One of the groups consisted of three rugged-looking men and one, normal. They had the air of seasoned street enforcers: faces fierce, scarred with battle marks, and eyes that scanned the clearing like predators.
Each carried oversized weapons with a casual menace. One had a massive axe strapped to his back, another leaned against a sledgehammer, while a third gripped a sword tightly, glaring at the other groups with barely veiled hostility. His tongue slid over his lips in a slow, perverse motion as his gaze lingered on the group of women.
The fourth man looked nothing like the rest. Dressed like a scholar, calm and refined, he sat ahead of them, as if leading the pack. Despite his mild appearance, the other three clearly held him in reverence.
The second group consisted of three women, each a contrast to the next.
One wore white, serene as a dove. Her expression was soft, her presence modest, with the kind of face that made it hard to imagine her hurting a fly. She radiated innocence and looked almost out of place in the brewing storm.
Another was draped in black like a witch from legend, smoky eyeliner deepening her dark allure. Her beauty was undeniable, her sensual figure exaggerated like something ripped from a forbidden romance.
The third wore Red, fiery and unapologetic. Her form was the most voluptuous, her tight, revealing dress framing curves and a tiny waist with sinful precision. Her eyes blazed with a rebellious heat, and the glimpse of her small navel added a whole different kind of tension.
Together, the three looked like night, day, and flame incarnate.
The third group was smaller, just a man and a girl sitting closely with their arms intertwined. It was clear they were a couple. The girl looked extremely young, youthful glamour still fresh on her face, her wide eyes untainted by the world. She tugged gently on the man’s sleeve, nervous as her gaze flicked between the other groups.
The man, older and more composed, sat still with his eyes closed, seemingly meditating, untouched by the surrounding pressure.
Though all three groups appeared calm on the surface, the tension between them was a silent storm, Heavy and suffocating.
Time passed. The Sun began its descent, casting long shadows.
Then, something shifted.
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Roughly a mile away, in the forest ahead, the air began to twist and ripple, distorting violently. Space itself writhed, as though the void was threatening to collapse.
All eyes turned toward it. Expressions darkened, bodies tensed. Yet none of the groups dared take their attention off each other completely.
Moments later, the space tore open.
Two figures stepped out.
One was masked, clad in pure white from head to toe, like a divine being walking among mortals. His aura was light, carefree, almost ethereal.
The other was his shadowed counterpart. Long black hair flowed behind him, his dark robes a seamless extension of his cold, reserved presence.
They looked like the reincarnation of good and bad.
The two walked steadily towards the group, confidence and vigor exuding from their gait.
The group assessed them with close discernment, their penetrating gaze locked on them, trying to tear their confidence away and pressure them to succumb.
The three rugged men's murderous intent coiled back and became more reserved.
The scholarly man's eyes glinted ominously as he looked at the two, as if trying to strip their facade away.
The trio of sisters exchange glances, communicating with their eyes.
Even the calm man who had his eyes closed opened them and gazed at the two, his composure wavering slightly.
The young lady beside him was shifting nervously, her eyes stung with tears.
The big contrast of the new men seems like a psychological attack that weighs heavily on their minds.
Is it the one who acts like this is a playground they should take seriously, or the one whose eyes seem like life and death mean little to him?
They couldn't tell who the sheep or the wolf is, and such a pair is the most dangerous.
If the pressure before was that of a storm, it has now become a hurricane.
The two stopped ten meters from the group.
Jin Yu cast the crowd a brief, disinterested glance, his expression bordering on boredom.
With casual ease, a chair and table materialized before him, and he settled into the seat with effortless grace.
In his hand appeared a crimson celestial fruit, or more accurately, an apple. It radiated a soothing, almost sacred fragrance, a faint spiritual essence dancing around its glossy red surface.
Crunch.
Red juice streaked his lips as he bit into it. A faint smile curved at the corners of his mouth as he savored the flavor in utter contentment, completely ignoring the others. His entire focus rested on the fruit, as though it were the most exquisite delicacy in existence.
Seer chuckled softly, his fingers brushing his lips as that familiar glint flickered in his eyes.
A chair and table also appeared before him. Without a word, he sat down. Instead of a fruit, a porcelain tea set shimmered into existence. Moving with the calm precision of a noble son, he poured himself a cup. A gentle fragrance wafted through the air as he took a slow, refined sip.
The three groups stared in stunned silence.
Their thoughts aligned almost perfectly:
Are these two taking this for a joke?
"So," Crunch. "how long are we waiting?" Jin Yu asked mid-bite, without lifting his gaze from the fruit, even though he didn't know why they are waiting.
Seer lowered his cup slightly. "Midnight, I guess."
"Hmm." Jin Yu nodded, taking another bite.
Crunch.
"We should just take everything inside and leave immediately. I’m quite busy."
Seer gave a simple nod. "Okay."
The three groups’ lips twitched.
They said nothing.
But the system didn’t need words to reveal what burned beneath their silence
Their anger had already erupted.
Ding!
Influence +10,000
Ding!
Influence +10,000
Ding!
Influence +10,000
Ding!
Influence +10,000
Ding!
Influence +10,000
Ding!
Influence +10,000
Ding!
Influence +10,000
Ding!
Influence +10,000
Ding!
Influence +10,000
(Emotion provoked: Anger)
Ding!
Next breakthrough available!
Jin Yu almost burst into laughter.
