PFC Chapter 370 White-Clad Spirit (Page 12)
Chapter 370 White-Clad Spirit (Page 12)
Lintang City, at dusk.
A rusty, dilapidated van was being violently jolted along the rugged mountain road, its body creaking and groaning as if it would fall apart at any moment.
The four wheels would occasionally lift half a meter off the ground before crashing back down, splashing up a cloud of mud.
"Fuck-!"
Inside the car, Baili Pangpang's chubby face was pressed tightly against the window, his features distorted by the pressure.
His hands gripped the seat tightly, his knuckles white, and his entire body of fat trembled wildly like jelly.
"Is this a car or a plane?!"
Another violent jolt sent Cao Yuan's head slamming against the roof of the car with a dull thud.
He gritted his teeth, veins bulging on his forehead, the power of the forbidden energy flowing uncontrollably across his body.
"Zhang Yun..." Lin Qiye's face turned pale, his fingers digging deep into the seat, "Did you take the racing license test?"
An Qingyu's situation is the worst.
He was tossed around like a rag doll, his broken glasses hanging askew on his nose, his face as pale as paper.
There were only two exceptions—
Zhang Yun, dressed in red, held the steering wheel with one hand and casually rested the other on the car window.
A pleased smile played on his lips, and his dragon eyes gleamed with excitement.
Each sharp turn brought him to a hearty laugh, as if he weren't driving a car, but on a thrilling hunt.
Meanwhile, Zhou Ping, the socially awkward swordsman, sat quietly in the passenger seat, his hands neatly placed on his knees.
He appeared calm, but upon closer inspection, one would notice that his fingertips were trembling slightly as he gripped the edge of the seat tightly.
"Crench--!"
With a screeching sound of brakes, the van came to a stop in front of a dilapidated building with a beautiful drift.
The rear of the car swept across the ground, kicking up clouds of dust.
"arrive."
Zhang Yun casually pushed open the car door, his red clothes fluttering in the setting sun. He turned to look at the people slumped over inside the car, a bright smile on his face.
"The base of Team 008, the 'Daylight' Detective Agency."
"vomit--""
Baili Pangpang was the first to jump out of the car and kneel down by the roadside, vomiting uncontrollably.
His fat face turned bright red, and his face was covered in tears and snot.
"I...I swear..." he weakly raised his middle finger, "I will never...ride in Zhang Yun's car again in my life..."
Cao Yuan staggered out of the car, his legs weak.
He leaned against a telephone pole, the swelling on his forehead clearly visible.
Even he, who was usually taciturn, couldn't help but swear at this moment:
"Damn... this is even more torturous than the sword energy tide..."
Lin Qiye suppressed the dizziness and tried his best to maintain the dignity of the captain.
But his steps were unsteady, and his face was as pale as paper; he was clearly not feeling well.
An Qingyu slumped down on the roadside, her eyes glazed over.
His data analysis skills were completely useless at this moment, and he could only pant heavily like a rag doll.
"Tsk."
Zhang Yun crossed his arms and looked disgusted: "That's because your physical strength is too weak."
"Bullshit!" Baili Pangpang jumped up, pointing at Zhang Yun's nose and yelling, "It's clearly because you were driving too recklessly! This is a mountain road, not a racetrack!"
“Exactly!” Cao Yuan rarely agreed. “Do you think you’re piloting a fighter jet?”
Even the usually calm Lin Qiye couldn't help but complain, "That 180-degree fishtail just now, the tires were smoking, okay?"
The most surprising thing is—
Zhou Ping, the socially awkward swordsman, silently walked to the side of the group and nodded almost imperceptibly.
This simple action stunned everyone.
It's worth noting that this person, considered the pinnacle of human achievement, is known for being extremely sparing with words and would never engage in such pointless debates.
And now, he has actually shown his support for everyone through his actions!
Zhang Yun exaggeratedly clutched his chest, making a hurt expression: "Even the Sword Saint says so, it's so heartbreaking~"
But soon, he regained his nonchalant smile and turned to walk towards the dilapidated building.
“Let’s go, brothers.” He waved without turning his head. “Let’s show Squad 008 what a real ‘Night Watchman’ looks like.”
The setting sun cast a long shadow of him, and his red clothes fluttered in the wind like a battle flag.
Lin Qiye took a deep breath and forcefully suppressed the churning in his stomach.
He looked at the seemingly ordinary old building, his eyes gradually sharpening.
008 Squad, 'Daylight' Detective Agency.
Their goal for this trip.
The afterglow of the setting sun shone on the dilapidated detective agency, and the words "Daylight Detective Agency" on the mottled signboard were faintly visible.
Lin Qiye, hands in his pockets, squinted as he surveyed the unassuming building, his voice deep and magnetic:
"I heard that the 008 team are all reasoning fanatics. They love to be detectives in their spare time, playing reasoning games and taking on detective jobs all day long."
His fingertips unconsciously stroked his chin, lost in thought.
"The team's culture is quite good."
Cao Yuan stood aside with his arms crossed, and unusually, he spoke up in agreement.
His cold, handsome face appeared exceptionally profound in the setting sun, and the power of the forbidden realm flowed subtly within his body.
"Cultural development?"
Jialan tilted her head, her long, silvery-white hair dancing lightly in the wind. Her amber eyes were filled with confusion, like a bewildered little animal.
“It’s…” Lin Qiye paused, thinking about how to explain, “the shared pursuits and style of a group of like-minded people.”
Jialan nodded as if he understood, then suddenly blinked his big eyes and asked:
"So what kind of culture do we have?"
The air suddenly solidified.
The group looked at each other, speechless for a moment. The setting sun cast long shadows of them, creating a silent silhouette on the ground.
"Uh..."
The cigarette butt dangling from Shen Qingzhu's lips flickered between light and shadow, and his expression was somewhat awkward amidst the swirling smoke.
"Well..."
An Qingyu pushed up her broken glasses, her eyes behind the lenses gleaming with calculating light, yet she couldn't give an answer for a long time.
"I thought of it!"
Suddenly, Baili Pangpang slapped his thigh, his fat face gleaming with intelligence. He waved his hands excitedly, spittle flying everywhere:
"We are Zhang Lin Culture!"
"..."
Deathly silence.
Everyone turned their heads in unison, staring at Baili Pangpang with looks of utter disbelief. Even Zhou Ping, who was usually expressionless, couldn't help but twitch his lips.
"Huh?" Shen Qingzhu's cigarette butt fell to the ground.
“Zhang Lin Culture?” Cao Yuan’s brows furrowed so deeply they could trap a fly.
Lin Qiye rubbed his forehead and sighed helplessly: "Fatty, is your brain filled with nothing but fat?"
"No!" Baili Pangpang jumped up and down anxiously. "Think about it! Zhang Yun is always speeding and risking his life, and Lin Qiye is always going all out. Isn't this the 'Zhang' 'Kuang' 'Lin' 'Xian' culture? In short, it's Zhang-Lin culture!"
"..."
A longer silence.
Zhang Yun, dressed in black, appeared behind the group at some unknown time, his dragon eyes flashing with a dangerous light.
He elegantly twirled the camera in his hand, a cold smile playing on his lips:
"Excellent analysis, Baili."
"Do you want me to 'record' how you got beaten into a real 'fat' culture?"
Baili Pangpang instantly shrank behind Zhou Ping, his fat trembling: "Sword Saint, save me!"
Zhou Ping silently moved a step to the side, showing with his actions that he was not involved in the matter.
"All right."
Lin Qiye rubbed his temples, forcibly steer the conversation back on track.
His gaze suddenly sharpened, and the power of the [Mortal God Realm] within his body surged quietly. The surrounding air seemed to be distorted by some invisible force, and the light around him was slightly deflected, forming a hazy starlight.
"Regardless of culture, our goal today is—"
His voice was deep and cold, each word sounding as if it had been carved from an ice cellar.
"Let Squad 008 see what a real 'Night Watchman' is like!"
As soon as he finished speaking, an invisible pressure suddenly spread out, and the dust on the ground trembled slightly, as if even the air itself was afraid of his will.
"Baili Pangpang, go knock on the door." Lin Qiye glanced at him, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Be a little more imposing, don't embarrass us!"
"Alright!!!" Baili Pangpang grinned, rubbed his hands together, swaggered to the door, cleared his throat, struck an arrogant pose, and slammed his foot on the door—
"boom!!"
The door panel shook violently, and dust fell in clumps.
"Squad 008! Come out and greet our guests!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "Your grandpa Lin Qiye has brought his men to challenge us!"
"Hey! Fatty, is this how you knock on the door? Is this your class? Are you some kind of street thug?" Zhang Yun in red was speechless.
Baili Pangpang scratched his head, "Then what should I do? Can someone teach me?"
Everyone: "..."
Zhang Yun, dressed in red, waved his hand dismissively, "Fine, whatever. Someone as hopeless as you can't be taught!"
Baili Pangpang: “???”
"I'll continue then!" he said angrily.
"They're out! They're out! Giving away TV series, washing machines, and amazing prizes!"
Dead silence.
There was no response, not even the slightest sound.
Baili Pangpang frowned and pounded on the door a few more times, the sound echoing in the empty hallway.
Hey! Stop playing dead!
Still no one answered.
He turned to look at the crowd, shrugged, and asked innocently, "Did they go home on vacation?"
"..."
The air froze for a moment.
The next second—
"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Shen Qingzhu's forehead veins bulged, and she almost bit off the cigarette in her mouth.
"The entire Night Watch squad is on leave?" Cao Yuan's face was cold, and his voice was low. "Do you think that's possible?"
Lin Qiye's gaze suddenly darkened, and the perception of the [Mortal Divine Realm] quietly spread out, attempting to probe the atmosphere inside the room.
However, just as his mental energy touched the door panel—
"Something's wrong."
Zhang Yun, dressed in red, instantly lost his playful expression, his dragon eyes narrowed slightly, and his nose twitched gently.
"It smells like blood."
His voice was soft, yet it instantly changed everyone's expression.
"boom--!"
Without saying a word, Lin Qiye kicked open the door, sending wood chips flying and the lock shattering.
The group rushed in after them, immediately greeted by a strong smell of rust.
The taste of blood.
It was so strong it was nauseating.
The lobby on the first floor was deserted, but there were several drag marks on the floor that led down to the stairs.
"Go upstairs!" Lin Qiye shouted, his figure moving like lightning as he instantly rushed up to the second floor.
Then--
They saw hell.
The conference room on the second floor was a complete mess.
Tables and chairs were overturned, the walls were covered with vicious claw marks and sword marks, and the ceiling was torn apart by some enormous force, revealing black steel bars.
On the floor, six corpses lay sprawled haphazardly, blood flowing freely, almost soaking the entire carpet.