Fishing Village Hut.
Tang Rou was curled up on a cold straw mat.
Every breath felt like a dull knife scraping against her ribs.
The high fever clouded her consciousness, and cold sweat soaked through her thin clothes, bringing wave after wave of chills.
An old man, with whom she could not communicate due to the language barrier, crouched beside her.
He carefully lifted the coarse cloth serving as a temporary bandage to inspect the hideous wound under her ribs.
Seeing the fresh blood seeping onto the gauze and the slightly inflamed edges, he clicked his tongue anxiously.
He stood up and poured a small amount of precious fresh water from a worn clay jar, moistened a relatively clean soft cloth, and began wiping away the blood and sweat around the wound.
When the cool water touched her burning skin, Tang Rou subconsciously flinched.
The old man immediately stopped as if he had done something wrong, making meaningless, soothing sounds.
Next, he took some crushed, pungent dark green herbs and carefully applied them to the wound.
The old man’s fingers were as rough as old tree bark, yet his movements possessed a meticulousness that was almost devout.
After finishing, he re-wrapped her with clean strips of cloth.
Though his movements were clumsy, he tried his best to tie them securely.
Then, he picked up a battered clay bowl containing a freshly brewed, bitter-smelling fish soup.
He scooped a bit with a wooden spoon, carefully blew on it to cool it down, and held it to Tang Rou’s cracked lips.
Tang Rou looked at his face, which was covered in wrinkles and age spots.
A sour mixture of gratitude, guilt, and helplessness surged in her heart.
She forced her mouth open and swallowed the fishy broth.
Right then —
*Bang!*
The loud crash of the door being kicked open shattered the brief, fragile silence.
Several fierce-looking Bounty Hunters stormed in, their greedy gazes instantly locking onto Tang Rou as she leaned against the corner.
Tang Rou’s heart sank.
She instantly assessed the situation, her strong survival instinct urging her to use “Niying” to escape immediately.
However, her gaze swept across the man in front of her.
The moment the loud noise erupted, the old man had instinctively used his hunched, aged body to tremble — yet stand with extraordinary firmness — between her and the intruders.
Looking at the old man’s back, which was shaking violently from fear, all of Tang Rou’s escape plans instantly collapsed.
‘I can’t involve him.’
That thought overrode everything else.
She took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to hide immediately.
In a flash, a plan formed in her mind.
She would leave the hut voluntarily and then lead these people away to deal with them.
She purposefully showed a weak and submissive expression to the hunters, pointing outside to indicate she would follow them.
The hunters, unsuspecting, escorted her out of the hut.
When they reached a spot far from the hut, sheltered by several huge boulders, Tang Rou’s footsteps “stumbled,” as if her strength had failed her.
“Behave yourself!”
The Scar-faced Hunter closest to her instinctively reached out to grab her arm.
The moment his fingers were about to touch her sleeve —
She disappeared.
No, she didn’t disappear completely.
In the blink of an eye, her figure became like a reflection in a pool of water after a stone had been tossed in — twisting and rippling violently.
She seemed to merge with the surrounding light and air, leaving behind only an extremely faint, almost imperceptible outline.
“Niying” activated!
The Scar-faced Hunter’s hand grabbed empty air, and he froze for a moment.
That fraction of a second was all she needed!
The faint outline slid across the ground like a ghost, instantly cutting into the inner side of his gun-wielding arm!
One cold hand clamped onto his wrist like an iron vise, her thumb pressing precisely onto his index finger on the trigger to prevent him from firing!
Simultaneously, her other elbow, carrying her full body weight, smashed ruthlessly upward into his jaw!
*Snap!*
A sickening sound rang out.
The hunter didn’t even have time to scream before the intense pain and the shock to his brain caused his vision to go black.
In the moment his consciousness faded and his arm went limp, Tang Rou twisted her wrist and easily snatched the handgun away.
The entire process was silent and swift, as if it had been practiced a thousand times.
*Pfft!*
A dull, suppressed gunshot rang out.
The bullet accurately struck the thigh of another hunter who had just reacted and was about to raise his gun.
The man screamed and collapsed, losing his balance.
The third hunter finally realized what was happening and began firing wildly at the spot where Tang Rou had vaguely appeared!
But Tang Rou was no longer there.
She was like a mist blending into the sunlight, using the shadows of the boulders to hide her form again.
Only the slight sound of footsteps, almost muffled by the waves, moved rapidly.
The moment the hunter emptied his magazine and was frantically reloading —
Tang Rou lunged from his blind spot like a hunting leopard!
She didn’t use the gun.
Instead, she used the hard grip of the stolen pistol as a blunt weapon, using all her strength to smash it into the back of his neck!
“Ugh!”
The hunter groaned and slumped to the ground.
The battle had started and ended within a mere ten seconds.
Tang Rou leaned against a boulder, panting heavily, her forehead covered in cold sweat.
The wound under her ribs throbbed with a tearing pain, making her vision swim.
That series of lightning-fast movements had nearly drained the last of her energy.
She thought she was temporarily safe and wanted to catch her breath…
However, the moment before she could even steady her breathing —
A voice rang out behind her without any warning.
The voice wasn’t loud; it even carried a strange, almost appreciative, steady tone.
Yet, it was like a cold steel needle, instantly piercing through all her defenses and reaching the depths of her soul.
“Clean and efficient. As expected of a ‘Messenger’ of Thanatos.”
There were no footsteps and no energy fluctuations.
It was as if the speaker was a part of this space itself, having stood there silently for a long time.
Tang Rou’s body suddenly stiffened.
A chill exploded from the depths of her heart, instantly sweeping through her entire body and leaving even her fingertips icy.
She could feel the hair on her back standing on end.
All her movements, including her breathing, ceased at that moment.
Time seemed to stretch.
The only sounds left were her own drum-like heartbeat, suppressed within her chest, and the eternal background noise of the waves tirelessly beating against the rocks.
Extremely slowly, as if afraid of disturbing something, she turned around.
The first thing she saw was a pair of well-fitted tactical boots standing silently on the sand a few paces away.
Her gaze moved upward.
A person stood there, perfectly upright, with a low-quality… mask over their head.
It was a burlap sack with a few holes poked through it.
If she weren’t currently in a life-or-death situation, Tang Rou might have burst out laughing, but now she only felt an instinctive sense of dread.
The person wearing the sack was a woman.
She didn’t take an offensive stance; she simply stood there casually, her hands hanging naturally by her sides.
But that composure was, in itself, an invisible and immense pressure to Tang Rou.
Through the sack, the woman’s eyes — as calm as a glacier — were like precise probes, firmly locked onto the hidden pouch tied to Tang Rou’s waist.
The pouch was currently emitting a faint but impossible-to-hide energy fluctuation.
She looked at Tang Rou as if looking at a chess piece that had already fallen onto the board and could no longer escape.
“However,” Yue spoke again, her voice remaining steady, “you should stop here.”
“Give me the ‘Eye of Ra’.”
She paused, the corner of her mouth curving into an extremely faint, almost nonexistent arc as she added, “This isn’t a request.”