Amidst the Black Street, which had undergone a massive transformation...
Viewed from above, the main area had turned into a lush, verdant jungle cradled by rolling mountain ranges. On one side stood a towering skyscraper, accompanied by a magnificent complex of opulent buildings.
It resembled a vast hunting ground, with the skyscraper complex serving as the viewing stand; meanwhile, the original structures of the Black Street had been pushed to the fringes—like grains of sand displaced by the swelling growth of a potted plant.
The newly formed expanse was several times larger than the original, yet this was hardly surprising.
The Black Street was, by nature, a peculiar space—akin to the "Grotto-heavens" of Taoism, which know no bounds, or the Buddhist concept of "Mount Sumeru within a mustard seed." If the owner's spiritual power were sufficiently potent, projecting the entire universe within it would not be mere fantasy.
What is projected there is simultaneously real and illusory: real, in that the manifestations within the Grotto-heaven are indistinguishable from their counterparts in reality—and the growth and experiences gained within are genuinely authentic; illusory, in that nothing projected within can interfere with the physical world. Even if someone were to die inside, they would suddenly reappear in the outside world, as if they had never been there at all.
Yet, a corpse devoid of consciousness could be brought back into the Grotto-heaven.
It was much like the double-slit experiment in physics: reality and illusion hung on a single thought. But to go a step further—to actually influence reality—would be to transcend forbidden boundaries; it would rival the legendary "Buddha's Kingdom in the Palm" or the Nine Heavens...
At this moment, amidst the uncleared ruins, drones were buzzing as they patrolled the area.
Suddenly, as if they had detected something, they swarmed toward a specific patch of wreckage. "Damn it, I'm done hiding!"
Suddenly, the pile of rubble was flung aside, revealing a burly man. With a furious roar, his body expanded rapidly, tearing his clothes apart as he transformed into a massive, multi-colored tiger—seven or eight meters in length.
Covered in debris and twisted rebar, the tiger leapt into the air amidst a whistling gale. Twisting its waist and whipping its tail, it instantly smashed seven or eight drones to pieces, sending the remaining ones spiraling away.
"Roar!"
The tiger landed and sprinted toward the jungle, kicking up a massive cloud of sand and gravel; its momentum was truly terrifying.
But the very next second, the swirling dust suddenly froze, as if suspended in mid-air. Then, gripped by an invisible hand, it rapidly contracted inward.
*Squelch!*
It was like the implosion of a deep-sea submarine; the space, compressed to the limit, transformed into a brilliant white sphere. An instant later, a spray of bloody pulp, bone fragments, and fur exploded outward. A foul, bloody wind swept past, leaving behind nothing but a massive crater and a splatter of gore and shattered bone covering the surrounding area.
The mighty tiger, which had moments ago displayed such overwhelming power, had vanished without a trace—like a fleeting illusion.
The remaining drones flew over to investigate. After confirming there were no further signs of life, they buzzed away.
Once silence returned to the ruins, a hunched figure—standing beneath a nearby building and previously as inconspicuous as a piece of wood—suddenly stirred.
The figure looked up at the departing drones, then began to move in a way that defied natural logic; there was no rhythmic bobbing of a normal human gait—the movement was truly ghostly. That ghostly figure was none other than the old servant, Zhang Zichen, who had remained behind in Black Street.
For some reason, the old servant seemed to be deliberately searching for something amidst the ruins of the bars and nightclubs; before long, he returned to the deep crater, his eyes filled with wariness.
The "Transcendent" who had leapt out moments ago was at least Level 4—a figure capable of commanding great power in the outside world. Yet here, once they fell within the gaze of the one who controlled the space, they could be crushed like a mere insect.
The old servant felt a deep sense of apprehension. After all, he had once presided over Dragon-Tiger Mountain, inherited the title of "Celestial Master Zhang," and served as the Imperial Preceptor of the Great Ming Dynasty.
Dragon-Tiger Mountain had always been renowned for "exorcising demons and upholding the Way." However, true demons and monsters did not exist in the world; there were only extraordinary individuals capable of shapeshifting. Ordinary folk called them "monsters," though today they are known as "Shapeshifting-type Transcendents."
Of course, since Shapeshifting-type Transcendents inevitably took on certain animalistic traits, it was hardly surprising that they were mistaken for monsters.
The fierce tiger that the burly man had transformed into earlier was of the "Great Demon" class—equivalent, by modern standards, to a Level 4 Shapeshifter.
Even with his own strength, subduing such a "Great Demon" would have required considerable effort. Moreover, Black Street suppressed the power of any Transcendent who was not its master, limiting them to a maximum output of Level 4 strength.
In contrast, the controller of Black Street could directly wield the power of the space itself—a force akin to an extension of Li Zhiyu's own hand. The disparity in power was immense; resistance was futile.
At this thought, the old servant seethed with secret resentment; all of this should have been his!
He had simply been too careless! After successfully ambushing the Queen of Shanghai, even a man of his cunning and composure could not suppress his excitement and joy; the spatial realm was ownerless, and the cunning old fox lying in wait outside posed no immediate threat to him.
As long as he kept the Queen of Shanghai hidden within Black Street, there would be no repercussions for him.
Then, he simply needed to find an opportunity to possess Xiang Anping's body. This would allow him to engage in dual cultivation with the Queen and—by harnessing the Pure Yang essence within her—transform his "Eight-Yang Body" into a "Pure Yang Body," paving the way for him to naturally become the master of Black Street.
The situation looked incredibly promising, yet the "Old Servant" abandoned his usual caution. This may have been due to the influence of Luo Ming's youthful physique; after all, the soul is deeply affected by the body it inhabits—especially during possession, where it is impossible to avoid the influence of the original owner's personality.
Thus, shortly after Tang Lin's self-detonation, the Old Servant—burning with uncontrollable desire—clutched Jiang Yingji and ducked into a secluded building; he simply could not wait to satisfy the carnal cravings that had tormented him for so long.
Yet, he was loath to rush the experience; it would be a tragedy not to savor a woman like the Queen of Shanghai to the fullest. Her naked body lay exposed, her hair damp from their passion, her skin as flawless and translucent as jade—she was a true celestial beauty, a "Goddess of the Nine Heavens" who arguably surpassed even the legendary *femmes fatales* Su Daji and Yang Yuhuan.
Lost in the moment, he cradled her slender, shapely, and delicate white feet, greedily sucking on her pearl-like toes—even the tender spaces between them—before trailing his lips up her shapely calves and voluptuous thighs... he licked almost every inch of her body.