Chapter 107: Purging the Night of Treachery

Ying Tan.

Inside a sanatorium.

Wang Ze, leaning against a long bench, suddenly snapped his eyes open. His crimson pupils, bloodshot and filled with fierce veins, reflected an expression of utter shock, as if he had witnessed something utterly unbelievable.

"Damn it, is this guy named Ye Yan some kind of living monster? He was clearly pulled into the dream realm, yet he still manages to single-handedly withstand the tide of the undead. This is terrifying."

Nightmare’s voice trembled with a hint of fear. Having roamed the psychic circles for so long, this was the first time he had encountered someone who could rival him within the dream world.

Usually, those dragged into the dream realm by him suffered from severely restricted abilities. Under the relentless siege of the undead horde, they would barely last before their souls were torn apart, transforming into one of the mindless masses.

Yet now, faced with such an overwhelming number of the undead, Ye Yan still had not fallen.

Nightmare’s ability, called "Dark Dream," was an innate psychic power that allowed him to pull people into a dream world entirely under his control.

Within this dream realm, one could neither use physical objects from reality nor employ supernatural powers. Only physical strength and martial skills could be relied upon.

This unique power was also the reason why, despite his moderate strength, Nightmare had been exceptionally admitted into Purgatory, often tasked with covert assassination missions.

Wang Ze’s subtle movement nonetheless stirred Wang Ai Yi, who had been resting nearby with closed eyes, to open them.

“Have you finished it yet?”

The moment Wang Ai Yi opened his eyes, he eagerly posed the question he cared about most.

“Not yet.”

Nightmare removed his glasses from the bridge of his nose and rubbed his dry, gritty eyes before speaking, “This guy named Ye Yan is indeed extraordinary. No wonder Old Man Wang was willing to pay such a price to eliminate him.”

“Although this fellow is obscure within the circles, his strength is no joke—almost on par with a Grand Lord. He’s extremely troublesome.”

Hearing Nightmare’s words, Wang Ai Yi couldn’t help but freeze for a moment, still harboring doubts.

“Is he really that strong?”

The title "Grand Lord" was well-known to Wang Ai Yi—a unique honorific from the Western world, reserved for the mightiest of the mighty.

Essentially, it was equivalent to an elite master in the supernatural community, akin to a grand heavenly master. Those who reached such power always secured a place on the psychic rankings.

Wang Ai Yi never imagined that Nightmare would hold Ye Yan in such high regard. It was simply beyond his wildest expectations and only intensified his anxiety.

“So, can you handle him?”

If even someone from Purgatory couldn’t take care of Ye Yan, then Wang Ai Yi was at a loss. If that little troublemaker survived, the Wang family would be doomed.

To eliminate Ye Yan, he had even sought cooperation from the Purgatory faction. From the moment contact was made with Purgatory, the Wang family had no way back.

There were only two possible outcomes:

Either Ye Yan dies, and the Wang family remains safe.

Or Ye Yan lives, and the Wang family perishes.

With the family’s fate at stake, how could Wang Ai Yi not be deeply concerned?

Though Nightmare was somewhat fearful and surprised by Ye Yan’s performance, he remained the master of the dream realm.

“Boss Wang, rest assured. Ye Yan is tricky, but not impossible to deal with. It’ll just cost a bit.”

“What cost?” Wang Ai Yi asked anxiously.

A sinister smile crept across Wang Ze’s face. “Probably your nephew’s life.”

As he spoke, Wang Ze raised his left hand, and the fair skin rapidly crumbled and cracked, as if turning to stone.

...

...

“Endless…”

With a single punch, Ye Yan blew the head off a zombie lunging at him. His eyes cold and indifferent, he shook off the disgusting sticky slime clinging above.

He then lifted his gaze to the front, where waves of zombies surged like a black tide.

Despite fighting here for a long time, Ye Yan felt the undead horde before him had not thinned; instead, their numbers only seemed to grow.

Every time he dispatched some zombies, even more would quickly rush in.

Maintaining his "Blackened" state and sustaining such intense combat for long, even Ye Yan was beginning to feel exhausted.

After all, while "Blackened," he could only rely on ordinary punches and kicks, unable to use the myriad techniques of the Watchmen.

This not only drained his body but also wore on his mind.

Thus, even in a calm "Blackened" state, Ye Yan felt an oppressive frustration.

“This can’t go on.”

A flicker of hesitation passed through Ye Yan’s eyes.

The undead tide was evidently endless, but his stamina and mental endurance were severely limited.

Given these opposing forces, the one who would fall first was inevitably Ye Yan.

He began to contemplate alternative ways to survive the immediate crisis.

Yet, whether to employ that method weighed heavily on him. After all, it was a forbidden technique targeting souls devised by the Watchmen—indiscriminate between friend and foe. Despite crossing through years, Ye Yan had never used it.

Such a formidable forbidden technique was only to be used when absolutely necessary.

But facing the overwhelming wave of undead, Ye Yan took a deep breath and ultimately chose to use it to escape the current predicament.

While pondering this, Ye Yan did not pause. He swiftly turned, using his leg to smash away a zombie attempting to sneak up behind him.

Suddenly, a dense black mist rose around him, rippling like a thin veil that enveloped Ye Yan.

Black energy surged from his hollow eyes as he slowly raised a hand, palm up, fingers closing, and fiercely dragged at the vast undead horde in the distance.

Nightfall — Purge the Tyrant.

A torrent of black energy erupted from Ye Yan’s body, morphing into a gigantic ring that rapidly dispersed outward from him.

“Boom! Boom! Boom!”

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