Chapter 722 - 642: Wild Treasure Chest? This World Is Really Dirty

Choose [Mask], or choose [Destiny]?

Ha! Zuo Bai can definitely answer this question well!

To him, this isn’t a multiple-choice question; it’s clearly a... death sentence!

Even though [Mask] spared him in the bushes, barely qualifying as "a smile can erase past grudges";

Even though [Destiny] has been illegally detaining him, threatening him, betraying him, and even packing him as a "gift" to others....

Still, Zuo Bai’s stance remains unwavering as a rock, as steady as a loyal lap dog.

He insists on standing firmly, doggedly, and wholeheartedly with [Destiny].

Sorry, but a scientist recognizes the big picture, understands the situation, fears power but doesn’t hold grudges.

So, in the next instant after Captain of the Constables charged forward, Zuo Bai also moved.

Unlike the timid and fearful Wu Shou, Zuo Bai has a clear mind, a definite goal, and he advances relentlessly.

The principle is exactly the same as when he conducts research in the lab – once the direction and goal of the experiment are confirmed, he must adopt the determination to not turn back before hitting the wall, and to break through the wall even if he crashes into it.

As for Wu Shou?

He is just a taxi driver, whose instinctive habit is to step on the brake when encountering road accidents.

So, Zuo Bai closely followed behind Captain of the Constables, surging fully toward [Mask] with all his Strength and ruthlessness.

Such ferocious momentum and such a fierce expression – he looked even three times more vicious than Captain of the Constables who rushed forward first.

He ran swiftly, and the whistling wind between his legs seemed to carry his undying declaration to [Destiny]:

"Loyalty! Allegiance!"

Ahead, the forest white ribs on Feng Mu’s chest were opening and closing like the fangs of a Wild Beast, his steps crazed and forward-moving, resembling a mad dog wildly biting and refusing to let go of the Master of Ceremonies’ head.

Every time the bony teeth clamped together, a bloody wind swept forth, only a hair’s breadth away from the Master of Ceremonies’ face.

Meanwhile, his right hand suddenly touched behind his neck like lightning.

"Rip—!!!"

The muscles at the back of Feng Mu’s neck tore open suddenly, viscous bodily fluids and flesh fragments splattered out, and a nearly 4-meter-long spine, wriggling like a giant python, was pulled out by him from behind his neck.

The bone spurs at the joints gleamed sharply, reflecting a cold and deadly radiance under the streetlights.

With a fierce shake of Feng Mu’s wrist, the spine twisted and rotated in mid-air, making a hissing sound like a snake as it aimed at the scarlet long tongue attacking from the side with a whistling of shredded air.

Simultaneously, his left hand suddenly flung backward, fast enough to leave afterimages.

"Shoo! Shoo! Shoo! Shoo! Shoo—!"

Five pale finger bones shot out from the torn flesh like bullets, forming a line in the air, targeting the evil wind coming from behind precisely.

Beneath his feet, the shadow grew increasingly eerie with the lighting and his rapid movement, instantly stretching and condensing into a humanoid Ghost Shadow.

The Ghost Shadow was faceless black, with only a pair of hollow eye sockets, and silently rushed to attack the shouting Zuo Bai.

Watching the shadow charging towards him, Zuo Bai’s electronic eyes flared blue.

For some reason, he felt that [Mask]’s shadow, compared to the first time he saw it, lost a trace of vitality, appearing a bit dull.

Like a prisoner locked away for too long, it had lost its spirit.

The Master of Ceremonies, dragged back by the Wild Beast, felt the icy wind brought by the closing bony teeth, akin to a razor scraping across his face.

He glared wide-eyed behind the black cloth, not flinching in fear, yet he still avoided looking directly at [Mask]’s eyes, focusing his gaze firmly on their rapidly approaching feet.

He spoke swiftly:

"[Mask], what are you doing? Have you misunderstood something? We mean no harm to you; engaging us in a fight is of no benefit to you."

Feng Mu chuckled sinisterly behind his forest white Mask:

"Hah... no harm to me? Don’t use deceitful rhetoric to fool me; your tricks are all too familiar to me."

Feng Mu’s speed increased, a string of Ghost Shadows trailing behind him as he coldly mocked:

"If you mean no harm, then why don’t you dare to look at me directly? Your deceit is not convincing enough.

Let me teach you a lesson, always look into the other’s eyes when speaking; it’s more trustworthy, understand?!"

A bitter feeling welled in the Master of Ceremonies’ heart, like a mute swallowing bitter medicine without being able to speak:

"Why don’t I look at you? Don’t you have an inkling yourself?!"

Seeing the Master of Ceremonies at a loss for words, Feng Mu’s murderous intent grew even stronger, he sneered:

"Can’t say anything? Let me speak for you! Who exactly are you, when did you start targeting me, and why?"

Before the voice could fall, Feng Mu took two more steps forward.

The Master of Ceremonies’ head jerked back abruptly, the black cloth covering his face ripped open by the biting ribs, along with a layer of flesh beneath it.

Warm blood immediately flowed from the open wound, staining half of his cheek.

Yet, there was no sign of anger or fear on the Master of Ceremonies’ face; instead, he raised his head and grinned to reveal a bloody smile:

"We are here to represent [Destiny] and extend an olive branch to you!"

His sleeve discreetly twitched, a parasitic seed of [Destiny] quietly slid into his palm.

He grasped the seed, not forgetting to offer a friendly reminder:

"[Mask], I’m not threatening you; if you stop now, we’re still friends, otherwise..."

Otherwise, if they were to perish, a pre-set encrypted email would automatically be sent to [Clown], and all information related to [Mask] would be submitted to headquarters.