Of the three wild beasts, two large wolves were engaging the Taoist priest in a fierce face-off, while the smaller wolf, originally circling outside the battlefield waiting for an opening, spotted Leng Yue and, judging him to be an easier target, suddenly lunged toward him.

Leng Yue sidestepped, dropping into a half crouch. His left hand gripped the belt buckle tightly, while his right hand extended the tail of the belt, stretching it straight. Just as the small wolf was about to pounce, Leng Yue snapped his left hand open and swung the belt sharply. The steel buckle connected with the wolf’s eye with a loud thwack.

The wolf yelped in pain, spitting out a fireball the size of a tennis ball that shot straight toward Leng Yue’s face.

“D*mn!” Leng Yue didn’t have time to be surprised. He ducked just in time, his other belt swinging around and landing a solid blow to the wolf’s skull. The impact was so hard it left a furrow in the grass-like ground beneath.

That was close!

The wolf’s body was incredibly tough. Leng Yue’s strike would have cracked a human skull, but the beast merely staggered back, jumping away with a growl, ready to strike again.

After a brief struggle, the small wolf saw its opportunity and lunged again, its claws lightning-fast as they reached for Leng Yue’s belt buckle. With a swift swipe of its right paw, it slashed through the air toward Leng Yue’s chest.

Despite being called a “small wolf,” this creature was still over two meters long and weighed around 140-150 kg—larger than most adult male wolves. Its claws were like razor-sharp steel blades.

Leng Yue hesitated, caught in a dilemma. If he let go of the belt, he’d be defenseless. But if he held on, the next moment could be his last.

In that brief moment of indecision, the wolf’s claws grazed Leng Yue’s clothing, shredding it at the seams.

The Taoist priest, no longer distracted by the small wolf, had begun to handle the two larger wolves with more ease. Seeing Leng Yue’s peril, he brandished his sword, forcing one of the larger wolves back. With a swift motion, his left hand summoned a bolt of lightning that struck the small wolf, sending it howling and rolling away.

“Sh*t!” Leng Yue thought frantically. His mind seemed consumed by only that one exclamation.

The lightning strike had left the small wolf scorched on one side, its fur singed and burnt. Despite the intense pain, the creature recovered and, with a growl, lunged toward Leng Yue once more.

The two large wolves, angered by the priest’s attack, howled and began spewing fireballs like they were nothing. They grew more frantic, and the Taoist was forced to dodge clumsily. Leng Yue realized he might have to rely on himself soon.

Taking advantage of the small wolf’s momentary stun, Leng Yue wrapped the belt around his right hand, positioning the buckle to form a sharp edge between his index and middle fingers. He tightened his fist, transforming the belt into a makeshift brass knuckle.

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The small wolf lunged again. Leng Yue gritted his teeth, jumping to the side and throwing a full-force punch at the wolf’s head. His knuckles slammed into the creature’s skull, the sharp edges of the belt buckle driving deep into the wolf’s bone.

The wolf howled, falling to the ground, but Leng Yue, emboldened by the success of his punch, leapt onto the wolf’s back, raining down several more blows onto its head.

The wolf struggled briefly, but it was too injured to fight back. Leng Yue punched at the wolf’s skull again and again, delivering a series of crushing blows that took over thirty punches before the wolf’s head collapsed in with a sickening crunch.

Leng Yue’s knuckles were soaked in the beast’s blood. As the wolf’s body finally stilled, Leng Yue reached into the creature’s skull and pulled out a shiny orb, a glowing sphere that seemed to hum with energy.

At that moment, the last remaining large wolf, enraged at the death of its packmate, let out a primal scream and fired a massive fireball directly at Leng Yue.

The Taoist priest, anticipating the attack, deflected the fireball with a flick of his sword, sending it flying harmlessly into a nearby tree, which exploded in a shower of bark and leaves.

Out of sheer desperation, the large wolf tried to spew another fireball but was too weak. It collapsed, its last breath escaping in a pitiful whine as the priest finished it off with a final strike to its neck.

Leng Yue, still on top of the fallen small wolf, gripped the glowing orb tightly, his mind still reeling from the bizarre battle. He hadn’t quite processed what had just happened when the Taoist approached and gave a casual shake of his head. Without another word, the priest performed a simple incantation and Leng Yue was once again enveloped by a strange force, falling into darkness.

When Leng Yue regained consciousness, he found himself back in the airport bathroom stall, crouching down. His first thought was that he must have been too stressed recently, to the point where he’d even fallen asleep while on the toilet.

However, the soreness in his body, the belt still wrapped around his hand, and the glowing orb in his palm made it clear: this wasn’t a dream.

A strange noise came from his stomach, and Leng Yue hurriedly finished his business. Standing up, he noticed that his once-pristine suit was now torn to shreds.

As the memories of the bizarre battle played over in his mind, his hands shook. He had seen a lot of gruesome violence and strange things in his time as an assassin, but this was beyond anything he could comprehend.

He stood for several minutes, trying to pull himself together, before checking the time. It was only 1:24 AM—meaning, the fight had happened in another world, and time here had passed normally.

Another world—the thought hit him like a lightning bolt, and the hairs on his neck stood on end. It was the only logical explanation.

Leng Yue took a deep breath, changing into fresh clothes and putting the orb into his pocket. He discarded his torn clothes and the belt into the trash.

Then, a strange noise emanated from inside him, like tiny bubbles popping, though when he listened carefully, it seemed to disappear.

Maybe it was just a trick of the mind.

After washing his hands and splashing water on his face, he stared at his reflection in the mirror, only to let out a frustrated sigh. His hair, perfectly groomed moments ago, now sported a large, scorched mark from the wolf’s fireball. His appearance was no longer merely ugly—it was downright bizarre.

He had a razor in his suitcase, but it lacked the attachment for trimming his hair, and so Leng Yue resigned himself to the fact that a clean shave would have to wait.

Dragging his luggage, Leng Yue walked through the airport, enduring the stunned stares and suppressed laughter of the other passengers. For someone who was used to moving in the shadows, this level of attention was torturous.

He wandered for what felt like hours, but couldn’t find any place that sold razors or clippers. Reluctantly, he boarded the plane, deciding that as soon as he landed, he would find somewhere to shave his head—no matter what.