Little Pink Starfish

Yuan Yuanyuan landed squarely in front of the people who had run out. Without saying a single word, she bound them all up and tossed them aside, then turned and charged toward the swarm of little demons.

Well, since she was already down here—might as well not waste time doing it twice.

She pulled out her small knife and plunged into the cluster of low-tier demons like a wolf among sheep. Sheep without a guard dog.

Within moments, she tore open a path through the horde like a bulldozer, vines scattering through the moonlit sky.

Yuan Yuanyuan saw another small demon coming toward her. Without a sound, she slid the knife into her hand.

This one was clearly a newcomer—probably his first time joining a Hyakki Yagyō (Night Parade of a Hundred Demons). He had no combat technique whatsoever, just lunging forward by instinct.

Understandable, really. She’d been like that too, back when she was still a minor demon.

But now, watching this sloppy attack, she couldn’t help but cringe. She’d been reading The Blood Jade Demon Manual, a book so detailed it broke down every single muscle group, and after studying that, this kind of brawling was just… unbearable.

The small demon didn’t even realize she was approaching. He was still flailing around excitedly. But the veteran demon beside him picked up on something being off.

The person who’d just been standing there was gone.

He scanned the area, focusing on a faint red mist drifting around. The moment it reappeared, a cold smile spread across his face.

“Got you.”

With a sudden surge, his left hand expanded, turning monstrous and huge—so big it shoved a dozen nearby demons aside. Gasps echoed across the field.

His hand was no longer human—it had transformed into a massive claw that sliced the air.

This demon was clearly no novice. In this area, he was considered a bit of a local big shot—hot-tempered and formidable. The moment Yuan clashed with him, she realized: this was different from beating up cannon-fodder demons.

“You came to take my head?” the demon sneered. “How bold. First let’s see if you survive.”

He’d already pegged her as an illusionist-type demon—masters of trickery, ambush, and stealth kills. They were typically adept at illusions, shadow arts, and various esoteric abilities.

Illusion-type demons—“Gui” demons—were known for their trickery, deceit, and misdirection. But mastery required more than just talent—it demanded dedication. While most demons dabbled in it, few specialized. Especially nowadays, where relying solely on illusions was too risky.

A pure illusion-type demon charging into battle was like a glass-cannon rogue going solo against a whole army.

In modern demon society, most paired illusion skills with something more direct—melee or elemental spells. Relying on illusion alone was… outdated.

This guy hadn’t recognized Yuan at all—didn’t even connect her to Yuan. He swung his massive claw down, trying to crush her into retreat.

The standard tactic against illusion demons was simple: remove empty space.

Illusion demons moved best through open terrain. Remove that, and they lost their mobility. Even better, forcing them out of hiding made it easier for a crowd to swarm them.

So… illusion types were actually poorly suited for big-boss roles. They excelled when guarding a boss or operating in small skirmishes. But once discovered in a big battle? They were prime targets.

And this demon? He caught on quickly.

“Set it on fire!” he roared.

At his command, surrounding small demons unleashed their fire-based arts. From above, the scene was… spectacular.

Heat surged upward, and shouts and screams filled the air.

They weren’t strong individually, but they followed orders well. With teamwork, the whole field became a fiery crucible. Even the young willow trees caught fire, lighting the entire sports field.

From above, it looked like dozens of sacrificial pyres burning in the rain, casting flickering light on the buildings and filling every dark corner with firelight.

People at the windows flinched as flames flashed upward. Crackling sounds rang out. The security team scrambled to douse the flames.

“What the hell is going on?” someone upstairs yelled.

“No clue.” Another whispered, “There are so many demons… they stretch as far as the eye can see.”

No one knew when it had happened, but the field was now completely overrun. The clouds above were oppressive, and demons were falling from the sky in endless waves—like a black river connecting heaven and earth.

Each demon looked like something dredged from a nightmare, the kind of monster you swore you’d seen in your dreams.

It was horrifying. One girl, face pale, whispered, “I don’t think I’ll ever forget this in my life.”

Even in her worst dreams, she’d never imagined anything this insane.

Yuan Yuanyuan dropped underground just as a fireball lit up near her. She hadn’t planned to dive, but with demon-fire even the earth was scorching. She grimaced and retreated.

What the hell? Where did all these come from?

Just minutes ago, it wasn’t this bad. Now it was like someone opened a hellgate.

And then more demons dropped from the sky—like roaches. Endless.

Were there hundreds? Thousands?

Yuan Yuanyuan was stunned. It felt like the situation had exploded in seconds.

The people upstairs couldn’t hear the sounds on the ground, but Yuan could. And these weren’t sounds that came through ears—they vibrated straight into your skull.

She didn’t care that illusion demons weren’t suited for battlefields. Hell, she probably didn’t even know that. Her eyes were locked on the demon who gave the fire command.

She was focused. Excited.

That dumb bravery that only rookies had—what people called “calf-fearless-in-the-face-of-tigers” energy.

Because in her mind, it was simple:

Take out the leader, and the rest will fall.

That demon wasn’t technically a boss, but in this swarm, he was functionally a general. Like a queen ant surrounded by workers.

It was… nature, she guessed?

Yuan crept forward like a cat, gripping her knife. The heat was intense, but she calculated she could last maybe 5–6 seconds in it.

If she couldn’t kill him in 5 seconds… she wouldn’t need to leave.

There wouldn’t be a way out.

Strangely, she felt no fear. Only excitement.

All her senses honed in on one thing—the sound of his heartbeat.

Thump, thump.

The security team had already extinguished most of the fire, but the ground was scorched. Probably wouldn’t grow grass for a year.

Yuan licked her lips, a gleam of bloodlust in her eyes.

This was her “big moment” instinct again—the same feeling that struck when she was about to pull something huge.

She moved like a ghost, knife spinning lightly in her hand.

Upstairs, people began to notice.

“Where’s Yuan?” someone asked nervously.

The vines on the wall were still intact, so they knew he hadn’t died. But his shadow was gone.

People looked out the windows, eyes searching for him.

And then—they saw it.

A silhouette emerged.

He rose from the shadows like a phantom. Surrounded by demons, he stood out starkly—a silent figure sliding into the heart of the chaos.

He looked like something from a myth—an assassin who could steal your heart and soul.

And no one could stop him.

In the next breath, he was there—right in front of the fire-commanding demon. His knife flashed like a butterfly wing, and before anyone could react, he slit the demon’s throat cleanly.

That demon’s face froze—stunned, confused—before he collapsed.

An illusion-type? Where had he come from?

Seriously, what the hell—did you go to demon school or not? Who let you charge into melee range!?

He died with the most confused expression—like he couldn’t find his way to the underworld.

“Ah!” Gao Ling upstairs screamed. Her brain short-circuited.

He’s out there! What if he gets stuck!?

Then Yuan showed them what kind of monster he really was.

He looked around at the demons surrounding him—and vanished.

Just disappeared.

A faint red mist shimmered in the air. Maybe because of the heat, his body occasionally flickered into visibility, but no one could follow his movement.

One moment he was surrounded. The next—gone.

It was stunning. The contrast of his single figure against a swarm of monsters was theatrical, almost painterly.

He stood alone, smiling faintly, like a figure in a war painting.

Gao Ling’s whole body jolted like she’d been electrocuted.

For just a second, she thought—what is Yuan smiling at?