suddenly sighed, a sigh so soft it was almost inaudible.

"Honestly, you're such a stubborn block of wood," the playful and lighthearted tone vanished, replaced by deep weariness. "Since you insist on courting death."

The clown slowly retreated, disappearing back into the shadows of the connecting area between the carriages. Only his wide, bright red clown smile stood out starkly against the eerie green light.

"Then so be it."

The sound faded, and the clown's figure disappeared completely into the darkness.

Chu Zihang was left alone, standing in the empty, silent carriage filled with the smell of blood, his brows furrowed.

Where does that sense of familiarity come from? Xia Mi, is that you?

Chapter 187 Chu Zihang Angrily Slays the Servants

The clown disappeared completely into the darkness of the connecting area between the carriages, waving casually as she left, as if shooing away non-existent flies.

A seemingly casual action opened Pandora's box.

"call--!"

A chilling wind suddenly swept through the carriage, dispersing the smell of blood but bringing with it an even stronger sense of Deadpool's malice.

At the connecting doors at the front and rear ends of the carriage, shadows writhed like living things, and one figure after another silently stepped out.

They were no longer the low-level Deadpools that had completely lost their human form and were insanely bloodthirsty, as they had been encountered before.

These newly appeared monsters maintained a roughly humanoid silhouette, wearing tattered but still discernibly standardized black combat uniforms. Their movements were coordinated and silent, like the most elite soldiers. Their skin was a lifeless bluish-gray, their facial features indistinct, with only pairs of emotionless golden eyes that gleamed with a cold, bloodthirsty light, all locked onto the only living being in the center of the carriage—Chu Zihang.

In their hands lay a variety of strangely shaped weapons, gleaming with a cold, metallic luster—bizarrely curved scimitars, long spikes with blood grooves, and oddly shaped blades that hummed like chainsaws. Without exception, each emanated a faint energy fluctuation. These were all specially forged alchemical weapons, capable of effectively killing hybrids and even dragons.

There were dozens of them! They silently filled all the space in front of and behind the carriage, like cold killing machines, forming a perfect and despairing encirclement.

“Approaching Grade B,” Chu Zihang said, his golden eyes narrowing slightly as he made the judgment instantly.

These Dead Servants may not be as strong individually as A-level hybrids, but they are well-trained, work together seamlessly, wield alchemical weapons, and there are so many of them! This is by no means a group of Dead Servants formed by chance, but a killing squad that has been carefully cultivated and may even have retained some of the fighting instincts from their previous lives.

The pressure, a terrifying pressure that felt almost tangible, almost crushed him.

Without any warning, without any shouts, the two Death Servants at the front moved simultaneously! Their footwork was eerily swift, advancing in a crisscrossing pattern like ghosts, their alchemical scimitars drawing chilling arcs, one to the left and one to the right, sealing off all of Chu Zihang's escape routes. Their coordination was terrifyingly perfect!

Chu Zihang moved.

Just before the scimitar struck his body, his body snapped backward like a taut bowstring. Murasame swept across the ground, the blazing flames not intended for a slash, but rather a violent outburst that created a fan-shaped shockwave of fire.

boom!

The intense flames temporarily repelled the frontal attack, but the Deadpools on either side changed tactics, thrusting their blades downwards towards his waist and abdomen. At the same time, Deadpools from behind and the sides surged forward like a tidal wave, their alchemical weapons gleaming with deadly cold light, attacking from all sorts of tricky angles.

Chu Zihang was like a small boat in a storm, the village rain swirling around him relentlessly.

Clang clang clang!

A dense, rain-like clashing of metal resounded, the sovereign's flames sometimes erupting, sometimes condensing on the blade, each collision exploding into blinding sparks and scorching heat waves.

Chu Zihang perfectly embodied the highest level of close combat at Kassel College, with every strike being concise, efficient, and deadly.

In a single exchange, he precisely severed the wrists of two Death Servants, and another had half his chest shattered by the explosion of Junyan.

But there were too many Deadpools, and they were utterly fearless of death and felt no pain. As soon as one fell, another immediately took its place, the attacks like an endless wave.

A chainsaw sword pierced through the net of blades, grazing Chu Zihang's left arm. A piercing scraping sound rang out, his tactical uniform was instantly torn apart, and the skin beneath was sliced ​​open by the enchanted serrations, blood immediately gushing out, bringing a burning sting and a slight numbness—the weapon was poisoned!

At the same time, a long spear with barbs thrust in from an extremely tricky angle, aiming straight for his back.

Chu Zihang narrowly dodged to the side, the tip of the gun grazing his ribs and leaving a trail of blood.

This can't go on!

Chu Zihang's eyes sharpened. In his normal state, he simply couldn't handle so many well-trained and well-equipped B-level assassins at the same time. If this war of attrition continued, he would surely die!