Die, Replay, Repeat

Chapter 81: Too Weak

"This is impossible! To unleash such powerful Specter strength is not something a first-tier psychic can do with his weak body! The Specter power should have transformed him into a monster immediately. Why hasn't he mutated yet?"

At that moment, Fang Xiu moved. He swiftly swung his scalpel, slicing off the tip of the silver spike in a flash, scattering silver strands all around. He continued to slash, as if he intended to chop the entire silver spike into pieces, much like a chef slicing potatoes.

Wang Erni seemed enraged, waving the silver spikes from all directions at Fang Xiu. However, this only resulted in shorter and shorter hair. The sound of the scalpel clashing against the silver strands grew more intense.

"Too weak! Too weak! Why can't you entertain me more!" A distorted voice came from Fang Xiu. His face was shrouded in darkness, looking horribly twisted, with a blood-red eye shining. He wasn't a Specter, yet definitely more terrifying than one.

He swung his blade faster and faster, almost reaching Wang Erni as she yelled, "Iron Slave, kill him now!"

A muscular man roared like a tiger, lunging at Fang Xiu.

At first, Fang Xiu was too fast for him, a tank-like fighter, to catch up. But now, with Fang Xiu's speed reduced from cutting the hair, Iron Slave saw an opportunity.

However, when Iron Slave reached Fang Xiu, raising his huge fist to crush his skull, Fang Xiu didn't even glance at him.

In a flash of silver light, a line of blood appeared on Iron Slave's neck. He then fell, eyes wide with rage and veins bulging. He began to convulse as if in extreme pain.

"Did something just come over here?" Fang Xiu wondered in the smoke, continuing to cut hair.

Wang Yanran watched in shock. Iron Slave was a psychic puppet of hers, with 15% of his Spiritual Energy awakened.

He also had a steel skin ability. His skin was as hard as steel, impossible for normal weapons to cut through.

Because of this ability, Iron Slave's defense, vitality, and strength were incredibly impressive. Now, however, Fang Xiu had easily defeated him without even a glance.

In fact, Fang Xiu's ability was a perfect counter to Iron Slave, a typical tank fighter with high defense, a long health bar, and great strength.

Fang Xiu was more like an assassin, with high attack power, low health, and quick speed. Normally, a confrontation between two such types would last for a while.

But Fang Xiu's attack power was extraordinarily high. His scalpel, having sliced through numerous Specters in the psychiatric hospital, was exceptionally sharp. With his scalpel, Iron Slave's steel skin was like a hot knife through butter. That was why Iron Slave met such a clean and swift end.

As Fang Xiu continued his onslaught, Wang Erni's silver hair got shorter and shorter, and the distance between them closed.

Suddenly, Wang Erni screamed, emitting intense Spiritual Energy waves. The ground shook, and the sound of waves hitting the shore came from the direction of the Blackwater River. A hundred-meter-long dragon, formed entirely from river water, roared behind Fang Xiu.

It was as if Fang Xiu had eyes on his back. He didn't even turn his head. He lightly tapped the ground and soared into the air, elegantly arcing under the night sky, avoiding the water dragon and landing gracefully.

Wang Erni swung her arms, and the water dragon turned sharply toward Fang Xiu.

With a sinister smile, Fang Xiu charged toward the water dragon. Just as they were about to collide, he leaped lightly, narrowly avoiding the dragon's attack and landing atop its head.

He continued his assault, effortlessly moving along the dragon's body as if walking on solid ground. Illuminated by the bright moonlight, his scalpel trailed a long silver afterimage in the night sky.

In just a moment, he had moved from the dragon's head to its tail, clearly targeting Wang Erni near the tail.

Wang Erni, now a puppet, showed no emotion on her face. But Wang Yanran, watching from afar, was terrified. She had witnessed the power of the scalpel, which had instantly killed Iron Slave. Despite Wang Erni being a second-tier psychic, her physical strength was no match for Iron Slave. If Wang Erni were to get close, it would surely be another one-hit kill.

This was something Wang Yanran couldn't accept. After all, Wang Erni was her newly acquired, powerful puppet. Losing her to Fang Xiu would be a heartache she'd carry forever. Moreover, if Wang Erni, her strongest fighter, died, her own death wouldn't be far behind.

Therefore, as Fang Xiu rapidly closed in, both Wang Yanran and Wang Erni took action. Wang Yanran lifted the slit of her wine-red long dress, revealing a row of shiny silver throwing knives strapped to her fair thigh.

The throwing knives were made from Mind Steel. Although not 100% pure, each knife contained at least 50% Mind Steel.

The reason for using Mind Steel was that Wang Yanran's puppet ability allowed her to control not just people but objects as well. However, objects couldn't conduct Spiritual Energy. Only when infused with Mind Steel, which could conduct Spiritual Energy, could they be controlled.

These throwing knives were her only combat weapon aside from her puppets. Due to the nature of her abilities, she had never been strong in direct combat.

Several throwing knives, tracing elegant arcs and controlled by her puppet ability, shot toward Fang Xiu from different directions, curving in mid-air.

At the same time, Wang Erni acted. Her silver hair strands explosively grew and shot toward Fang Xiu like steel needles, covering the sky.

Fang Xiu was surrounded, with every possible escape route blocked by attacks. Those hair cut off his retreat route and seemingly sealed his life.

However, the next moment, a miraculous scene unfolded.

Fang Xiu moved, his figure ghostlike, darting and weaving through the narrow space. The dark energy swirling around him turned him almost into a black shadow, making his form nearly invisible.

Miraculously, all attacks missed him. Whether it was the sharp throwing knives or the piercing hair needles, they all narrowly missed. It was as if he could predict their trajectories. No matter how dense or fast the attacks were, he elegantly found gaps, dancing through them with ease.

For those attacks he couldn't dodge, he deftly used his scalpel to cut through them, turning into flashes of silver light under the night sky, effortlessly severing all assaults. What was a dangerously intense battlefield became, at that moment, like a stage for his solo dance."

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