"Eternal life?"
Spider-Man panted heavily, every cell in his body screaming with exhaustion.
"Sounds nice, but my health insurance doesn't cover dental. If I grow fangs after turning into one of those 'demons' you mentioned, who do I file a claim with?"
He used quips to mask his weakness while his brain raced, searching for a way to escape.
The man before him was the most troublesome enemy he had encountered so far; physical attacks were almost ineffective, his regenerative ability was ridiculously fast, and his attack methods were extremely bizarre.
Muzan ignored his jokes. In those scarlet eyes, there was only a condescending scrutiny, as if looking at a piece of private property about to be branded.
"Refusal is foolish. You have no choice."
The drop of eerie blood on his fingertip emitted an ominous aura that made Spider-Man's Spider-Sense sting like needles.
Just then, a large, crumbling concrete slab on the exterior wall of a nearby building, damaged by the battle, finally gave way. With a harsh cracking sound, it plummeted toward the Police officers below who were evacuating civilians!
"Look out!"
Spider-Man's reaction bypassed thought. Without a second thought, he turned and rushed toward the officers, firing his wrists simultaneously as dozens of tough webs shot out instantly.
They wove together in mid-air into a massive white web, steadily catching the concrete slab that was heavy enough to crush a person into pulp.
With his back to Muzan, his muscles tensed as he used all his strength to pull the web toward a safe, open area.
This momentary opening was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for Muzan.
A prey that craves power yet fears death makes the best puppet. And a hero obsessed with saving the weak is the most perfect material.
This ridiculous sense of "responsibility" is their most fatal weakness.
Muzan's figure faded from where he stood. The next moment, he appeared silently behind Spider-Man, moving so fast that the air didn't even have time to ripple.
The fingertip, condensed with his thousand-year curse and power, aimed at Spider-Man's undefended nape.
"Accept this 'gift,' and then serve me, Spider-Man."
He whispered, his voice filled with the joy of imminent success.
The alarm of his Spider-Sense exploded in Peter's mind, reaching an unprecedented peak, almost tearing his consciousness apart. But he was currently using all his strength to support the boulder above, unable to make any evasive maneuvers.
It's over.
This was the only thought that flashed through Peter's mind.
Just one-thousandth of a second before Muzan's fingertip was about to touch Spider-Man's skin.
A beam of white light tore through the night, carrying destructive power, shooting from the other end of the street at a terrifying speed three times that of sound!
The light was so brilliant that it eclipsed the searchlights of the helicopters.
It wasn't aimed at Spider-Man; the target was maddeningly precise—it was Muzan's hand that was about to succeed!
"What?! —"
Muzan's pupils contracted sharply; he felt a terrifying energy capable of threatening his life.
He wanted to pull back, to dodge, but the speed of that light was simply too fast!
"Boom —!"
A deafening roar swept through the entire street.
The white beam accurately pierced Muzan's right shoulder and half of his chest.
It wasn't a simple penetration, but a violent, destructive vaporization. The hit area, along with that precious drop of blood, evaporated instantly without a trace, not even leaving a scrap of flesh behind.
The powerful kinetic energy sent Muzan flying like a ragdoll. He tumbled through the air and crashed heavily into the display window of a luxury store on the street, triggering a series of loud glass-shattering sounds.
The sudden turn of events left everyone stunned.
Spider-Man struggled to toss the concrete slab aside and looked back sharply, just in time to see this scene.
At the end of the street, under the misty glow of a streetlamp, a girl with tea-colored hair wearing a regular school uniform stood quietly.
She maintained a pose with her thumb extended forward. Where Muzan had just been standing, a game coin, slightly reddened by high heat and intense friction, fell onto the wet ground with a "ding."
Blue-white electric arcs, like untamed sprites, danced joyfully on her bangs and fingertips, emitting a faint "crackling" sound.
The night wind blew through her short hair, revealing a delicate and cold face. In those tea-colored pupils, undisguised anger and killing intent burned.
It was Mikoto.
Peter's heart skipped a beat.
"You bastard—"
From the rubble, Muzan's figure slowly stood up. The half of his body that had been blown away was regenerating at a speed visible to the naked eye; wriggling flesh tissue proliferated wildly, restoring him to normal within seconds.
But his expression now no longer had its previous composure and elegance; instead, it was replaced by a rage at being offended.
He stared fixedly at the girl who had suddenly appeared, killing intent bared in his scarlet eyes.
However, when he saw the [Guardian Faction] emblem emitting a soft white light on the side of the girl's field of vision—visible only to them, the "players"—his anger was as if doused by a bucket of ice water.
Another player.
And from the Guardian Faction.
The energy level of that strike just now was far beyond any weapon he knew. The danger level of this girl was more than an order of magnitude higher than that weirdly dressed man.
Muzan was an extreme egoist; all his actions were guided by the highest principles of "survival" and "efficiency."
Getting into a death match with such an unfathomably powerful enemy, and exposing more of his trump cards here, would be of no benefit to his ultimate goal of finding the Blue Spider Lily and overcoming sunlight.
Not worth it.
This thought flashed through his mind.
"It seems there's another uninvited guest at tonight's party."
Muzan's voice returned to being cold. As he spoke, he imperceptibly retreated into the shadows.
Mikoto didn't reply, just raised her hand again, and another game coin appeared at her fingertips.
She made her attitude clear through her actions.
"Trying to run?" Mikoto's voice was cold as ice.
"Did you ask me?"
"Hehehe—" Muzan laughed lowly.
"I admit you are strong. But, little girl, do you really have the energy to spare to chase me?"
Before the words had even faded, his figure surged forward violently, but not toward Mikoto or Spider-Man.
Instead, he rushed toward the few Police officers who had just escaped disaster and were still in a state of shock!
"Puchi! Puchi!"
Black thorny tentacles shot out from behind him like lightning, so fast that even Spider-Man couldn't stop them. The tentacles didn't pierce the officers' vital organs; they only left several deep, bone-exposing wounds on their arms and necks.
"Ahhh!"
A shrill scream rang out.
The bodies of the few officers who had been scratched began to undergo terrifying mutations.
Their eyes instantly bloodshot and turned crimson, weird blue veins appeared on their skin, their nails grew wildly into sharp claws, and they let out inhuman roars from their mouths as their skeletons twisted and deformed with "crackling" sounds.
In just a few short seconds, the few policemen who had upheld justice turned into demons, devoid of reason and left only with bloodthirsty instincts!
"Roar!"
The newborn demons smelled the scent of flesh nearby and immediately roared as they lunged at their surrounding colleagues and the civilians who hadn't run far yet.
"Damn it!"
Spider-Man cursed, immediately firing a web to pull back an officer who was about to have his neck bitten through.
Mikoto's brows also furrowed tightly. She could not let these monsters slaughter civilians here.
This momentary chaos had created the perfect escape opportunity for Muzan.
His body turned into a pool of shapeless black shadow, quickly blending into the darkness deep in the alley, his aura completely vanishing.
"I will remember you, little girl. We… will meet again."
In the shadows, only his final cold words remained, echoing in the night sky.