Chapter 112: The Japanese Sorcerer (Part Two)

All returned to calm. The five men said nothing further but bowed respectfully to the woman, who was dressed in a crimson robe. Then, using a ninjutsu technique, they vanished into the ground, leaving only the woman behind. Her deep, skull-like eyes fixed intently on every movement within the crystal ball.

Speaking of the Seika Group, it was merely a branch of a Japanese company, barely ranking within the top hundred in Z City. Yet, their ambitions were astonishing—they dared to challenge the renowned Ran family group, famous throughout the entire nation.

In truth, the reason the Japanese Seika Group could establish itself on Chinese soil was due to their sinister competitive tactics. Whenever the newly formed Seika Group encountered an opponent, news of that opponent’s assassination would soon follow. The police were never able to uncover any clues and thus never suspected the Seika Group.

That Japanese woman named Reiko lightly tapped the crystal ball with her slender fingers. Suddenly, an invisible force passed through the wall, heading toward the adjacent room where Ran Lingpeng was chatting with some girls. Upon closer inspection, it was a wisp of black smoke that entered Ran Lingpeng’s body without his awareness.

On this outing, I had deliberately called Wang Sheng and Tong Xuan, as they were notorious for being late. Yet, an hour had passed, and they still had not arrived.

With the crowd here, no one paid attention to this minor detail. After an unknown length of time, Wang Sheng and Tong Xuan finally appeared before me. They explained their tardiness was due to traffic.

I said nothing, merely gesturing for them to enjoy themselves and spend freely, since nothing here cost a dime. Strangely enough, I had also inexplicably gained a wealthy underling.

Ever since Liu Wei was scared by my divine power, he had been incessantly calling the counter below, urging the waitstaff to hurry with the orders, eager to curry favor with the big brother. Gradually, he integrated into our group, forgetting past grievances and joining us in drinking.

We did not reject him—after all, the food and drinks were his treat. Moreover, this man in his forties already called me “big brother,” so for the sake of face, we let bygones be bygones.

“Ugh, it hurts so much, it’s really unbearable. My chest feels so tight!” For reasons unknown, Er Peng suddenly collapsed, rolling on the ground, clutching his chest and gasping painfully.

This terrified Liu Wei. Just as he was blending in with us, this happened. He hurriedly told those glaring at him, “No, brothers, this wasn’t me! I didn’t put anything in the drinks—I swear! If you don’t believe me, I’ll drink it myself!” Saying this, Liu Wei downed Er Peng’s previously consumed beer in one gulp.

By now, Er Peng began coughing up black blood, his eyes rolling back—death seemed imminent. The bystanders panicked and immediately pulled out their phones to call emergency services.

Only Wang Sheng remained calm and composed. He glanced at Er Peng, then addressed everyone: “No need to call an ambulance. This isn’t illness; it’s a form of Japanese sorcery. My master once taught me a method to counter it. If I’m right, your friend has countless black dots on his back forming a chrysanthemum pattern. If so, he’s been cursed by the Nine Chrysanthemum Sect, a Japanese folk sorcery!”

Sure enough, I lifted Er Peng’s shirt and found a chrysanthemum-shaped mark imprinted on his back. It was eerie. Using my demonic corpse eyes, I saw the pattern emitting a black miasma, corroding every inch of Er Peng’s skin. Wherever the miasma touched, the skin turned pitch black.

“Don’t worry, he won’t die anytime soon. If you trust me, don’t call for help yet. Step aside and watch closely—we’ll find out exactly what we’re dealing with, and I’ll try to help your friend,” Wang Sheng said, adopting a serious stance.

He pulled out a deep yellow talisman from his sleeve, lit it with a lighter, and waved it over the chrysanthemum on Er Peng’s back while chanting, “Urgent command, let it be so!”

With a sharp snap, he pressed the smoldering talisman firmly onto the chrysanthemum mark. This act startled everyone present.

“Will this work?” a girl whispered anxiously, frowning as she glanced around to see if anyone overheard her.

“Quiet. Whether it works or not, you’ll see soon enough. Don’t speak now, or you’ll disrupt his spell,” Tong Xuan warned, shooting the girl a sharp look to silence her.

“Sizzle... sizzle... sizzle...” After Wang Sheng pressed his palm to Er Peng’s back, the sound of frying meat echoed. From the chrysanthemum mark, a deep black spiral of energy burst forth, shooting toward the wall and carving out a transparent, mirror-like portal roughly one meter in diameter.

This black, spiraling hole resembled a supernatural phenomenon—like the entrance to a time tunnel—fixed firmly on the wall.

“Ha ha ha ha, so you’ve seen it after all. I didn’t expect the revival of the Nine Chrysanthemum Sect to encounter such formidable opponents in the Southern Fur!” a ghostly female voice echoed from the dark portal. Gradually, a woman in a red robe materialized atop the gleaming black hole.

“Enough nonsense! What exactly do you want, Nine Chrysanthemum Sect? Why did you curse my friend?” Wang Sheng demanded, forming hand seals as he seized Er Peng, holding the black chrysanthemum mark toward the apparition.

The Nine Chrysanthemum Sect represents all Japanese sorcerers, founded over a thousand years ago. Legend tells that a defector from the Southern Fur sect fled to a desolate Japanese wasteland where only nine chrysanthemums grew within a hundred-mile radius. Interpreting this as a divine sign, he founded the Nine Chrysanthemum Sect, vowing eternal enmity against the Southern Fur. Their rivalry has persisted for more than a millennium.

During the Ming Dynasty six centuries ago, the Nine Chrysanthemum Sect reached unprecedented prominence. Their sorcerers joined the Japanese pirates, enabling the pirate fleets to invade the coastal regions of the Ming Empire.

Had it not been for the Nine Chrysanthemum sorcerers, those short-armed, short-legged punks would have been crushed before reaching Ming territory.

But after that invasion failed, Japanese sorcerers nearly disappeared, retreating into the mountains and ceasing worldly involvement—until six centuries later, during the anti-Japanese war, when they appeared briefly again before vanishing once more.

To this day, this Japanese woman is the first Japanese sorcerer Wang Sheng has ever encountered.

This Japanese sorcery is akin to Chinese witchcraft and venom magic—cursed, forbidden arts used primarily for harm. Even their healing spells employ cruel and extreme methods; misuse often harms both the victim and the practitioner.

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