Imperial Capital, overpass.
The mist is thick.
Members of the Security Administration's Black Eagle Team lie on the ground, unsure if they are dead or alive.
Few of the assassins are standing, and the ground is littered with bodies.
The mist grows denser.
A staggering woman's figure slowly emerges in the fog.
Secretary Zhuang's eyes are vacant, with a shocking hole in her abdomen, and her sword has long been lost.
In front of Secretary Zhuang, Ghost Qi gathers, revealing the terrifying silhouette of the Eight-foot Bride.
"Don't leave!"
The Eight-foot Bride shrieks, her crimson hand gripping Secretary Zhuang's neck, lifting her up.
The Eight-foot Bride leaps into the depths of the fog, landing beside Xie Qilin.
The Eight-foot Bride says flatteringly:
"Husband, here you go."
Xie Qilin smiles and says:
"Thank you for your hard work, my dear."
Secretary Zhuang clutches the Eight-foot Bride's hand, struggling, her legs flailing, trying hard to speak:
