Returning to the Mysterious Era

"Damn it, I didn't want to have to use this power, but you're forcing my hand!" The man in sunglasses stood about ten meters away and removed his shades, revealing his bizarre, pitch-black eyes. He roared, "Black Blood Seal… Release!"

Black tendrils protruded out from his neck, like a web crawling beneath his skin. In an instant, they spread across half his face, forming a bizarre pattern resembling raised tree branches. Upon closer inspection, one could see that they were not tendrils, but instead human veins with black blood running through them!

"When my body is in the Black Blood Release state, its capabilities increase dramatically—strength, speed, and defense all skyrocket, and my reaction time and dynamic vision are enhanced. And right now, I have surpassed humanity…" A vicious grin spread across his face as his body swelled rapidly, growing two to three times larger in just a split second. Black veins resembling steel cables crisscrossed his body, occasionally writhing beneath his skin like crawling worms.

At the moment, the man in sunglasses was now even taller than Cassius and his entire body radiated intense heat. He flexed his massive fists as his pitch-black eyes brimmed with confidence.

"I can only be in this state for a short time. Any longer and it will drain much of my lifespan but it's enough. I'll admit that you're strong, but this is the end for you!"

Boom!

The ground shook as the man in sunglasses stomped down. Laughing maniacally, he appeared in front of Cassius, his black-veined fist hammering down toward his face like an iron mallet.

Boom!

However, the man in sunglasses never saw Cassius's face cave in. Instead, he found himself flying backward, as if launched by a cannon. Sharp sounds exploded out from his chest like he'd been hit by a speeding train.

"Cough, cough! How is this possible? That was just one hit?!" He pressed one hand against the ground, feeling the stinging pain of broken ribs. His mind reeled, unable to comprehend what had just happened. He had unlocked his Black Blood Seal by sacrificing his life force in exchange for unimaginable force and yet, in a single clash, he had been sent flying. Moreover, it seemed as if the other person had done it without breaking a sweat.

Tap.

A pair of black boots appeared in the man's line of sight.

"So this is your trump card? Your speed, strength, and defense, even your reactions, definitely surpass human limits. But your technique hasn't improved at all; it's still stuck in the same spot. You're roughly the equivalent of a Covert Martial Arts Practitioner who had just broken through to the pugilist realm but hadn't consolidated their strength, albeit at the lower end of that range because you lack the ability to achieve a burst of power from accelerated blood flow…" The way Cassius was speaking as he calmly evaluated the man's power, it was as if no one else was present.

The other Duststorm members rushed in wielding sharp weapons, carving crescents in the air with their silver daggers. Yet the assault had no effect whatsoever. Cassius's hands blurred, and in an instant, two of the attackers had their wrists forcibly seized. They were powerless as the daggers in their hands were turned back against their own necks, the blades stabbing deeply into their throats.

A few others who managed to get close were grabbed by their heads, which were easily smashed together like they were two sponge balls. With a dull thud, they collapsed unconscious and bleeding.

Whoosh!

A rush of compressed air whistled in from the side. Cassius spun around at lightning speed and took a direct hit in the chest from the vest woman's powerful kick. His steel-like, dark arms clamped down on her pale ankle like scissors, snapping shut!

Crack!

"Ahhhhhh!" The sound of breaking bones and a scream erupted simultaneously. The woman in the vest's right foot was completely broken, with red flesh and white torn tendons spilling out of her cracked ankle, making for a gruesome sight.

Cassius yanked her by the calf and sent her flying far away with a powerful kick. She soared eight or nine meters through the air like a broken doll before her back slammed into a tree trunk. Green leaves rustled and fell like rain, covering the woman in the vest, whose trembling body curled up like a shrimp. Faint sobs could be heard.

Cassius glanced at the woman's pale back and shook his head. Her technique was even worse! And to dare kick in front of a formidable enemy was practically suicide according to Covert Martial Arts common sense. As soon as the enemy grabs your foot and pulls, you'd lose your balance, thereby sealing your fate.

Someone like Cassius could have easily grabbed her calf and broken her leg bone, piece by piece, with a simple hand chop. However, he didn't feel like being so bloody and violent since attending a meeting covered in blood wouldn't be proper.

Cassius turned his attention back to the man in sunglasses, who was shakily trying to get up. However, the previous blow had injured him severely, and his movements were still sluggish. Cassius began walking toward him, step by step.

"Stop!" The trench coat man's voice rang out from behind him.

Cassius didn't respond and kept moving.

"I said stop!!! Can't you hear me? I'm pointing a gun at your companion's head right now!" The voice was practically screaming.

Cassius finally stopped and glanced back. The magician was still standing by the sidewalk, calmly holding his clothes. The man in the trench coat wore a ferocious expression on his face as he raised his gun, pointing it directly at the magician's head from half a meter away.

"…" Cassius shot a puzzled look at the magician Bass.

The trench coat man continued to roar, "Step away from Number Fifteen and Number Twenty-Six, or I'll blow your guy's head into smithereens!"

Seeing the lack of a reaction from Cassius, he continued, "Didn't you hear me?! Are you deaf? Get away from them right now, or I'll really pull the trigger!"

Cassius kept his gaze on the magician and said slowly, "Why aren't you using your psychokinesis? Have you exhausted it too much?"

"What?" The man in the trench coat looked confused.

The magician's expression remained unchanged. "Weren't you the one who told me not to use psychokinesis for the time being?"

Cassius raised an eyebrow and lifted his right hand, snapping his fingers. It was a gesture that roughly meant, "Rascal, you comprehend things well, huh?"

"What are you two talking about? Can't you see I'm threatening you right now? Don't act so calm and scare me!" The man in the trench coat's face grew even more twisted.

Cassius continued to ignore him and simply said to Bass, "I now permit you to use your psychokinesis. Take down the one pointing the gun at you."

"You want to die? Then I'll grant your wish!" Eyes burning with rage at being belittled, the man in the trench coat pulled the trigger without hesitation.

Bang!

The muzzle spat out fire, and a bullet shot toward Bass's forehead tremendously fast. However, out of nowhere, a black metal plate appeared in the bullet's path, suspended midair. With a swift whoosh, the bullet pierced the first plate, then the second, the third, the fourth…

A total of ten iron plates blocked most of Bass's face, almost covering his entire head. Amidst the shower of sparks, the bullet stopped at the sixth plate, due to the deformed bullet getting lodged in there.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

Three palm-sized, rectangular iron plates flew out like playing cards, quickly accelerating as it moved. One sliced through the trench coat man's wrist like lightning, another toward his neck, and the last one spun rapidly, aiming for his forehead.

Squish, squelch…

Blood spurted like crimson flowers blooming in the air. With a dull thud, the man in the trench coat fell lying face-up. A metal plate was stuck halfway in his neck, and another was embedded squarely in the middle of his forehead.

The man in sunglasses might have had some strange transformation, but the man in the trench coat and the woman in the vest didn't. Their reflexes were only slightly better than normal people, so they stood no chance against the magician's full-force triple attack.

Bass's face was a little pale, sweat beading on his forehead, but all in all, he didn't seem to be in too poor of a condition. His eyes and aura remained calm and composed. Footsteps sounded from beside him. It was Cassius.

"There's no need to prove your loyalty this way. I detest incompetent fools more than empty promises of allegiance. Do you understand what I mean?" Cassius's expression hadn't changed at all throughout the entire event.

"I understand." Bass nodded, handing over Cassius's shirt. "Your clothes, sir."

A few seconds later, Cassius and Bass walked toward the site of the battle. Duststorm members were in disarray, lying sprawled on the ground. Traces of blood were everywhere. The only two still conscious were the man in sunglasses and the woman in the vest beside him.

According to the man in the trench coat, one was Number Fifteen of Duststorm, and the other was Number Twenty-Six. Cassius's gaze flickered slightly; clearly, there was a certain degree of difference between them. He estimated this gap was around Number Twenty.

In other words, those below Number Twenty likely had the same Black Blood Seal Release ability as the man in sunglasses, allowing them to just barely surpass the limits of the human body, although the duration was short and the side effects considerable. Not to mention, their combat moves couldn't keep up. Cassius estimated that it would take two to match one normal pugilist, and in a prolonged fight, it might take three of them working together to suppress a pugilist.

As for the sudden increase in physical strength and the blackening of their veins, Cassius suspected it had something to do with the Dead Blood he'd theorized about. And the dark creatures that had once wiped out the Wind Elephant Sect? Cassius had only one thought in his mind—total annihilation.

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Whether in the time-travel era or in the real world, if he found the Dead Blood, Cassius would make sure they paid the price—a price steep enough to make them truly suffer!

***

Deep within Green Light Park, there was a small building hidden in the woods. As sunlight filtered through the trees, it beamed across five or six stern-looking black-clad men patrolling around the building. They were all tall and muscular, and, from the looks of their bulging waists, seemed to be carrying guns.

In one of the rooms on the ground floor, the layout was no different from a regular living room. A white vase with flowers, a brown rectangular bookshelf, and several warm-colored sofas were placed in the corners. White floral curtains by the window were tied back with a cord, letting sunlight spill onto the wooden rectangular table. It gave the room a cozy and comfortable feeling.

Sitting around the table were four people, with two more seated on a sofa in the corner. Cassius would be familiar with half of them as they were the remaining three high-ranking members of the assassination department. The first was the Jack of Hearts, White Bird, who was dressed entirely in a black suit. The elderly gentleman with white hair and a stern but elegant demeanor was known as Jack of Spades or Sir, and he wore a tuxedo and a wide-brimmed hat. The tall, middle-aged man with a narrow mustache on his upper lip and a pointed beard on his chin was the Jack of Clubs, Red Fang.

The three had the sharp, dangerous aura of the assassination group. The other three were much more relaxed and dressed less formally. One of them was a beautiful young girl wearing a light purple dress and a white lace hat on her head. Her hands were folded naturally in front of her and although she appeared to be around twenty years old, she carried an air of grace and elegance.

"It's almost time for the meeting. Hasn't Mr. Wind Elephant arrived yet?" She glanced at the white watch on her delicate wrist. Her voice was crisp and pleasant, like a songbird's.

"Wind Elephant never has any sense of time…" Red Fang muttered, clearly harboring some old grievances.

"Who's talking shit about me?"

Suddenly, the door to the room was pushed open, and a long shadow was cast on the floor, creating an inexplicable sense of pressure.

Thud.

An unconscious man was thrown on the ground.

Cassius stepped in, his gaze sweeping around the room. "Members of the antiques department, it's so nice to meet you all. Please accept my greeting gift."

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