Zhao Feng watched the sudden change unfold before him, eyes wide in shock.
He hadn't expected a wolf-type mutant to be hiding among the crowd, striking down one of the group members in a brutal ambush.
Judging from its speed and power, this beast was easily on par with either him or Yan Qinran.
Although it had seemed like Yan Qinran effortlessly slayed that mutant wolf just now, Zhao Feng noticed something others didn't.
That explosive burst of strength—doubling her speed and power—came at a steep price.
Her face had gone pale as paper, and her legs trembled slightly under her weight.
Clearly, splitting that wolf in two was far from effortless.
Still, Zhao Feng had only watched from a distance. Not because he didn't want to help—but because he believed they could handle it.
Had it not been for that unexpected casualty, the taekwondo club likely would've been able to deal with these wolves on their own, eventually.
After a moment of observing, Zhao Feng turned, ready to leave.
But then—
The floor beneath him began to tremble.
Dumm. Dumm. Dumm.
The sounds grew louder—like dozens of heavy feet stomping in perfect unison.
Rough clawing echoed up the metal stairwell from below.
The air thickened.
The stench of blood and rot intensified.
Zhao Feng's eyes narrowed. His expression darkened.
Without hesitation, he shouted toward the taekwondo club.
"Run! The wolves from the lower floors are charging up!"
Everyone—including the remaining wolves—froze in shock.
None of them had realized someone was hiding nearby, watching them.
But Yan Qinran didn't care about who the voice belonged to. She focused on the words alone.
Wolves... coming to the fourth floor?
Her pupils trembled. The red fury in her eyes faded, returning clarity to her gaze.
She snapped back to awareness in an instant.
It didn't need to be said—she knew immediately that the noise of their battle had drawn monsters from below.
"We need to get out of here—now!" she yelled.
The club members finally regained their senses and scrambled to flee the auditorium.
Panic flooded the room—heavy breaths, frantic footsteps, the lingering scent of blood and fear.
But the surviving wolves wouldn't let them leave so easily.
They lunged, blocking the exit.
Yan Qinran stood at the rear, shielding her teammates with trembling limbs. Her body was barely holding on—but she stood her ground.
Zhao Feng frowned as he watched.
Then, without hesitation, he transformed into a streak of blue lightning, flashing past the wolves like a phantom.
He reappeared behind them.
With a smooth motion, he raised his Stormblade Liuyedao.
Zaaash! Zaaash!
Several curved wind blades erupted from his swings, slicing through the air toward the wolves.
None of them saw the attack coming.
The razor-sharp winds cut deep into their flesh.
Auwooo!
Blood gushed. The monsters howled in agony.
Yan Qinran didn't waste the chance.
She clasped her hands into a triangle, eyes clear and sharp once more.
A heartbeat later—
Fwoooosh—
A stream of fire swept across the floor, engulfing the wolves in relentless flames.
Zhao Feng added more slashes of wind, finishing off the remaining ones.
As the last wolf fell, Zhao Feng prepared to leave.
But then he turned, catching a glimpse of Yan Qinran.
She stood frozen in place.
Her face had gone ghost-white. Her breaths came in shallow gasps. Her eyes were glazed, body trembling uncontrollably.
She was about to collapse—
But before her body hit the floor, a strong, warm arm wrapped around her waist.
In her blurred vision, she saw a man.
His face was calm and cold, but his eyes—sharp like a hawk—were deep and steady.
His embrace was firm… and warm…
So strange…
Why does this feel... so peaceful?
In the depths of her fading mind, a whisper echoed softly:
"This... feels like grandma's hug... warm..."
Her consciousness faded.
She fell into the man's arms.
Some of the club members who glanced back froze in place.
They stared with confused awe.
"Who… is that guy?" one whispered.
"Don't tell me… is he Captain's boyfriend?" a girl murmured.
Zhao Feng merely raised an eyebrow, lips curling slightly.
This situation felt… familiar.
He remembered when he carried Xiao Yuyan away from a monster attack.
But there was no time for sentiment.
With one hand supporting Yan Qinran's body, Zhao Feng dashed out of the auditorium—before the monsters from below could swarm the floor.