Fang Senyan and the other man had roughly saturated the five areas with gasoline, and then began to continue lighting the fires. They also heard a tremendous noise emanating from within the mountain. The Black Guy's expression shifted dramatically. "That must be the sound of the rock strata on the slope collapsing and fracturing. We don't have much time left."

As he spoke, he started to move to light another fuel drum, but suddenly, an indescribable blast of frigid wind fiercely struck him. The manner of this assault was so violent that even the raindrops turned into potent weapons, stinging the Black Guy’s face with sharp pitter-patter sounds, forcing him to squeeze his eyes shut in pain.

Yet, the Black Guy reacted with remarkable speed. As this attack bore down on him, a bizarre phenomenon occurred, as if he were merely a feather drifting on water. Any powerful punch thrown at him would be difficult to land solidly, the resulting ripple of the shockwave instead pushing the feather sideways.

This strike merely agitated the air, stirring up a few fleeting streaks of bloody light. However, at the critical moment, the Black Guy’s AK sprang to life with a crisp da-da-da, sending dozens of sharp tongues of fire, blazing with blinding light, crisscrossing through the air—it felt as if even the darkness itself was being ripped apart.

Those bullets danced erratically in the air, seemingly chaotic, yet skillfully weaving a cage that imprisoned the shadow flowing like the wind. It appeared utterly unfazed by the projectiles, but upon impact, the bullets immediately detonated violently. Raging flames enveloped the area, leaving the entity nowhere to hide!

The Black Guy continued to roll, then sprang toward Fang Senyan. While running and leaping, he triggered the firing mechanism again: da-da-da-da-da-da. As if in slow motion playback, seven or eight shell casings drifted out languidly. Again, seven or eight lines of burning fire shot forth, intersecting in the void.

This time, the black shadow dared not be complacent. It stopped dead, its right hand lightly sweeping out. The fingernail on its index finger suddenly flared with a fierce brilliance, carving a straight line that split each incoming bullet precisely in half. Its fingers moved ceaselessly, finally severing every bullet the Black Guy had fired, sending them clattering to the ground with ding-ding-dang sounds.

But what followed immediately was a dark, oval object hurled through the air. Just as it prepared to reach out again, the rifle grenade, its detonation timer set, exploded with a deafening boom! A massive plume of gold and crimson erupted in the darkness, and a small mushroom cloud momentarily rose from the spot!

The black shadow let out a pained groan and tumbled away, wreathed in flame. The Black Guy, after one roll, landed, rose back up into a perfectly standard kneeling-and-shooting stance, and continued to pull the trigger.

Even though the enemy had retreated into a nearby blind spot, sparks flew and scattered. The Black Guy’s specialty was back: those bullets collided in mid-air, constantly changing trajectory, actually refracting into the concealment area! This unnatural style of attack instantly elicited a string of enraged cries from the dead angle!

However, the Black Guy suddenly froze, because he distinctly felt an indescribable chill spread across his neck—five fingers, cold as the touch of the dead, rested lightly against his carotid artery. The nails on these fingers felt as hard and sharp as metal blades. A voice, a woman’s voice whispering as if in close proximity, drifted out long and low: "Such a powerful human is rare indeed. The taste of your blood must be exceptionally fresh. Drop the gun, outsider, if you still wish to draw breath…"

The woman’s voice stopped abruptly right there, because her entire body began to tremble violently. An indescribable sensation radiated from her temple—a feeling so hot, so dangerous, so scalding, as if the light of the scorching sun had been compressed a million times over!

Pressing against her temple was an ancient, silver-white firearm, yet it possessed the chilling majesty of the Bastille prison!

Fang Senyan, at some unknown moment, had grasped The Verdict, driving it hard against the temple of the mysterious black shadow that held the Black Guy’s neck!

Because the surrounding fire had become furious, it was possible to see that the head pinned by Fang Senyan’s The Verdict belonged to a woman with short brown hair, positioned in a strange, half-kneeling, half-crouching posture that evoked images of a bat. In the flickering firelight, her forehead was slick with cold sweat, her teeth white and sharply pointed, and the spot where Fang Senyan's muzzle was fixed was covered in goosebumps. Her fingers were twitching uncontrollably—it was clear that the pressure exerted by The Verdict had reached a terrifying degree!

"What is that thing?" a voice suddenly emerged from the darkness, mixed with terror and fury. "We must save Alice!"

"Stop! Do you want Alice dead? If she is hit even once, there will be no coming back for her!" another voice replied, equally angry but laced with reason. The fire intensified slightly, and Fang Senyan’s pupils contracted slightly as he saw a tall, gaunt young man with unnaturally pale skin standing in the gloom. His eyes flashed, and he immediately tested the waters: "Mr. Edward Cullen? I have no intention of making an enemy of anyone, and I believe every living creature deserves the right to exist. This situation arose purely from a misunderstanding."

The tall, handsome youth looked surprised. "You know my name?"

Fang Senyan smiled faintly. "To show my sincerity, I can first allow your sister, Alice Cullen, to leave. But I hope to meet your parent, Mr. Carlisle, as soon as possible, because time is precious not only for us, but for every resident of this town."

"I am already here." A kind man with a peaceful gaze, his blond hair slicked back into a severe style, appeared.

Fang Senyan retracted The Verdict, making the immensely powerful and intimidating weapon vanish before their eyes. The Alice Cullen whose head had been held hostage let out a sharp, relieved shriek and instantly vanished into the family compound across the way.

Fang Senyan stood up, looking calmly at Carlisle. "Let’s be brief. Like you, I possess considerable power, and I am accustomed to using it for salvation. This small town will be swallowed by a terrible mudslide in a matter of minutes. There are always those lucky fools unwilling to evacuate, which is why I have to set their houses on fire to force them out."

"After saving the villagers, we will leave and will not disturb your peaceful existence... That is the situation. Next, we must continue setting fires. If you agree with my view, then I welcome assistance. If you choose to stand idly by, I am equally content. But if anyone attempts to obstruct me, then they become my enemy! Even a powerful vampire!"

As he spoke the last sentence, the illusion of the Sun's Zenith flickered behind Fang Senyan, and the terrifying, immense dark power writhed wildly, threatening to overshadow the heavens! Then Fang Senyan turned, shook his lighter, and set another house nearby ablaze.

Although the Cullen family vampires were powerful, when faced with an enemy wielding unknown power, their first choice was caution, not combat. Even though Edward Cullen was eager for a fight, his father stopped him: "If we go to war with these two, even if we kill them, at least two of us will perish. That weapon... although I have never seen it, nor heard of such an artifact, its power to suppress our kind is absolutely no less than the holy relics enshrined in the Vatican for a thousand years! Are you willing to decide the survival of our entire family based on a moment of indignation? Furthermore, more importantly, their power involves more than just two people!"

At that moment, another colossal crack sounded from the mountain, an ear-splitting noise as if an item of clothing had been torn a million times louder. The superior senses of the vampires could perceive that the sturdy, towering red pines on the distant slope were being crumpled like dough and rolling down frantically.

This ominous phenomenon, coupled with his father's warning, extinguished the combat intentions of the Cullen family. The volunteers also began to shout and retreat from the scene, having done what they could.

The rumbling sound seemed like muffled thunder rolling down from the horizon. The mudslide began to take shape gradually, starting small and widening rapidly, savagely stripping away the ground wherever it passed—its world-destroying power seemed poised to sweep across heaven and earth!

When faced with such a natural disaster, every person, every living creature, could only feel their own insignificance—a speck of dust in the vast ocean, utterly inconsequential! But now, there were still more than ten town residents gathered in the plaza. They had previously huddled fearfully in the storm, muttering and cursing those who disturbed their slumber and burned their homes with the most venomous language.

But now, they had all collapsed onto the ground, their minds blank. Given the speed of the mudslide, it would engulf the entire town in two minutes at most. Where could they possibly flee now?

Suddenly, a Ford F-150 roared out of the darkness, slamming to a halt before them like a wild beast. The screeching brakes and the smoke kicked up by the tires were clearly visible even in the pouring rain. Fang Senyan and the Black Guy jumped out, tossing the stunned survivors into the open rear bed of the truck as if they were sacks of grain.

Even though there were still more than ten people, they managed to toss everyone into the truck bed—one person held in each hand—in a mere four or five seconds. Though some fell and bruised their heads severely, they paid no mind to it now. (To be continued...)