Chapter 53: The White Bone Mask
Leng JianFeng—he was Liu LuanLin’s right-hand man, or rather, Liu’s personal bodyguard and assassin. His appearance was unforgettable: twin blades at his waist, a toxin-filter mask covering his face. The moment Liew Ruyan saw him, she recognized him instantly.
And at that same moment, she realized the truth—Leng JianFeng wasn’t here for her. He was here for Chen Ning. Clearly, Chen Ning’s surveillance near the Liu residence had been discovered.
Leng JianFeng’s mission was simple: eliminate Chen Ning. First, because Chen Ning had killed Liu Xi. Second, because his suspicious movements around the Liu estate had stirred Liu LuanLin’s paranoia.
When Leng JianFeng’s gaze fell upon Chen Ning and Liew Ruyan standing together, his eyes narrowed behind the mask.
He was assessing them—what was their relationship? Was Liew Ruyan involved in Chen Ning’s schemes against the Liu family?
Still, he did not act rashly. Liew Ruyan wasn’t someone to provoke lightly—she was the general manager of the Liew Trading Company, one of Vermilion Phoenix City’s commercial giants.
More importantly, her family had powerful connections with the city lord himself. The Liew family’s firm had even discreetly handed 30% of its shares to the lord, in exchange for his protection.
Everyone in the city’s upper circle knew: whoever offended the Liew family, offended the city lord.
Leng JianFeng’s mission this time was to deal with Chen Ning.
As for the issue regarding Liew Ruyan, he planned to report it to Liu LuanLin upon his return and let him decide how to handle it.
His voice, filtered through the mask, was cold and mechanical:
“This has nothing to do with Miss Liew. Please leave. I have matters to settle—with him.”
Liew Ruyan froze. Though she and Chen Ning weren’t close, he had helped her earlier that day, even defended her and her adopted daughter. To turn her back on him now, knowing that this masked killer was here to take his life—she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
“There must be some mistake, Leng JianFeng,” she said quickly. “Chen Ning is my friend—”
“You have three seconds.”
The muffled voice behind the mask was like ice water down her spine. She saw the killing intent in his eyes—if she stayed a heartbeat longer, she’d die here too.
Chen Ning said calmly, “Go. Don’t worry about me—I can handle this. If I don’t make it tonight… take care of my family.”
He meant, of course, his daughter—Xiao Guo.
Liew Ruyan’s heart tightened. They weren’t close enough to die for each other, but something in his words struck her deeply. She hesitated, then nodded hard.
“All right.” Her high heels clacked as she turned and walked away.
Leng JianFeng watched her go, silent.
Initially, he’d planned to let her leave—her status made her untouchable. But seeing how close she and Chen Ning were, his suspicion deepened. Maybe she was involved. Maybe this woman and Chen Ning shared some hidden conspiracy.
He suddenly changed his mind—neither Liew Ruyan nor Chen Ning could be allowed to leave. He decided to capture them both alive and bring them before Liu LuanLin to uncover exactly what game they were playing.
As Liew Ruyan passed him, Leng Jianfeng suddenly moved.
A blur of motion—one precise strike to the neck.
Chen Ning’s pupils shrank. Liew Ruyan didn’t even have time to gasp before she collapsed, unconscious.
Leng JianFeng’s blow was swift, calculated—not fatal. He wanted her alive.
But Chen Ning didn’t waste a heartbeat. Countless times, the Butcher at Azurebird Base had drilled it into them—never waste an opening. Always be ready to strike.
The moment Liew Ruyan fell, Chen Ning’s sword was already in motion. Dragon Fang flashed from its sheath like a streak of lightning, cutting toward Leng JianFeng.
Chen Ning did carry a Thunder pistol—but at this range, there was no time to draw, safety off, aim, and fire. The sword was faster, deadlier.
Leng JianFeng, a Level-Six War Officer, was leagues beyond Chen Ning. The gulf between a War Soldier and a War Officer was a chasm of power. Even a double level-three like Chen Ning couldn’t hope to bridge it.
Leng JianFeng didn’t take Chen Ning seriously in the slightest.
Only when Chen Ning’s blade was upon him did the military sword at his left hip rasp from its scabbard, clanging as it parried the strike.
At the same time, the sword on his right hip swept out with lightning speed, aiming to slash Chen Ning’s arm.
Chen Ning hadn’t expected Leng Jianfeng to be so proficient with dual blades, nor had he anticipated the sheer speed of his opponent’s strikes.
Faced with the swift and cunning slash of Leng JianFeng’s right blade, he had no choice but to abandon his own weapon, pull back his hand, and retreat at top speed.
Even after dropping his sword, however, his reaction was a fraction too slow. Leng JianFeng’s right blade grazed Chen Ning’s arm, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.
Blood instantly streamed down Chen Ning’s arm as he staggered back several steps, a mix of shock and fury boiling within him.
Though he had crossed paths with Leng JianFeng once before, only now did he fully grasp the terrifying extent of his opponent’s strength. His own double level-three combatant prowess was utterly insignificant in the face of such overwhelming power.
Leng JianFeng was somewhat surprised. He stared at Chen Ning, who had barely managed to evade what should have been an unavoidable strike, and remarked with astonishment.
“Huh? It seems your strength exceeds that of a third-level soldier. Your true power is greater than it appears—no wonder Young Master Liu Xi fell at your hands.”
Chen Ning’s lips curled. “Still not strong enough!”
He lunged again, slashing for the throat.
Blades clashed, sparks flying in the dusk. Steel against steel. Speed against death.
Within moments, Chen Ning’s chest was cut open, blood dripping down his uniform.
Leng JianFeng lowered his left blade, pointing it at the ground, while his right blade hovered near his mask. He blew lightly, flicking a drop of Chen Ning’s blood from the edge.
“Your tricks end here,” he said coldly. “You’ve shown me all you’ve got. I’m done playing.”
Two exchanges. That was all it took for Chen Ning to understand the gap between them—an abyss he could not cross.
Then—A voice echoed in his mind. Hoarse, mocking, alive.
“Chen Ning, boy… stop hesitating. Give me control. I can crush him. Otherwise, you die—and when you die, your spiritual world dies too. I’ll vanish with you. We’re grasshoppers on the same rope, remember? Let me handle this, and we’ll both live.”
The Crimson Tyrant.
Chen Ning’s heart pounded. If he refused, he’d die here. If he agreed—he might lose his body to that cunning, evil being forever.
Cornered between wolf and tiger.
And then Leng Jianfeng’s blade flashed again—descending toward his face. The steel glinted just three centimeters from his eyes.
Chen Ning roared inside his mind:
“Crimson Tyrant! Let’s cooperate!”
“Excellent.”
Leng JianFeng’s killing strike should have ended it. But as his blade neared, an icy dread rippled through him. Something was wrong.
In the instant before impact— Chen Ning’s eyes turned crimson. His left cheek split open, forming a jagged white bone mask, its hollow eye sockets glowing red, its teeth bared in a ghastly grin.
Clang!
Leng JianFeng’s blade struck the mask with a sound that was neither metal nor stone. Sparks burst. His weapon—made from meteorite steel—failed to cut through.
Leng JianFeng’s pupils shrank.
“You—”
From behind the mask came a chilling laugh.
“Heh heh heh… are you impressed by me?”
Now, it was no longer Chen Ning standing before him.
It was the Crimson Tyrant, wearing Chen Ning’s flesh like armor—and the real battle had only just begun.
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