Fang Yang boarded the soul-guided train bound for Tian Dou City, settled into his seat, and closed his eyes.
Soft light bathed the carriage—passengers murmured quietly or meditated in peace.
Woo——
With a long, echoing whistle, the train glided forward. Scenery streamed past the windows like liquid memory.
Fang Yang sank into cultivation—soul power flowing in gentle currents around him.
BEEP!
A shrill siren shattered the calm!
"EMERGENCY! EVIL SOUL MASTERS HAVE SEIZED THE TRAIN! REMAIN SEATED—DO NOT MOVE!"
Panic erupted.
Screams. Children's wails. Adults clutching trembling children.
Fang Yang opened his eyes—a flicker of wry amusement in their depths.
"Oh no… have I truly become a soul-guided train curse?!"
Since I'm here—I'll handle it.
His spiritual sense surged outward like a silent tide.
A faint smile touched his lips: "I knew it. Definitely not my curse."
Tang Wulin was aboard too.
He rose and strode toward the disturbance.
The air grew thick with chilling malice—oppressive, suffocating.
"Senior Mo Lan—long time no see," Fang Yang said calmly.
Mo Lan turned, surprise flashing in her eyes: "Fang Yang? You're here too?"
"Coincidence. What's the situation?"
Her face tightened: "Unlike last time—they've seized full control of the train."
"I see," Fang Yang nodded.
"Sorry to trouble you again…" Mo Lan's voice softened with apology.
"Leave it to me. It's a small matter," he replied, unruffled.
"Thank you—I trust you," she said earnestly.
Then—a hoarse voice boomed from the front carriage:
"TELL THE FEDERATION: RELEASE OUR COMRADES DETAINED TWENTY DAYS AGO—OR EVERYONE ON THIS TRAIN DIES!"
"Oh? Is that so?"
Fang Yang stepped forward—voice calm, yet cutting through the chaos like a blade.
A gaunt-faced evil soul master stood center-carriage.
Black cloak billowing. Ominous staff gripped tight.
Black smoke seeped from his pores—sizzling as it corroded metal walls.
Temperature plummeted. Passengers huddled in terror; children's mouths muffled by trembling hands.
The man cackled: "Hehehe… witness the true power of the PLAGUE MESSENGER!"
"Let me take a look!" Fang Yang replied, utterly serene.
The Plague Messenger raised his staff—
Soul rings emerged not as solid bands, but as wisps of smoke:
Two Yellow, Two Purple, Two Black—six rings wreathed in toxic green mist.
Dark green Battle Armor encased him—grotesque, radiating death.
His aura surged—a tidal wave of frost and decay crashing toward Fang Yang.
"Going all out immediately? Pretty cautious… intriguing," Fang Yang murmured.
Black Flame bloomed in his palm—runes swirling, chaos halos flickering—
a silent devourer of souls.
"WHAT FLAME IS THIS?!" the Plague Messenger shrieked—death's breath chilling his bones.
Impossible! A One-Word Battle Armor Master and Soul Emperor level, it was enough to rival Soul Douluos without Battle Armor!
Evil soul masters were insidious… yet this boy radiated unshakable dominance!
He triggered his third ring:
"THIRD SOUL SKILL: PLAGUE DIFFUSION!"
Green poison erupted—melting steel, scorching air.
"Next time, brat—I'll end you!" He spun to flee.
Evil soul masters didn't die for comrades. Survival was everything.
"There's no 'next time.' Today is more than enough," Fang Yang said flatly.
"VOID DEVOUR."
Black Flame exploded—a vortex swallowing poison, space, and hope.
The Plague Messenger screamed, trapped, his life force draining—even his Battle Armor began dimming, green mist vanishing.
"NO! THE HOLY SPIRIT CULT WILL—!"
Fang Yang closed his fist.
Silence.
Only the passengers' ragged breaths remained.
Mo Lan rushed forward, eyes wide with awe: "Fang Yang—you saved us! The strength of this Evil Soul Master far exceeded our expectations; if you hadn't acted in time, the consequences would have been unimaginable.."
"A minor inconvenience," he dismissed. "However, for them to seize the train directly? It is no coincidence. Senior Mo Lan you must be more careful. The Holy Spirit Cult is once again stirring."
Tang Wulin arrived from the rear carriage, relief on his face: "Everyone safe? I handled the others."
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Electronic voices echoed from all directions:
"EVIL SOUL MASTERS—YOU ARE SURROUNDED!"
Lights locked onto Fang Yang.
Over ten mechas descended—soul-guided cannons aimed, humming with lethal intent.
Tian Dou City's guard squad had arrived.
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