Returning to the Mysterious Era

Cassius took a deep breath and finally unclenched his fist. He pointed at a gunman in black clothing who was standing at a distance.

"You, come here."

"Me?" The man pointed at himself. He jogged over to Red Fang and Cassius's sides, ready to follow orders. "Do you need something, sir?"

Two minutes later, the three men, including Red Fang, stood on the side of the street, their faces in disbelief. Red Fang was especially shocked.

"Wind Elephant, you're saying you just had a conversation with me on the second floor and then met Walker on the first floor?" He studied Cassius's face. "Are you sure you weren't seeing things?"

"Impossible," Cassius said, his gaze sweeping around their surroundings before meeting Red Fang's eyes. His expression was dead serious. "Even if you were hallucinating, I wouldn't be. You know I wouldn't joke around at a time like this."

"Not a hallucination…" Red Fang subconsciously stroked his beard.

"Could it be the ghost of Mensa Village?" the tall, thin gunman suggested.

"How could there be ghosts in this world? Stop talking nonsense," Red Fang scolded the gunman before continuing. "Rather than believing in some mythical ghost, I'm more inclined to think Duststorm is playing a trick on us. They're using some unspecified means as a fear tactic."

Cassius didn't respond to this comment. His expression gradually calmed once again, save for the cold, harsh light in his eyes. He said slowly, "Let's not waste time here. Let's go to the next location. I have the same terrible feeling."

A few minutes later, the group arrived at an affluent family home. It was a miniature estate, surrounded by a slightly higher-than-average wall. The garden inside, once meticulously maintained, had become overgrown over the years, with branches spilling over the wall and rustling in the wind.

With Red Fang leading the way, the group pushed open the decayed iron gate and stepped inside.

Before them, a four-story gray-white villa came into view, lit by the dim light of the setting sun. The walls, which once boasted bright, vivid colors, were now weather-beaten and stained. The wrought iron lamp brackets on the building were also severely corroded. The front windows, shaped like a cross, swung open to both sides with rusty and wobbly hinges that looked as if they could fall off at any moment. Fortunately, unlike the other houses, this villa seemed to have escaped from the vine overgrowth, and its overall appearance was relatively good.

The group entered the first floor of the villa, yelling out the names of the members of the assassination department stationed there. But Cassius's ominous feeling came true—another member had vanished.

The empty hall echoed with their shouts. They moved up to the second floor. This villa turned out to be larger than it looked from the outside. The second floor had many corridors and even more rooms. Although everything was covered in dust, it all seemed relatively intact.

Creak.

Cassius looked at the gray-white wooden door in front of him, gently pushing it open before stepping inside. As expected, thick dust blanketed the entire room. Each step Cassius took left a visible footprint and made a creaking sound.

The room's layout was old-fashioned: a bed, a wardrobe against the wall, a bookshelf, and a decorative vase. A spiderweb stretched across the window, covering the entire opening.

Cassius peered through a gap in the web to the outside. Nothing unusual here. He turned back and froze.

In front of him was a gray-white door with blurred floral patterns on its surface, and with an old-fashioned molding. There was nothing unique or remarkable about it, but Cassius clearly remembered that he hadn't closed the door when he entered the room. Yet, in the blink of an eye, it had shut, and the hinges hadn't even made a sound. When he pushed the door open before, it had let out a sharp rasp.

Cassius took a few steps forward and grabbed the dusty doorknob, gently pulling it inward. It didn't budge.

He frowned and tightened his grip. With a force that exceeded the normal limits of an adult man, he yanked it toward him, and the doorknob broke off, leaving half of an oval in his hand.

Cassius took a step back, his expression dark as he crushed the doorknob into sawdust. His already large fist swelled inch by inch, and the muscles of his forearm jutted like rocks.

"Enough of this trickery. Open up."

He took one step forward and punched the door with a huge bang, causing the wall to tremble. White plaster rained down from the ceiling throughout the room.

Bang!

He punched again, his hammer-like fist smashing into the door.

Crack!

The wooden door finally couldn't take it anymore and let out a hoarse, dying groan. The door shattered, splitting in two. Cassius clenched his fist and rushed out.

In the hallway, Red Fang stood a meter away, an appalled expression on his face, seemingly taken aback by the aura exuding from Cassius.

Red Fang came closer. "What happened?"

"When I entered the room just now, the door somehow closed. It might be…" Cassius's words stopped abruptly. Because he had just turned around only to see a perfectly intact, wide-open, wooden door.

"How is this possible? I just smashed it…" Cassius turned back again. A chill shot down his spine. Red Fang, who had just been talking to him, was gone. The entire corridor was now empty.

He listened carefully, but he couldn't hear any sounds of the Ace of Spades' gunmen rummaging through or walking around in the other rooms on the floor. What he did hear was a ghostly howling, created by the air rushing in through the windows and out through the corridor. The hallway's dark and gloomy environment was terrifyingly silent.

Hiss, hiss, hiss…

Cassius suddenly heard what sounded like electrical noises coming from outside. Or a group of snakes slithering and rubbing against the ground. He rushed back into the room, leaping onto the side balcony.

It was nighttime! What had been a dim, cloudy day had turned into night! Stars clustered around the moon, casting a faint glow.

Things are getting stranger… How is it suddenly night? Cassius's heart involuntarily began to beat faster.

Thump… thump… like the pounding of a drum.

"Hey! Who are you?! What are you doing climbing onto my balcony in the middle of the night?!" a male voice suddenly shouted from behind.

Cassius whipped around to find a room identical in layout to the previous one, but now completely free of dust and cobwebs. The walls were snow-white, and the floor was new. The previously rotten, dark bed was now clean and neatly made, with a bedsheet draped over it.

A shirtless man on the bed was glaring at him. He sprang to his feet, yelling, "Thief! Catch him! There's a thief!"

Bracing his right hand on the balcony railing, Cassius swung himself up and over, performing a quick flip. With a soft thud, he landed on one knee.

As he stood up, the blurry shadows that had surrounded him cleared up again. He turned; the night had once again become day.

"…"

Cassius stood silently, rooted to the spot. The rapid sequence of changes had been so natural that he began to wonder if he had truly been hallucinating without realizing it.

"Lord Wind Elephant, are you alright?"

Several Ace of Spades gunmen rushed over from the villa's entrance. They had been searching the rooms when they heard the sound of something heavy falling outside and had looked out just in time to see Cassius landing on the ground.

"I'm fine." Cassius waved his hand dismissively.

"Did someone fall?" Red Fang's voice came from the doorway. He hurried over and skidded to a stop when he saw Cassius. "Huh? Wind Elephant, weren't you just…" Red Fang seemed to realize something.

Did I have a hallucination too?! The ends of his mustache twitched involuntarily.

Someone's watching us!

Cassius keenly sensed a gaze coming from the left side of the high wall. He pushed off with both feet, speeding off in pursuit.

Despite how light his feet were, as soon as his toes touched the ground, the earth sank beneath his weight. He vaulted over a wall higher than an average adult effortlessly. Once he landed on the ground, his eyes went to the end of the alley where he caught a glimpse of the corner of a piece of clothing before it disappeared in an instant.

Cassius immediately gave chase, each stride covering several meters. In no time, he appeared in another alleyway, where a tall figure was running wildly.

"Stop!"

Cassius charged forward again. The two moved at an inhuman speed, covering an entire alley in less than a second. As they reached a gray and white corner, Cassius made a sharp turn.

"Stop right there!"

Whoosh!

It was as if a painter had torn down a canvas. Day transformed into night instantaneously, darkness falling in a dramatic fashion. The seamless transition felt as though the sky was nothing more than a curtain, with daylight swiftly pulled down into night.

A group of torch-wielding villagers standing directly before Cassius froze but quickly recovered from their fear, hollering and charging forward again.

"Get out of my way!"

Faced with this bizarre scene, Cassius had no intention of holding back. His massive frame barreled forward like an elephant, knocking the villagers into the air one by one.

Some shrieked in pain, while others were silent. Some, terrified, clung to the walls with their torches raised, the flames illuminating the terror written plainly across their faces.

"Hmph."

Cassius wasn't sure if they were humans or ghosts but it didn't matter because either way, he paid no mind to these entities.

With a single step, he crushed a brick underfoot, and like an arrow released from a bow, he shot forward. After another turn, the sky changed again. Dim light replaced the pitch-black darkness, and Cassius saw a figure in the distance, gradually getting farther away.

When he looked up, he could see a church that was noticeably taller than the surrounding buildings. It was a typical spire structure, designed in a grayish-white classical style. A broken cross was perched at its peak, and beneath the long, rectangular gable windows was an image of the Holy Spirit.

He went toward the church.

Cassius turned away and began his chase at full speed.

A hundred meters from Mensa Church, in a narrow gray alley, the tall figure that had been sprinting suddenly stopped. Someone was blocking the path ahead: Cassius, who stood like a wall in the middle of the alley.

He studied the man in front of him. The man's short hair was like steel spikes, and with his deep-set, brooding features, he had an inexplicable menacing aura. A silver metal ring, slightly larger than a thumb, dangled from his ear. Cassius's eyes zeroed in on the man's hands.

"Heh, there's no need to look anymore. I am Duststorm's Number Eight. I never thought you'd manage to track me all the way here." The man with the earring wore a cold expression.

"Were you the one who caused those eerie illusions earlier?" With his eyes narrowed, Cassius looked supremely unfriendly.

"What illusions?" A fleeting look of confusion crossed the man's face. "If you're talking about the disappearance of your assassin stationed here, then yes, that was my doing. It was just an hour ago, but I remember how miserably he screamed when he died. Tsk, tsk… I severed his Achilles tendons. Oh, and the tendons in his upper body too."

A cruel smile crept onto his face, and his silver earring swayed slightly. It seemed to be stained with a bit of blood.

"So it was you!"

Fury and dread surged through Cassius. Without him realizing it, he had fallen for Duststorm's incredibly realistic hallucinations just now. Duststorm's capabilities were not to be underestimated.

He clenched his fist slightly, deciding to unleash his full strength to kill the opponent immediately. He wanted to avoid the risk of such illusions reappearing in the heat of battle, which would put him in danger.

"Heh, what an impressive aura. You must be a top executive of the Ace of Spades' assassination department. Let me see what you're capable of…"

The man with the earring flicked his hands, and suddenly, he was wearing a pair of brown leather gloves on his hands. The gloves were studded with conical iron spikes to enhance the lethality of his punches.

"Elephant's Roar!"

Cassius sprinted with all his might, his muscles instantly bulging, his loose clothing stretched to its limit. A fierce and powerful aura erupted from him, his right arm swelling to twice its normal size. Amidst a shrill, elephant-like roar, his punch flew forward.

"What?!"

The man with the earring suddenly lost sight of Cassius. He hastily activated his Black Blood Seal Release, instantly transforming into a small, muscular giant. His fist, as large as a sandbag, also slammed forward.

Bang! Boom!

Two dull thuds echoed through the alley.

Cassius looked down at the black fist pressed against his chest. The fabric around his chest had already disintegrated.

"Cough, cough, cough!"

Number Eight coughed up blood, his eyes bloodshot. He also glanced down. Blood poured down from the gaping hole a rock-white fist as thick as half a chest had made when it pierced through him like an iron rod.

"Number Five will…avenge me! Cough, he only needs ten seconds to get here from the church... Just you wait—"

With a squelch, Cassius pulled out his bloody hand. The man with the earring collapsed to the ground, his eyes burning with resentment.

Cassius placed his left hand on his chest, feeling discomfort as if something hard was pressing against it. Number Eight's punch had dealt him a minor injury. Shaking his hand, Cassius let out a small sigh of relief.

Suddenly, the scene before him turned into darkness. Then, with another blink, it reverted to daylight.

I'm still under the influence of illusions. I made the right choice to attack immediately. If a similar situation occurred in the middle of a fight, I could be badly injured. Maybe even killed. A master's victory or defeat can be determined in an instant.

Cassius glanced at the distant church. If he was correct in his guess, that was likely Duststorm's antique transport hub. The antique goods might be stored in the basement.

Half a minute later, Cassius appeared at the church entrance. It was a massive white archway with religious carvings. Not far from the arch was the main door of Mensa Church which was, surprisingly, slightly ajar. Someone with good eyesight could see what was inside.

Cassius cautiously peered inside.

The hall was a mess with the floor covered in what seemed like black and red liquid and solid matter; it looked like bloodstains. There appeared to be broken limbs as well. From his vantage point, he could see two or three people lying on the ground, one of them with his right hand pressed flat against the floor.

Blood flowed from his fingertips and spread outward. On the back of his hand were the faint words, "Number Five."

Cassius still remembered Number Eight's last words from just a moment ago, but Duststorm's Number Five was dead now. Who could have done this?

Footsteps echoed from inside the church. Cassius turned his head to look.

A figure stood in the center of the scattered limbs, the only thing that could be seen from underneath his black robe was a pair of withered hands where blood dripped continuously from his fingertips.

He was finishing off the injured one by one. Every time his right hand blurred and flashed, a Duststorm member's head would be severed with a spatter of blood. The scene was horrifyingly gruesome.