Chapter 135: A Hastily Assembled Team

Chapter 135: A Hastily Assembled Team The floral mountain path, winding through the jagged ridges of the Hanz Clan estate’s rear mountain, shimmered under the pale dusk light. Ruru Rosa stood tense beside Cade Barret, her emerald robes torn, revealing glimpses of her porcelain skin. Cade, his dark skin glistening with sweat, gripped his bronze shield, its runes pulsing with dark energy, his Eighth Layer aura flickering as they braced for the figure hurtling toward them from the hill’s peak. Their initial alertness gave way to shock, their breaths catching as the blur resolved into a woman, her raven-black hair adorned with fading Dao Fulus that shimmered weakly, her stunningly beautiful face marred by a terrified expression. She wore a scandalously scant blood-red dress, its audacious cut barely covering her ample, heaving breasts and the tantalizing space between her rounded thighs, exposing vast expanses of alabaster skin. The dress clung to her curves, accentuating her slender, moon-white waist, yet the sight was more harrowing than seductive, a stark contrast to her former allure. It was Shirley Quinn, the peak Ninth Layer cultivator and captain of the Suicide Squad, but a shadow of her once-captivating presence, her power and charm shattered. Shirley’s arrival sent a chill through Ruru and Cade. Gone were the vibrant butterfly Gworms that once adorned her shimmering raven hair. Her signature earrings—thumb-sized, vivid green venomous snake pendants were reduced to a single, lifeless ornament dangling from her left ear. The massive, hairy black spider gworm, once scuttling across her snow-white belly, had vanished, leaving her midriff bare. The black thick centipede gworm that had coiled around her arms was gone, as were the crimson beetle bracelets on her right wrist. Most alarmingly, her ninth-layer twin-tailed fox spirit, a ferocious demonic battle pet that had been her pride, was nowhere to be seen. Her crimson stilettos, once a symbol of her poised dominance, were gone; she ran barefoot, her crimson-painted toenails flashing with each frantic step, her once-seductive grace replaced by raw survival instinct. What terrified Ruru and Cade most was Shirley’s alabaster skin. Once fairer than fresh snow, but now marred by gruesome scars, a gaping gash on her left shoulder oozing blood, leaving a crimson trail that glistened on the stone path. "Thorn Squad!" Shirley’s voice cut through the silence, sharp with urgency, as she accelerated her barefoot sprint, landing on the stone path behind them with a stumble. "Where’s Garrick Blackthorn?" she demanded. Cade opened his mouth to respond, "Oh, Captain Garrick was—" But Shirley cut him off, her voice a harsh whisper. "Not here! This isn’t the place to talk. To the Water Lily Lake!" Her urgency brooked no argument, the trio hurried back to the lake’s waterfront, and took shelter behind a cluster of jagged rocks. Shirley’s ragged breaths steadied slightly. Cade, seizing the moment, ventured cautiously, "Senior Sister Quinn, what happened to you?" Shirley’s gaze narrowed, her lips tightening as she spoke curtly, "The ancient stone well is cursed. Something’s wrong with the entire rear mountain. My Suicide Squad... they’re all dead." Her words sent a chill through Ruru, her delicate frame trembling. "Where’s Garrick Blackthorn? Why are you two here?" Shirley demanded, her voice sharp despite her weakened state. Ruru shot an uneasy glance at Cade, her delicate frame trembling under the weight of Shirley’s suspicion. Cade’s voice was grave as he wove their fabricated tale. "Esteemed Senior Sister, we’re following Captain Garrick’s instructions. He sent us to find you. Our Thorn Squad found a lead in the Hanz Clan Ancestral Shrine, but a ninth-layer vengeful wraith blocks the way. Senior Brother Blackthorn can handle it alone, but he fears a clash of peak Ninth Layer strength would cause too much commotion, drawing unwanted attention from Donovan Valdez and Jorge Blue. Thus, he sent me and Junior Sister Ruru to quietly discuss countermeasures with you." Shirley scoffed, her stunning face twisting into an unconvinced sneer, her crimson lips curling as she saw through their ploy. "Oh, really? Is that so?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, her Ninth Layer aura flaring briefly despite her weakened state. "One messenger would suffice. Why send two? Is Garrick scheming something devious, sending you to spread rumors and stir discord?" Her fingers caressed her lone snake earring, its hiss amplifying her words, her narrowed eyes glinting with malicious cunning. "Hissy, my adorable serpent senses the weakness in your meridians—you both used the Blood Burning Technique recently, didn’t you? Garrick’s in trouble, and something terrible happened to your squad, hasn’t it?" The accusation hit like a thunderbolt, Ruru’s faces paling, their breaths catching as Shirley’s deduction exposed their vulnerability. Cade forced a dry laugh, his mind racing to salvage their plan, but Shirley Quinn pressed on, her voice sharp as she leaned closer, her scandalous dress accentuating her curves, the moonlight casting shadows on her scarred skin in a moment of raw, commanding presence. "The Water Lily Lake... the Ancient Stone Well... the Ancestral Shrine..." She sighed, lips curling in new found amusement. "All dead ends, my darlings. No treasure waits there—only shadows and disappointment." A slow, lazy smile. "That leaves us with far more... tantalizing options. The Hanz Stronghold’s main hall, where scouted by Thirst Bull... the Chief’s Royal Study, where Dominator Squad just blow it into a mess with Violet Noir Lightning Fulu... or the Hanz Martial Arts Arena..." Her gaze slid over them, heavy with promise. "Garrick is broken. My Suicide Squad is dust. That means you belong to me now." A delicate finger traced the edge of her raven hair. "And if we find any lost little lambs from our sect? Well..." She laughed, low and throaty. "The more the merrier, don’t you agree?" Every word a caress, every glance a challenge. Shirley wasn’t just leading them. She was seducing them into the hunt. The beauty’s tone was pragmatic, her desperation tempered by the need for allies, her Ninth Layer strength a lifeline for Ruru Rosa and Cade Barret, who exchanged a glance, relief flickering in their eyes. "Alright, Senior Sister... Aye, Captain!" The two said in unison, their voices tinged with cautious gratitude, their fear of Shirley’s potential retribution for their deception giving way to the security of her leadership. The alliance, though born of necessity, was a grim win-win. For Ruru and Cade, Shirley’s peak Ninth Layer strength restored a formidable leader to their depleted Thorn Squad, shielding them from the predatory instincts of other squads like Donovan Valdez’s Dominator or Jorge Blue’s Thirst Bull, while offering a chance to pursue the Hanz Treasury House. For Shirley, the addition of two sect comrades—however weakened—bolstered her odds of surviving the estate’s demonic traps and claiming the treasury’s spoils, a task she couldn’t achieve alone after her squad’s annihilation at the stone well. Yet the Hanz Clan Estate’s horrors loomed large, its mysteries deepening with each revelation: Garrick Blackthorn, a peak Ninth Layer cultivator, had vanished into the shrine’s bead curtain trap, his fate unknown; Shirley’s Squad had been decimated, leaving her as the sole survivor; and the estate’s rear mountain, from the lake to the stone well, pulsed with demonic arrays that defied even Ninth Layer prowess. With Shirley’s peak Ninth Layer strength as their anchor—a beacon of hope amidst the chaos of the Hanz Clan estate’s horrors—relief washed over Cade as he steadied himself. "Captain Quinn," he asked, voice thick with reverence, "what should we do now?" Shirley’s sharp eyes glinted with cunning and resolve, her striking face softening as she weighed their next move. The beauty let the silence stretch, savoring theirs anticipation like a sip of aged wine. Then—that laugh. Low, velvety, a promise laced with danger. "Darlings," she murmured, "we hunt where the blood runs hottest." A pause, deliberate. A predator’s smile. "The Martial Arts Arena first. Let’s see what—or who—is left to play with."