Die, Replay, Repeat

"Yan Changshou is captured! Surrender now, and we'll spare those who do!" Li Xiaoru's voice thundered, nearly drowning out the chaos around him.

His words hit hard, though they didn't shake the Pokers much. But Yan Changshou's followers? They hesitated. Some were captured by the headquarters' psychic, but a few still clung to their defiance, fighting back with everything they had.

"Yan Changshou, your plan is a bust. Order your people to stand down," Xiao Zhenhua said, his voice ice-cold.

Yan Changshou didn't even acknowledge them. His eyes locked onto Fang Xiu was filled with a wild, burning rage.

"Who are you?!" he demanded.*

Fang Xiu, calm as ever, walked toward him, closing the distance step by step.

He looked at Yan Changshou with cool indifference, like he was staring at a cornered animal.

"How sad. You're trapped, and you still have no clue who I am? You didn't lose by chance."

Yan Changshou's eyes narrowed, and something clicked in his mind.

"The moment you targeted me, you were doomed," Fang Xiu replied.

Yan Changshou fell silent, but nearby, Fang Moli's eyes lit up as if something just clicked for him. He started muttering to himself, trying to piece together Fang Xiu's words.

Then, without warning, Yan Changshou broke into hysterical laughter.

"Do you really think you've won?" he mocked, his voice edged with madness.

Suddenly, his restrained body began to convulse. From one side of him, tentacles and eyes started to sprout grotesquely.

The other captains scowled, their expressions darkening.

And then—

CLANG!

A sword appeared, sounding like a dragon's roar echoing across the heavens.

Everyone was blinded by a flash of sword light so bright that it made their eyes water.

Fang Moli had made his move.

He held a sword, glowing with divine golden light. One side of the blade was engraved with the sun, the moon, and stars, while the other side depicted mountains, rivers, and plants.

It was the Xuanyuan Sword.

As soon as the sword appeared, a powerful, awe-inspiring energy filled the air. Everyone felt incredibly small, like ants before a chasm, like mortals in front of a god.

'Is this the legendary Xuanyuan Sword?'

Fang Xiu's eyes flashed. The pressure from the sword felt eerily similar to what he'd experienced with Taotie.

It was impossible to tell which was stronger, but one thing was clear: they both existed on the same otherworldly level.

The Xuanyuan Sword and Taotie gave Fang Xiu the feeling of facing something beyond this world, like a lowly creature staring up at a higher being—a mere mortal before a god—completely out of their depth.

SWISH!

With a single strike, the sword pierced through Yan Changshou's body.

The moment the blade sank in, all the strange changes in his body stopped, frozen in place.

His eyes widened in shock, anger etched across his face as he died, unable to believe what had just happened.

This isn't the cartoon; no one waits around for their opponent to transform.

No matter how powerful a move was, if it takes too long to set up, it's just dead weight.

That's why the best fighters stick to the basics. Striking a fraction of a second faster than your opponent is always better than showing off flashy moves.

After finishing Yan Changshou, Fang Moli couldn't help but add, "The moment I drew my sword, you're doomed."

The captains were left speechless, caught off guard by Fang Moli's quick imitation of Fang Xiu's words.

However, in the very next moment, something bizarre happened.

Yan Changshou's body started to fade, gradually dissolving into a thin wisp of green smoke, and then he vanished entirely.

Where his corpse should've been, there was only a straw doll, pierced straight through.

Everyone's expressions darkened immediately.

"Damn it, it's a Substitution Doll!"

Fang Moli's face was especially grim, though it wasn't clear if he was more upset about failing to kill Yan Changshou or the fact that his dramatic display had been for nothing.

BOOM!

Suddenly, the ground beneath them shook violently.

In the northwest corner of the sky, a massive, pitch-black door appeared out of nowhere. Its surface was covered in engravings of hellish scenes.

"It's Yan Changshou's Specter Gate!"

"Hurry! Stop him!" The captains were now in shock and fury. They rushed to prevent Yan Changshou from escaping.

But then, another startling event unfolded.

In the midst of the chaos, the very fabric of space began to twist.

With a flash of light, five figures dressed in black uniforms, each wearing a Poker mask, appeared on the scene.

As soon as these five arrived, a terrifying energy filled the air, suffocating everyone around.

The masks they wore represented the Ace of Spades, Ace of Diamonds, Ace of Clubs, Ace of Hearts, and the most formidable of all, the Big Joker.

"The Big Joker!" Xiao Zhenhua's face turned serious as he locked eyes on the figure with the clown mask. Without wasting a second, he moved to shield the Director and Fang Xiu, retreating cautiously.

Meanwhile, in the northwest sky, the Specter Gate had fully opened, unleashing a horde of Snakeworms. They swarmed out, blackening the sky with their sheer numbers.

The Ace of Spades noticed Xiao Zhenhua protecting Fang Xiu and grew more respectful, marveling at how Fang Xiu's true identity remained hidden.

Muttering to himself, the Ace of Spades thought, 'If Mr. Fang is watching, I can't mess this up. I've got to find a way to break free and kill Yan Changshou. If Mr. Fang praises me in front of the Director, I'll be unstoppable. I can't let anyone else get this glory—it has to be mine!'

Determined, he turned to his companions and said, "I'll handle things here. The rest of you, go stop Yan Changshou."

This time, Fang Moli didn't draw the Xuanyuan Sword. Instead, he gripped a long sword forged from Mind Steel and stepped forward alone, ready to confront all five of them by himself.

"You won't escape," came a cold, steady voice from beneath the Big Joker's mask.

He raised a pale hand and suddenly pressed down into the air.

BOOM!

In an instant, the weather shifted dramatically. The sky roared with thunder, and lightning bolts rained down furiously, aiming directly at the captains.

The captains quickly summoned their abilities, blocking the lightning. They weren't injured, but their advance was slowed.

"Ace of Clubs, stop drinking and do your job!" Ace of Hearts yelled angrily.

At that moment, Ace of Clubs was busy downing a bottle of liquor, gulping it down as if he were in a bar, not a battlefield.

He lowered the bottle, laughing loudly, "Hahaha, nothing beats a 50-year-old Moutai! I wouldn't be drinking this if it wasn't for such a special occasion."

"Shut up and focus!" Ace of Hearts snapped.

"No rush, no rush! 'Golden cup filled with green foams; I would die drunk without regret!' Domain activated: Chalice Mist!"

With a hearty laugh, the Ace of Clubs waved his hand, and a giant golden chalice materialized faintly in the sky.

The chalice tipped, and a stream of crystal-clear wine with sparkling bubbles cascaded down from the heavens like a waterfall.

Strangely, as the wine fell, it evaporated into a thick mist mid-air.

In seconds, a rich aroma of alcohol filled the entire area.

As the scent spread, soldiers who were just ordinary humans started to stagger and collapse, as if they were deeply intoxicated.

But it wasn't just them. Even the psychics in the area began to feel the effects, their movements sluggish as if they too were drunk.