In the elevator late at night, a long-haired female ghost crawls toward him.
Jiang Zhe calmly puts on his tactical gloves.
Ghost: Aren't you afraid of me?
Jiang Zhe: Your moves are too slow, and your recovery time is too long.
A perfect parry, sparks flying!
Jiang Zhe follows up with a Su-style back throw, slamming the ghost straight into the floor.
The Investigation Bureau agents are stunned. “That's an S-rank vengeful spirit, and you just threw it down?”
Jiang Zhe: “It's called tactical suppression. Ever heard of it?”
Deep within the forbidden zone, an Evil God descends.
Jiang Zhe calmly opens his backpack and combines some herbs.
“Give me two seconds. I need to sort out my inventory.”
As the Evil God stares in bewilderment, Jiang Zhe pulls out the Chicago Typewriter.
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
“Rules? With infinite ammo, I am the rules!”
Babies, can you read my book 😢