Kamila's hand instantly regenerated, her gaze toward Harman now filled with wariness.
This man hadn’t even lifted a finger to defend himself—just the passive反弹 damage from his equipment had shattered her entire arm.
Though Kamila couldn’t die as long as the city remained in chaos, she had no desire to fight a monster like Harman.
With a shrill screech, black liquid oozed from the gaps in her clothing, writhing like living creatures before morphing into grotesque monsters that lunged at Harman with ear-piercing shrieks.
At the same time, several hulking, shirtless brutes smashed through the windows, charging into the room and launching a frenzied assault on Harman.
Though these creatures looked unremarkable, their strength was nothing to scoff at—each punch sent tremors through Harman’s defenses.
While they couldn’t breach his defenses outright, their combined assault kept him too occupied to focus on Kamila.
Kamila shot Harman a venomous glare before turning to flee through the back door.
The resentment she’d absorbed so far wasn’t nearly enough. She was no match for Harman now, but once this city plunged into utter despair, she would return as a nightmare incarnate to settle the score.
By then, Harman would pay dearly for his arrogance.
He wouldn’t even qualify to be her husband anymore—no, he’d be reduced to a foot-washing slave!
*Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!*
Seven streaks of crimson-black sword energy pierced through the walls, nailing Kamila to the spot with pinpoint accuracy. A scream of agony tore from her throat.
**"Ghostblade Path: Seven Stars!"**
Only after the sword energy struck did a voice echo from above.
Then it rang out again:
**"Ghostblade Path: Falling Star!"**
A figure in a white lab coat descended like a meteor, wreathed in dark-red energy. The upper half of the villa disintegrated like charred paper, scattering into nothingness.
A longsword coiled with a river of blood slashed across Kamila’s waist. The ground within a five-meter radius caved in instantly, her body obliterated under the crushing sword pressure—only her tiny feet and the upper half of her head remained intact.
*"Hah... finally found you. Looks like I’m not too late."*
Wen Wen stomped down on the remaining half of her skull, crushing it to paste.
Meanwhile, Harman had already dispatched his attackers. He spoke rapidly, warning Wen Wen, *"Be careful—this woman’s regenerative abilities are insane!"*
Wen Wen didn’t need the reminder. He’d already sensed the anomaly—new flesh was sprouting from the severed feet.
This time, Kamila’s form had twisted into something barely humanoid. Her black leather outfit had vanished, replaced by a skeletal armor of black bone.
The design was *economical*, to say the least—only the bare essentials were covered, leaving the rest of her skin exposed, smooth as a newborn’s.
The three wings of hair now had black bones for support, making her appear far more formidable than before.
Fear Beasts were monsters born from human terror.
In Baydia’s current state, she would only grow stronger!
Yet Wen Wen’s focus wasn’t on her power. Instead, he found her bone armor oddly alluring—he made a mental note to commission matching sets for Hu Youling and Tao Qingqing later.
As for the three asymmetrical wings? They irritated his obsessive-compulsive tendencies. Maybe he could transplant them onto the Radiant Evil Angel—at least then it wouldn’t have to lug around that *five-speed electric fan* on its back.
*"Die! Just DIE!"*
Kamila’s eyes burned crimson as she swung a fist wreathed in violent black energy straight at Wen Wen’s head.
Wen Wen caught the punch effortlessly with his right hand, the energy dissipating into nothingness.
Then, with his left hand, he flicked her forehead.
*Bop.*
A surge of black energy shot from his fingertip, charring Kamila’s head to a crisp.
The energy he’d just unleashed was the same force he’d absorbed from her punch moments ago.
With her head vaporized, Kamila’s regeneration slowed noticeably.
Seizing the opportunity, Wen Wen isolated her within a barrier of dense energy, then began systematically carving her apart with ethereal black blades.
To capture a Fear Beast, one had to first cut off its energy supply, then whittle it down to a weakened state before containment.
At her core, Kamila was little more than a mass of hatred and terror—her physical form was just a facade.
At this rate, Wen Wen estimated he’d have her locked away in under ten minutes.
*"Good timing on my part. If she’d grown any stronger, she’d have been a real pain to deal with."*
Though Kamila had caused significant havoc, it paled in comparison to the catastrophe she could’ve unleashed.
As he worked, Wen Wen stole occasional glances at Harman.
He knew little about the True Sequence powerhouses of the Eastern Oil Sector, but Harman was an exception—like Wen Wen, he was something of a *celebrity* among demon hunters.
Thanks to his unique *"financial"* abilities, Harman rarely met his match among peers. He also boasted an enviable network of connections.
Wen Wen had heard the man was wealthy, but seeing his gear in person still made his jaw drop. For a brief, shameful moment, he even considered robbing him.
Though Wen Wen now commanded considerable resources, his spatial ring—looted from a monster—was downright shabby compared to Harman’s.
If Harman’s ring was a *Patek Philippe*, Wen Wen’s was a *fitness tracker*.
And the absurdity didn’t end there—Harman wore *ten* of these rings!
Every finger (and even a few toes) bore rings imbued with one or two supernatural abilities, embodying the pinnacle of *nouveau riche* extravagance.
Wen Wen wouldn’t be surprised if the man’s *loincloth* was a top-tier mystical artifact.
Harman, however, remained oblivious to Wen Wen’s internal struggle. After a courteous bow, he kept a wary eye on Kamila’s regenerating form while making a quick call.
Once done, he flashed Wen Wen a polished smile.
*"You must be the Ghost Inspector from the Huaguo Sector. I’ve heard much about you."*
*"Word is you recently thwarted those zealots’ schemes in the Holy City—I’ve always found them insufferable."*
*"And this woman harmed a friend of mine. Had you not intervened, she’d have escaped. So please accept this small token of my gratitude."*
*"Gratitude?"* Wen Wen scratched his head. *"Is ‘thank you’ all you rich folks offer?"*
No sooner had he spoken than his Hunter Terminal vibrated incessantly. When he checked, he discovered every item he’d listed for sale had been purchased within minutes.
The buyer’s ID read:
**"Big Bro’s Got Money to Spare."**