A shout of "Swindler!" ripped through the crowd, and the group, which had just started to disperse, suddenly came alive again. Every head snapped back, sleeves rolled up, as they charged toward the pile of compressed biscuits and water stacked like a small mountain. Some shouted as they ran, "Take it!" "They're playing tricks on us!" "If we don't teach them a lesson, they'll fool us again next time!" "No time to waste—taking some of this stuff is payment for us being extras all afternoon."

And so, a battle for biscuits erupted. All eighty or ninety people surged forward in unison. Even those who had been planning to just call it a day and head home to sleep, seeing the mass of people rushing toward the pale-skinned men, couldn't resist the excitement and joined the ranks of those intent on "robbing the rich to help the poor."

Strangely, the pale-skinned men, seeing such a massive crowd bearing down on them, showed no fear. Instead, a sinister smile spread across their faces. That exact smile was perfectly visible to Zhang Yuqiu and Xiao Shu, who were standing at a distance. Xiao Shu found his reaction baffling, but Zhang Yuqiu gasped, "Not good, we've run into an old enemy!"

"What enemy?" Xiao Shu asked, somewhat confused and only half-understanding.

Zhang Yuqiu glanced around, spotting a gasoline drum tucked into the corner by the wall. He pulled Xiao Shu into the narrow space between the drum and the wall to hide, whispering urgently, "You'll know soon enough. But whatever you do, don't let him spot the two of us, or things will get very messy."

As they spoke, a piercing scream suddenly echoed from the pile of rubble. Xiao Shu initially thought the pale-skinned man had been injured. He cautiously peered out, only to see that the pale-skinned man had somehow procured a sickle. He was hacking mercilessly at the crowd of old and young who had rushed forward, left and right, just as one would chop firewood. He only stopped once no one dared advance another step, and the rubble heap had transformed into a mound of corpses. A few remaining daredevils stood watching from a distance, trembling, but when their eyes met his, one immediately collapsed, and the remaining two or three spun around and fled. The pale-skinned man moved like a phantom, his speed faster than the wind, blocking the path of the "escapees" in the blink of an eye. Sickle raised, sickle struck—one man, one blade, every blow fatal.

Seeing this, Xiao Shu finally understood what Zhang Yuqiu meant by an "old enemy." Without needing further investigation, this pale-skinned man must be one of those who had obtained the Shengsi Qiyue (Life and Death Contract). He had deliberately gathered the crowd through the auction to conduct a mass wholesale slaughter, wiping out at least seventy or eighty people in one go. The remaining dozen or twenty incomplete tasks would only require hiding somewhere on a street corner and hacking down anyone they saw—exactly what Li Bingyu had done before.

"Hey," Xiao Shu nudged Zhang Yuqiu’s shoulder with his elbow and said with dead seriousness, "Should we tell him the truth about the Undying Body, so he won't choose to become a killing machine..." Before he could finish, Zhang Yuqiu clapped a hand over his mouth and motioned for silence, simultaneously pointing ahead.

When Xiao Shu turned his gaze back, he saw the same few individuals who had bid on the clothing earlier emerging from somewhere unknown. They approached the pale-skinned man with expressions of congratulation: "This is much better; now we can be friends forever." "You can also go do what you really want to do, without worrying about running out of time." One of the young men stepped close to the pale-skinned man and announced loudly, "Go on, kill anyone you dislike. Then, kick their corpse and say, 'I am Death's messenger, sent to drag you to hell.'" As he spoke, he mimicked the motion of a sword stroke with his hand, making a chopping gesture.