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墨書 Inktalez
In a grim underground altar, Yang Jin was bound to a stone pillar, unable to move.
The Demon Face King stood before the altar, emitting a chilling laugh.
"Hehehe... it's almost time, almost time..." The Demon Face King extended his withered hand, caressing the runes on the altar. "Once you offer your soul, I will awaken the slumbering power!"
Yang Jin struggled, his face reflecting shock.
A faint figure of the Golden Masked King stood at the center of the altar, chanting incantations.
Around the altar, eerie runes flickered, exuding an unsettling aura.
The Demon Face King raised both hands, and a surge of black energy erupted from his body, coalescing into a massive black vortex.
At the center of the vortex, a blurred silhouette gradually took shape—a gigantic ghostly face statue radiating a sinister presence.
The Demon Face King bound Yang Jin to the altar and continued his incantation. "O slumbering power, I offer this pure soul as a sacrifice; awaken now!"
Yang Jin's eyes widened in terror as he felt a powerful force approaching him. He knew that if this force were truly awakened, the consequences would be unimaginable.
He struggled but could not break free from his restraints. He saw an eerie green light flickering in the Demon Face King's hand, and an overwhelming sense of oppression washed over him as energy shot from his fingertips and vanished into the air.
The surrounding air turned icy and piercing, with gusts of cold wind that seemed to carry whispers from countless ghosts.
At the Night Watch Headquarters, Sun Wukong closed his eyes and silently recited the tracking secret taught by Buddha. A beam of golden light shot from his fingertips as he leaned closer to Lin Qiye and whispered, "The Night Watchman is in trouble; we must go rescue Yang Jin ourselves."
Sun Wukong closed his eyes, clasped his hands together, and silently recited the tracking secret taught by the Buddha. He felt a faint connection guiding him to Yang Jin's location. He opened his eyes, a glimmer of determination flashing within them.
Lin Qiye looked at Sun Wukong and instantly understood his meaning.
"Lin Qiye," Sun Wukong turned to him, his tone curving through the air as he pointed into the distance. "I know where Yang Jin is."
Lin Qiye sprang to his feet, grabbing Sun Wukong by the collar. "What did you say?! Take me there! I need to save him!" His eyes were filled with urgency and anger.
Sun Wukong gently pushed Lin Qiye's hand away, his gaze resolute. "We must leave here first." He walked over to the window, surveying the surroundings before pointing in a direction. "We can avoid the guards by going that way."
Without a moment's hesitation, Lin Qiye followed Sun Wukong toward the window. Time was of the essence; he had to rescue Yang Jin as quickly as possible.
The two swiftly climbed out of the window, disappearing into the night.
---
Under the cover of darkness, Sun Wukong and Lin Qiye moved silently, sprinting through the night and vanishing into the streets and alleys of Cangnan City with a few leaps.
"We must hurry," Sun Wukong said gravely as they ran. "Otherwise, it will be too late!"
"Where is the altar?" Lin Qiye asked urgently, his clothes rustling as he ran.
Sun Wukong tilted his head slightly, a glint of light flashing in his golden pupils. "It's in the West Suburb."
As they spoke, they arrived at an abandoned factory. The factory's doors were tightly shut and rusted, exuding an eerie atmosphere.
He could feel a powerful and mysterious force permeating the Factory, sending a shiver down his spine.
The two exchanged a glance, then silently crept toward the Factory's entrance. "I’m not exactly sure what’s going on, but it’s definitely not a good place. If the Demon Face King succeeds, the consequences would be unimaginable."
Sun Wukong pushed open the Factory doors, and a wave of decay hit him like a physical force.
Inside the Factory, the light was dim, filled with abandoned machines and debris, and the air was thick with the smell of dust.
Sun Wukong hid behind a pile of discarded iron barrels and lowered his voice to explain to Lin Qiye.
Lin Qiye's brow furrowed tightly, his fists clenched so hard they cracked. "We can't let him succeed!"
"I'll launch a frontal attack; you wait for the right moment to rescue Yang Jin."
Lin Qiye said nothing but quickened his pace, breathing slightly heavier.
The two moved through the darkness in silence.
"This is it." Sun Wukong stopped in his tracks. Ahead, a twisted steel skeleton loomed under the dim light like a monstrous beast, surrounded by scattered broken mechanical parts that emitted a grating sound.
The air was thick with a nauseating stench of rot. The Demon Face King stood at the center of an altar, with Yang Jin bound upon it, unconscious.
Lin Qiye gritted his teeth, determination flashing in his eyes. "No matter what, I have to save Yang Jin!"
They advanced cautiously, each step taken with extreme care.
Suddenly, a low chant echoed from deep within the Factory, resembling some ancient incantation that sent chills down their spines.
Around the altar, dozens of Demon-faced Men wielded sharp blades, while the Demon Face King chanted incantations, releasing a dark mist that gradually enveloped the entire altar.
His brother's safety filled him with anxiety; he wished he could rush in immediately and tear the Demon Face King to pieces.
"The Demon Face King wants to use Yang Jin's bloodline to awaken the slumbering ones. There are many Demon-faced Men inside, and... a very powerful mysterious aura," he whispered, his tone grave.
"Be careful," Sun Wukong warned. "There might be traps set by the Demon Face King here."
The two quickened their pace, running toward the source of the sound.
After passing through a long corridor, they arrived at a massive workshop. In the center stood a gigantic altar, where a person was bound—Yang Jin.
The Demon Face King's eyes were filled with rage and surprise. He hadn't expected Sun Wukong to find this place so quickly.
The black mist rapidly coalesced into countless Demon-faced Men, who roared as they charged at Sun Wukong.
Seeing this, Lin Qiye followed closely behind Sun Wukong and rushed out.
Wielding his Black Longsword, he swung it with lightning speed, unleashing a brilliant sword light that surged forth. The Ghost-faced Man in his hand glowed with golden light, exuding an overwhelming force as it struck down toward the altar.
He roared in anger and turned to Sun Wukong, his eyes filled with murderous intent. "Who dares to disrupt my plans?!"
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