While the old servant was deep in thought, out in the hunting grounds...
A lithe, agile figure was rapidly pushing forward in a specific direction—it was Tang Lanyan, making her way toward that building to uncover the truth.
Although she encountered a few more waves of opposition along the way, these adversaries paled in comparison to the base operatives and international experts she had faced earlier; they posed little real hindrance to her progress.
As she drew closer to the perimeter, Tang Lanyan's gaze grew increasingly resolute. She was now certain that her surroundings were not real—this was certainly not the jungle of northern Myanmar. The ring of mountains enclosing the area, in particular, resembled a Roman amphitheater.
She did not know what kind of power could alter the landscape on such a massive scale, but Tang Lanyan was not one to get bogged down or obsess over things she could not fathom.
That was simply her nature: decisive and swift, rarely hesitating. Relying on her exceptional combat instincts, she often found the path to the truth more easily than others.
She paid no heed to the origins of this colossal "hunting ground," yet she could keenly sense the distinction between the prey and the hunters.
She was, of course, the "prey." However, the others—including her former teammates—were not hunters; they were merely hounds.
Their role was to wear her down; once she was utterly exhausted, Luo Shaowen—who sat enthroned high above like a Roman emperor—would undoubtedly step down to face her himself.
That was when the true challenge would begin.
Yet, Tang Lanyan did not fear the challenge. Even if she was not in peak condition, the odds were stacked against her, and victory seemed unlikely, she would still meet the difficulty head-on—for within the greatest peril lay the opportunity to turn the tide. As long as there was even a glimmer of hope for victory—however faint—Tang Lanyan would never choose to give up.
It was not that Tang Lanyan lacked the capacity for strategic thought; in fact, as Zhao Zhiran's older sister, she possessed an intellect few could rival. Yet, unlike Zhiran, she was a warrior through and through. While even Zhao Zhiran might falter in her planning when faced with unforeseen crises, Tang Lanyan would simply press forward, undeterred.
Once she set her sights on a goal, she never wavered—much like the time in Northern Myanmar, where she had fought fiercely until the very last moment.
As she drew closer to the perimeter of the "hunting ground," Tang Lanyan realized that what had appeared from afar to be mountain peaks was actually a massive encircling wall. It had been disguised using holographic projection technology, though the illusion betrayed its flaws upon closer inspection.
From this vantage point, the towering Luo Corporation headquarters outside the perimeter was no longer hidden; it stood in plain sight, gleaming—much like the imperial box of a Roman emperor.
At the summit of the Luo Corporation headquarters...
Luo Shaowen was watching intently. Cameras installed throughout the perimeter walls and the jungle captured Tang Lanyan's movements from every angle.
Even at this distance, Luo Shaowen—now possessing a "pseudo-Pure Yang body"—could see Tang Lanyan clearly. As if sensing his gaze, she suddenly looked up and glanced in his direction; for a fleeting moment, their eyes seemed to lock across the void.
After a long pause, the corners of Luo Shaowen's mouth curled into a smile—a predatory grin that hinted at a thirst for blood.
He had been watching her every move. Tang Lanyan had once again exceeded his expectations; one had to admit that the title "Queen of Battle" was truly well-deserved. The reason he planned to "let the tiger return to the wild" this time was his realization that a woman like the "War Queen" could never be truly subdued—let alone broken—simply by keeping her locked in a secret chamber for sex; no matter how many times they coupled, she would always stand toe-to-toe with him.
In those exhilarating, unbridled battles—where his seed was spent and his member throbbed with a delicious ache—her lithe, shapely legs would clamp around his waist like iron pincers, driving his body to its absolute limits and wringing every last drop of intensity from him.
The mere memory of that dangerous, carnal union—which made his muscles go taut and his body tremble—sent a wave of heat surging through him, causing his groin to engorge until his member stood erect like a formidable, shocking pillar.
Luo Shaowen knew this was an instinctive physiological reaction—a primal urge to contend, akin to the adrenaline-fueled tremors felt before a battle. Yet, far from suppressing the sensation, he reveled in it.
The body's influence on the mind is far greater than one might imagine; whenever he inhabited a new body, it took a long time to fully adapt to it.
For instance, if the soul of an octogenarian were to enter the body of an adolescent boy, it would inevitably be swayed by that youthful physique; the individual's conduct and depth of character would no longer possess the same maturity and composure as before.
Moreover, every body possesses unique traits that shape personality. With repeated body-swapping, these influences accumulate; over time, the personality shifts so drastically that the individual becomes, for all intents and purposes, a completely different person.
He felt this way when looking back at the man he had been two hundred years ago—a slave owner in North America—viewing his past methods as foolish and crude, unworthy of true sophistication.
This shift occurred as Eastern influence spread westward and he adopted an Asian body; the combination of that physique and Eastern culture exerted a profound impact on him.