Chapter 491: Have You Been Attacked Today?
Chapter 491: Have You Been Attacked Today?
Fang Cheng checked the time—11:55 PM. He chuckled dryly.
The Grim Reaper struck twice per day without fail, resetting after midnight. Victor had chosen to visit five minutes before 12:00, unaware today’s second attack still loomed.
Rising, Fang Cheng opened the front door. A car sat parked on the street. Rain fell lightly now, the night sky still growling with thunder. For days he’d feared lightning strikes indoors, yet only the courtyard doll kept getting hit.
He stepped outside without an umbrella, curious about Victor’s purpose.
Victor emerged from the vehicle, hand raised. “Wait! Were you attacked today?”
“Already happened,” Fang Cheng nodded.
Victor checked his watch. Midnight approached in minutes. Relieved, he closed the distance between them. Seeing Fang Cheng unharmed, he privately admitted misjudging this Area 11 youth.
The bald director, Julia, and external personnel had all expected the Reaper to claim him. Yet here stood Fang Cheng on day six—no fluke, but raw power deserving Homeland Security’s A+ rating.
Power commanded respect. Hence Victor’s recent overtures. Anyone surviving seven Reaper days warranted recruitment.
Fang Cheng noticed the attitude shift but cared little; North America wasn’t his forever home. “Why come so late?”
“One warning.” Victor glanced around. “If you survive tomorrow, Director Tony will gather survivors awaiting the Gates of Heaven. Expect moles among them—trust no one.”
Fang Cheng studied him. Sato Mai’s stolen Homeland Security files revealed this Level 3 investigator’s complexities.
“Moles from the Gates?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Stay guarded.”
“Phone couldn’t handle this?”
“Lines aren’t secure.”
Victor’s expression turned grave. He wasn’t just worried about his phone being bugged – he’d even stepped out of his car fearing listening devices might be planted there, which was why he came to converse with Fang Cheng outside.
Fang Cheng pressed, “When you say don’t trust anyone, does that include yourself?”
Rather than taking offense, Victor smiled faintly. “That’s for you to determine.”
With a wave of his hand, he turned to leave.
As Fang Cheng watched the retreating figure, his Heart Awareness suddenly flared.
Danger!
Every hair on Fang Cheng’s body stood erect as if charged by electric current. He instantly recognized the impending threat and activated his War God Bloodline without delay.
But before he could teleport away, disaster arrived.
CRACK!
A lightning bolt slammed into Fang Cheng with thunderous fury, illuminating the courtyard in blinding light. The shockwave rattled nearby buildings.
Against this near light-speed attack, Fang Cheng’s premonition only gave him enough time to activate his bloodline defense. Escape proved impossible – he had to endure the full brunt.
The strike vanished as swiftly as it came. Left standing in the aftermath was a charred Fang Cheng, tendrils of smoke curling from his scorched body.
The commotion brought Ye Yuqing rushing from her Mahjong game. Taking in the smoking figure, she immediately understood. “Ah Cheng! Are you hurt?”
“Still breathing.” Fang Cheng exhaled a smoky breath tinged with burnt flesh. “This lightning’s weaker than Isis’ attacks. The War God Bloodline can handle it – just some surface burns. I’ll heal.”
Relieved, Ye Yuqing noticed another smoking form nearby. “What’s that?”
Fang Cheng followed her gaze and froze. “…”
He’d completely forgotten about Victor.
The fallen figure resembled charcoal briquette, smoke pluming from every orifice. Fang Cheng crouched beside the crispy remains. “Should’ve just called instead of visiting. Now you’ve got express entry to heaven.” He sighed dramatically. “No last words? And here I wanted your collectibles…”
Just as Fang Cheng lamented the loss of Victor’s treasures, the corpse abruptly sat up, spewing black smoke. Only the man’s eyes and teeth remained visible in his soot-blackened face, like a living shadow.
“You said you’d already been attacked today!” Victor rasped, voice raw from smoke inhalation. “Why more lightning?!”
Fang Cheng shrugged. “First attack happened. This was the second.”
Victor: “……”
He was tricked. That bastard must’ve kept it from him on purpose.
Fang Cheng reached out to help him up. “Get up. Need to wash up in the bathroom?”
“Don’t touch me!”
Victor jerked back, fear flashing across his face. Good thing he’d kept his distance earlier – any closer and that lightning strike would’ve fried him alive.
Midnight had passed. The seventh day’s attack could come any second now.
Victor scrambled to his feet without another word, waving a hasty goodbye before staggering to his car. Tomorrow he’d stay ten kilometers away from Fang Cheng at minimum. Thirty-five was too young to die thanks to some lightning-cursed lunatic.
Fang Cheng watched Victor’s retreating figure with amusement. Survived a direct lightning hit and still faked serious injuries? No way this guy was just a Level Three investigator. Still, Victor’s warning about a mole among the survivors deserved attention.
……
Day seven since opening the invitation letter.
Fang Cheng hadn’t slept, waiting for Death’s final two strikes. These were ace-level assaults – not something to underestimate. Kamikawa Takumi’s sneak attack had made even Isis falter, after all.
He’d positioned himself in the backyard today, keeping Ye Yuqing safely distant in the front yard. With five evil spirits already captured, she wouldn’t need to fear the Evil Spirit Doll’s attacks anymore.
Half a kilometer away, Little Spider peered through binoculars from a house window. The room held peculiar company: a magician in full regalia, Jack the overly-friendly black guy, and Erica – still nursing truck-collision bruises.
“That Asian’s dying today,” Erica growled, stabbing her knife through Fang Cheng’s sketched portrait. Useless gesture without Kamikawa Takumi’s ability, but cathartic after her near-death truck encounter. She’d planned revenge, but surviving six days of Death’s attention? If he beat today too, she’d have to swallow her rage.
Jack adjusted his binoculars. “Bet he lives.”
Erica’s glare could’ve melted steel. “Choosing sides now?”
Jack just shrugged. The magician sighed. “Arguing solves nothing.”
Little Spider put down the binoculars and snapped his fingers. “Let’s make a bet. Even odds, okay?”
Erica directly pulled several dollar bills from her pocket and threw them at Little Spider, murderous intent in her eyes. “I bet he dies.”
Jack also took out some bills and handed them over, grinning. “Same here.”
Little Spider flicked the money with his fingers, confused. “But you thought he’d survive?”
Jack nodded. “I still want to win cash.”
Little Spider said nothing.
He pocketed the money without asking the magician to join, then raised the binoculars again toward Fang Cheng hundreds of meters away.
Through the lenses, Fang Cheng suddenly looked up from his phone and stared directly at their position.
“You scared the hell out of me!”
Little Spider dropped the binoculars and patted his chest, turning to the others. “He’s sharp. We shouldn’t keep watching or he’ll spot us…”
He froze mid-sentence as Jack and Erica gaped at something behind him, even the magician wearing a battle-ready expression.
Little Spider’s instincts screamed danger behind him.
He tried to counterattack, but a hand clamped his shoulder from behind, crushing all resistance.
Whirling around, Little Spider’s eyes widened in shock. Fang Cheng stood behind them – having crossed hundreds of meters in seconds – studying the four with cold eyes.
“Spying on me?”
Only his sharp senses had detected their sneaky surveillance.
While hiding his identity, Fang Cheng refused to play harmless. Showing strength prevented trouble. He let his aura surge, invisible pressure weighing down the group.
They tensed like cornered prey, even hostile Erica staying still. Only pinned Little Spider kept calm.
He raised his hands. “No malice here, sir!”
“None?”
Fang Cheng chuckled. “Just casual stalking?”
Little Spider ducked his head shyly. “You caught us. Please don’t judge our hobby.”
The others stared in disbelief.
Fang Cheng squeezed the young man’s neck. “Give me a good reason, or you’ll all keep me company today.”
Four faces paled. Being near Death’s target risked collateral damage.
“Easy, man!” Little Spider blurted. “We came to watch you die… I mean, see the show!”
They’d handled their single evil spirits easily enough. Now they wanted to see if Fang Cheng could survive his final day – few endured the Grim Reaper’s attention, and only the toughest managed it.
Fang Cheng felt utterly speechless after hearing them out. These guys simply loved stirring the pot without worrying about consequences.
Their hidden motives remained unclear.
“Watching the show’s fine,” Fang Cheng slung an arm around Little Spider’s shoulders, addressing the trio, “but you’ll miss the good parts from too far away. Stick around me for better views.”
The audacity—he was clearly dragging them into danger!
Yet the overwhelming aura he radiated left them no courage to flee, fearing retaliation.
“Stay with you? Sure thing!”
Little Spider chirped agreement before adding, “Wait—did I leave my door unlocked? Thieves could be ransacking my place right now!”
Before Fang Cheng could respond, the Heart Awareness that had been nagging him for days flared urgently.
DANGER!
Above them!
Fang Cheng shoved Little Spider aside and bolted.
The others needed no explanation—his reaction screamed imminent peril.
With panicked screech, Little Spider smashed through the window. The trio tumbled out after him.
“Holy… muffins!”
First to land, Little Spider gaped skyward.
His companions fared no better—Jack’s dark complexion turned ashen, achieving instant paleness.
A spacecraft rivaling transport aircraft dimensions hurtled downward at terrifying speed, flames spewing from its tail as black smoke scarred the sky.
Though Fang Cheng had teleported hundreds of meters away, the vessel didn’t fall vertically. Its angled trajectory zeroed in on his new position.
The Grim Reaper’s work—denying escape, forcing confrontation.
Undeterred, Fang Cheng teleported again.
The tumbling craft veered midair, adjusting course toward his latest location.
No sooner had he reappeared than the warship struck like ballistic missile.
BOOM!
Deafening explosion. Blinding flame pillar. Devouring shockwave consumed surrounding houses.
Even the four fleeing figures got caught in the cataclysm.