On the desolate outskirts of Westlake City, the winter wind adorned the silence.
It was the heart of winter. The sunlight was dim, the gloomy sky casting shadows over everyone’s frozen expressions—some stunned with blank bewilderment, others locked in fearful alarm. Each person’s mood was different, each unique.
Silence!
A strange atmosphere spread across the field, as if the curtain was slowly rising on a world where all sounds had vanished.
The biting wind continued, the dim sunlight still shone, but silence replaced all sound. No one spoke. No one moved.
Even those who only caught a fleeting glimpse were infected by the mood, instinctively bewildered, as if transformed into lifelike statues.
Gulp.
Two Martial Artists who had always regarded Irene Yin as their goddess forced themselves to swallow.
Their minds were resolute, barely breaking free from the silence, their eyes full of shock and disbelief. The phones in their hands nearly shattered from their grip—they couldn’t believe this was the always ordinary Finch Huang.
Finch Huang made her move—like a gust of wind sweeping through!
Most of the young people couldn’t see clearly; they only felt Finch Huang turn into a phantom, splitting the group of girls and grabbing the pure white rabbit, killing it instantly.
"Impossible!"
The two Martial Artists exchanged glances.
"Usually in the Seventh Squad, Finch Huang never stands out. If she didn’t ignore Irene Yin, we probably wouldn’t even pay attention to the name Finch Huang… But judging by her strike just now, she’s probably not weaker than either of us!"
The two lower-ranked Martial Artists communicated with their eyes.
The slightly stronger Martial Artist was named Zhao Jia. His limited perspective and youthful arrogance made him subconsciously underestimate Finch Huang.
Who could have guessed that the always low-key Finch Huang, seemingly just an ordinary little girl, was in fact the world’s Fifth Legend, with true strength at the Martial General Realm.
As the cold wind swept by,
the strange silence slowly faded, like the ebbing tide.
But seeing that Irene Yin didn’t react, Finch Huang earnestly reminded her again, her small face full of seriousness and sincerity.