Another figure emerged from behind the group. The others parted without a word, making way for her like loyal disciples before a queen. She stepped forward, slowly, deliberately. A black hoodie draped over her slender frame—except this one wasn't ordinary. Red tribal markings snaked across the fabric like cursed veins.
She stopped before Shan Wolf.
Without speaking, she pulled down the hood. A woman's face was revealed—sharp, hauntingly beautiful, with golden, dark-ringed eyes that glinted like molten metal. Her faded crimson bob cut framed a face both elegant and dangerous. Beneath the hoodie, she wore a sleek business suit, tailored and authoritative.
Her gaze rose to meet Shan's.
"Greetings, Shan Wolf," she said in a teasing, venom-laced voice.
Shan didn't lower his guard. If anything, he raised it higher.
She offered him a slight bow, then straightened.
"I'm Xiang Mei Li," she said in a seductive, silky tone—one designed to tempt, to disarm. "We've come to bring you home… to Mother."
Shan's eyes narrowed.
"My mother's name. Say it," he demanded coldly.
Xiang Mei Li froze. Her eyes locked onto his, unreadable and hollow. Not a blink. Not a breath. She stood as if shackled by unseen forces—either bound by loyalty or broken by belief.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, barely audible. "But I cannot say—urk!"
A blur of motion. Shan drove his foot into her gut and sent her flying through a wall with bone-shattering force.
"I don't have a mother," he growled. "She died when I was just an infant."
Xiang Mei Li coughed blood, slowly rising from the rubble, a crooked smile splitting her face.
"Hehehe… As expected… from Mother's firstborn… before death," she muttered darkly.
She snapped her fingers.
Forty-nine out of the fifty cloaked figures charged toward Shan.
"Tch," Shan scoffed.
He twisted his body, punching one attacker, flipping another. His momentum flowed like a storm. Another hooded assailant lunged with a cane-sized weapon, long as a spear.
Shan grinned.
He sprinted forward, stepping on heads, leaping off shoulders, and drove his knee into the spear-wielder's face.
"Thanks for the cane, fool," he smirked, snatching the weapon mid-air and spinning it.
He planted his feet and faced the mob.
"Come on…"
They rushed him.
One by one, Shan dismantled them. A blur of cane strikes, shattered ribs, broken jaws. Bodies dropped around him like crumpled paper.
From a distance, Xiang Mei Li moaned softly, clutching herself in ecstasy. "Ah… so manly… so absolute… Mother's child…"
Shan glanced at her, disturbed. This bitch is crazy.
An idea sparked. He slammed the cane into the ground, vaulted into the air, and spun—kicking in a perfect wheel-like motion, knocking back attackers like bowling pins.
Landing in a crouch, he launched himself forward again, crashing into the mob, tearing through them like a beast of vengeance. Blood sprayed. Bones cracked.
He stood amidst the broken heap, chest heaving.
"Hah… hah… hah…"
From the shadows, Xiang Mei Li began clapping.
"Clap, clap, clap… Bravo. Enchanté. Excellente, mi amor…" she purred, eyes veined, blushing, drooling—utterly intoxicated by his violence.
Shan walked toward her. His footsteps were heavy with purpose. He reached out, grabbed her throat, and slammed her into the wall.
Her feet left the ground as he pinned her there, eyes burning.
"Urk… uk… yes! That's it!" she moaned. "Unleash your true demon, Shan!"
"Last time," he growled, his voice deep with fury, "How in the fuck do you think I have a mother?"
Xiang Mei Li laughed—a high, mad cackle.
"Oh, you gullible unholy one!" Her voice suddenly shifted, turning cold, dead serious. "Let's make one thing clear, little boy. You can't run. You can't hide. In the end—your power belongs to Mother."
Shan's grip trembled, rage boiling. He knew what she meant.
His curse. His power to reverse time—only by dying.
"Until then," Xiang Mei Li whispered, "enjoy Mother's gift."
BOOM—!
The building exploded.
A 5-kilometer radius vanished in flames.
"See you around, Unholy One!"
Xiang Mei Li kicked him away. Fire engulfed her.
She laughed as she burned.
"AAAA…HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"
Shan hit the ground hard, rolling in fire and screams. The street—his battleground—was now hell. Innocents were incinerated. The massacre was total.
"That bitch…!" Shan muttered.
He staggered forward, into the flames.
"RRRAAAGGHHHH!!!!"
The fire consumed him.
Death. Again.
Shan's eyes opened.
He stood in the street once more. Behind him was the same hotel. Ingrid was gone. Time had reversed. But not the memory.
He looked around.
The occult was still watching.
"Hmph. I'll make sure this ends… personally."
From a rooftop, Xiang Mei Li watched, her figure untouched by flame.
"Hehe… not calling out?" she mused. "As expected. Died and came back."
She signaled to the others. Silently, they vanished into the night.
That night, tragedy struck the city.
But thanks to Shan Wolf's cursed gift, time reversed by death, countless lives were spared.
This wasn't a fight nor a war.
This was personal.
---
Chapter 42 — End.