"Oho? How interesting. How very interesting!"

The man in the black clothes and colorful painted mask let out an exaggerated gasp as he witnessed the moment Zheng Xiu’s and Feng Bei’s hands touched. Yet his movements never paused. The scissor-like weapon in his hand flashed out repeatedly, tearing the night before him to shreds. The rent fabric of the night was forcefully partitioned into individual spaces, separating the group.

At that moment, Zheng Xiu suddenly felt a pull from his Main Body; the range of his Divine Travel was being restricted. The bizarre spaces torn open by his opponent’s scissor-like weapon seemed to weaken his "connection" to Feng Bei, hampering his Divine Travel to some extent.

"I’d only heard that monster took a liking to you, but I never heard you could touch it and walk away unscathed. How strange! How bizarre! How utterly peculiar! Just who in the world are you?!"

The man in the colorful mask leaped from the distant city wall. Beneath his feet, inky black shadows unfurled, paving several "shadow roads" in mid-air. Treading upon this path of his own making, he rapidly closed in on Zheng Xiu.

Zheng Xiu now found himself trapped by towering walls of shadow. The shadowy ramparts shifted back and forth, rose and fell, forcibly confining the small area around him into an irregular room.

The five who had descended from Yunliu Temple were separated by the high walls of shadow. Because Yue Yan and Zheng Xiu had been standing close together, they were trapped in the same section.

Zheng Xiu and Yue Yan fell silent at the same time.

Both stared intently at the other’s chest.

The newcomer was dressed in a fitted Cloud-Sleeved Black Robe, and two words were scrawled across his chest in a wild, cursive script.

—"Upper Four"!

Yue Yan’s astonishment was plain on her face. Seeing the words on his chest clearly, she asked, stunned, "Upper Four, Shadow Puppetry, Jun Buxiao... Why?"

"Ah?" The man in the painted mask, whom Yue Yan had called Jun Buxiao, threw up his hands and feigned dramatic disbelief. "My, my, what is all this? Did you not receive the Night Lord’s secret mission?" Without waiting for Yue Yan’s reply, Jun Buxiao waved to someone below. "Little Tangtang, you never told me about this! I was under the impression these two Constellations were on our side!"

Below, a section of shadow peeled away like wallpaper, revealing another person in black. He wore the same fitted, Cloud-Sleeved Black Robe, a Black Scabbard Long Saber hanging from his waist. Though he hadn’t flamboyantly emblazoned his codename across his chest like Jun Buxiao, the Black Iron Wood Order at his hip and the name Jun Buxiao had called out allowed Yue Yan to instantly deduce the identity of the man who had been hiding in the shadows.

"Lower Four, Immovable Saber, Gu Qiutang!"

Gu Qiutang frowned, clearly displeased by the name "Little Tangtang." However, he didn’t lash out, replying calmly, "The Night Lord’s plans have always been difficult to fathom."

"Right then! Understood, understood, understood! Hehehe!" Jun Buxiao bobbed his head, chanting the word three times in a rhythmic, operatic tone. As if just then remembering the two people trapped in his Shadow Puppetry, an exaggerated laugh boomed from behind his painted mask. "My dear brother, no need to panic. Our target this time is only that monster called Feng Bei. As long as you stand here quietly and don’t move a muscle, I guarantee your safety. Xiao Yueyue, you may be new, but you should understand our Ye Weiyang’s way. We don’t like to harm the innocent... unless, of course, we are absolutely forced to!"

Zheng Xiu, who had remained silent since Jun Buxiao and Gu Qiutang’s appearance, suddenly had a change of expression. He slapped a palm straight at Yue Yan’s chest.

"PFFT!"

Caught completely off guard, Yue Yan took the palm strike to her chest. With a muffled grunt, she was sent flying backward, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.

Zheng Xiu roared, his voice twisted with fury, "You actually betrayed us?! May you die a horrible death!"

Yue Yan clutched her chest, crying out in pain as Zheng Xiu’s strike sent her flying dozens of paces away. Her back slammed into the high wall of shadow, which rippled like dark water.

Yue Yan stared in disbelief at Zheng Xiu, who now stood alone, her expression one of utter shock.

’She wasn’t surprised that "Machoman Zheng Shan" had attacked her.’

’Nor was it because Machoman Zheng Shan had slapped her on the chest.’

’It was because the tone of Zheng Shan’s furious roar had been strange, unnatural.’

’Anyone else would have just assumed his tone was distorted by rage, that he had lost his composure.’

’But Yue Yan, with her dual identity, discerned a different meaning in that altered tone.’

’It was a signal from the Zheng Brothers Association’s secret codes—one that was rarely used, but that every Assassin of the Brotherhood knew by heart: the "Last Stand Whistle"!’

’Once someone used the Last Stand Whistle, it meant the situation had become critical. The signaler would then find a way to publicly sever all ties with the Zheng Family!’

The astonished Yue Yan slid down the shadow wall, her mind instantly racing and in utter turmoil.

’Why did Zheng Shan know the Brotherhood’s secret codes so well?’

’Why would he use the "Last Stand Whistle"?’

’What was he planning to do?’