Night.

Came very suddenly.

A torrential rain poured down.

The lively Moon Manor quickly turned quiet after a rainstorm.

It wasn't until late at night that the rain stopped.

Many people did not sleep, playing on their phones under the covers.

In this era of highly advanced information technology, electronic devices are unintentionally eroding human bodies.

Staying up all night, enduring sleepless nights.

These things that originally harmed the body have become commonplace in society.

Fortunately, everyone is a worker and still needs to go to work.

To be able to get up in the morning, people must sleep at a certain time to support a day's work.

Otherwise, perhaps the whole world would stay up all night.

Day and night upside down.

Every household inside the manor had its lights on.

Occasionally, if the lights were off, it might be a home with only elderly people.

Darrell Percival's mansion was also brightly lit.

Carl Percival's body was displayed in the courtyard, surrounded by dozens of martial masters in mourning robes and wearing cloth bands, bowing their heads in silent tribute.

Darrell Percival stood in front of the spirit hall, saying nothing.

Cry, he had cried.

After crying, this sadness transformed into anger, growing continuously inside him.

He wanted revenge, to kill his enemy!

But today, inside the manor owner's residence.

He witnessed the enemy's terribleness firsthand and was unable to avenge personally.

All Darrell Percival could do now was wait.

Wait for the manor owner to devise a plan.

"It's late, everyone rest."

Darrell Percival glanced at his son's portrait in front of the spirit hall, his heart wrenched.

He returned to his room, preparing to plot his revenge.

But the martial masters in the courtyard, none dared to go back.

Tonight, they would stay here.

If anyone took Darrell Percival's words seriously and went to sleep, they'd likely be fired the next day.

This was the time to show loyalty.

The rain gradually stopped.

The air was filled with the smell of earth.

Dozens of martial masters just stood guard in front of the brightly lit spirit hall, afraid to speak, not daring to move.

Fortunately, they were all Martial Artists, standing for a long time wouldn't tire them.

Midnight.

Dong!

The sound of a bell.

On the formerly empty street, suddenly appeared a crowd.

These people wore mourning robes, heads covered in white cloth.

The leader raised a funeral banner high, with others behind carrying coffins!

Eighteen large coffins!

Blood-red coffins, snow-white mourning robes, and paper money scattered all over the street.

Making this night destined to be unusual.

The Wind blew through, paper money flying everywhere.

"Look, what's that!"

In front of Darrell Percival's mansion entrance.

The martial artist guarding the door saw this scene and only felt a chill down the spine, a harrowing feeling.

"Quick, go back!"

Midnight.

Anyone seeing such a scene on the street would surely feel fear.

This is the deepest fear inside one's heart.

Innate.

"Why are you two back instead of properly guarding the door?" The martial master in charge of guarding patrols walked up to the two and said displeased, "Boss Percival is in a bad mood now, are you courting death!"

Because Carl died, the security forces within the manor increased again.

Darrell Percival was already a master, but cautious people tend to live longer.

During the day the martial arts school operated as usual, at night all the elite returned to the mansion to prevent accidents.

"Boss, it's eerie outside, someone is having a funeral." The martial artist guarding the door pointed outside, his face pale, saying, "In the dead of night, we brothers avoid it, anyone seeing that scene feels anxious."

"Yes, it's a bit scary. Boss Percival is asleep now, we brothers will hide in the courtyard for a while."

The other person spoke in a pleading tone.

"You two!"

Pap! Pap!

The martial master slapped the back of the heads. "Even if you're slacking off, find an excuse that's passable, funeral in the dead of night? Are you making me laugh? Today, I'll teach you two a lesson!"

After speaking, the martial master strode to the door and sneered, "If there's a funeral outside today, so be it. If not, watch me break your legs!"

Finished speaking.

He unlocked the door and directly opened it wide!

What met the eyes.

Was a bald head???

Whoosh!

Before he could react, the bald head threw a punch, directly passing through his chest!

Poor this martial master hadn't reacted to what had happened before he was already dead.

"This one doesn't count."

Whitaker Dog withdrew his blood-covered hand, touched his bald head, "This incurs a separate charge."

Blood stains covered the bald head, but no one felt it was inappropriate.

"Spare me..."

Thud!

The martial artist who reacted first instantly knelt on the ground, frightened.

He knew he couldn't outrun them.

People much stronger than him had died, would running help?

With this kneeling, the remaining ones quickly realized and knelt begging for mercy.

Being able to kill that martial master with a single punch indicated these people's power was extremely formidable!

They weren't match at all.

"You little shrimps, get out." Whitaker Dog waved his hand.

He was here to collect payment, not to kill.

That martial master at the gate...

Was just an accident.

Couldn't be helped.

It was a reflex.

Whitaker Dog saw a person and wanted to kill them.

In his eyes, those weren't humans; they were walking ashes.

They were his clients!

"Brothers, play the suona!"

Whitaker Dog leaped and sat cross-legged on the coffin lid.

The procession marched grandly, heading deeper into the mansion.

The martial masters guarding the spirit furrowed their brows, turning around collectively, staring toward the direction of the entrance.

Late at night.

Why were the suona sounds playing?

Half a minute later.

The alarm sounded.

"Not good, there's an intrusion!"

These martial masters rushed to the sides, drawing their weapons, vigilantly watching the entrance.

Once this alarm sounded, it meant someone had infiltrated the mansion and the combat power was very strong.

Darrell Percival, pondering revenge in his bedroom, was jolted awake, directly flipping the covers and rushing out.

Suona sounds were getting closer.

Even somewhat piercing.

Each person in front of the spirit hall was sweating in their palms.

Who on earth dared to intrude here in the dead of night?

And still playing suona?

Finally.

A foot appeared in their view.

"Careful!"

Someone shouted loudly.

But what they saw next was not the body or face of a person.

Everyone's pupils constricted sharply!

Instinctively fleeing!

Because it was—

Machine of hidden weapons!

Chug-chug-chug...

Darts sprayed wildly!

The foremost martial master under extreme tension did not react, becoming a sieve instantly.

The remainder couldn't care much, directly rolling behind Carl Percival's coffin!

Darts fired intensely.

Carl Percival's crystal coffin shattered, even the corpse was deformed.

Martial masters ran for cover, ducking behind concealments, not daring to emerge.

After a storm of hidden weapons.

Whitaker Dog strode out.

Raised his hand high!

Eighteen coffins lifted above.

"Boss Percival, Funeral Alliance keeps its word! Said in the daylight that we'd deliver eighteen coffins, won't be a minute late!"

Finished speaking, his hand dropped!

Boom!

Eighteen heavy coffins slammed to the ground.

Dust scattered.

The air, deathly silent.

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