Chapter 129: Whoever Moves Dies

The middle-aged man collapsed. His hands clamped around his throat in a death grip. Veins bulged across his contorted face while his legs spasmed uncontrollably.

The horrifying sight brought the panicked crowd to a dead halt. A few guests, however, had been running too fast to kill their momentum and spilled out through the main doors. Without exception, everyone who crossed the threshold instantly collapsed. As if controlled by invisible hands, they clamped their fingers around their own throats and thrashed violently on the floor.

Qian Zihao's face paled at the sight. He scrambled to stop, but the sheer momentum of his massive frame made it impossible to halt on a dime. Just then, a silver ring on his fat finger flickered with a subtle gleam. His bulky figure seemed to shrink a fraction, and his legs took root in the floor, bringing him to a sudden, dead stop.

He let out a heavy breath.

He panted, greasy sweat already beading on his fat face.

The guests who had spilled out the doors twitched a few times before falling completely still.

Silence! The crowd plunged into a deathly stillness. It is a well-known fact that people cannot make a sound in moments of extreme terror. Screaming is often just an outlet for fear, but when true terror floods in like a tidal wave, suffocating the mouth and nose, the throat locks up, stifling any voice.

The only sound left in the entire banquet hall was the piano, which hadn't stopped playing since the beginning.

No one knew why the pianist was so dedicated—how could he keep playing at a time like this? Strangely, the music grew more fitting by the second. Matching the suffocating, almost stagnant atmosphere in the hall, the piano shifted into a low, oppressive melody.

However, no one had the luxury of paying attention to the pianist right now.

The paralyzing grip of fear spread through everyone's bodies. Nobody could have imagined that the masked man's methods would be so bizarre—killing people without even touching them.

Clap, clap...

The masked man on the stage clapped his hands. "Ladies and gentlemen, the night is young. I expect Murong Zhuo won't be back for quite some time. Until then, how about we play a little game?"

The crowd stared at the masked man in sheer terror, not daring to make a sound. Even Murong Yun and the other Transcendents were deeply wary of him. With his ghostly speed and bizarre methods of murder, he had effortlessly played the strongest among them—the Murong Family Head—for a fool. Facing an expert of this caliber, who would dare make a rash move?

In the crowd, Su Mu and Nangong Mengli were still putting on an act. Su Mu wore a perfectly measured look of fear, his body trembling slightly as he did his best to blend in with the terrified masses.

Nangong Mengli, meanwhile, feigned a mix of anger, shock, and dread, as if she still couldn't accept that the Eye of Gold had been snatched away right before her eyes.

The two superb actors supported each other, staring up at the masked man just like everyone else—like sinners waiting for a deity to pass judgment.

"How did you do it?" Nangong Mengli whispered, bringing her red lips close to Su Mu's ear. Her quiet voice carried a trace of warmth. She was genuinely curious. She knew the masked man was just a phantom Su Mu had conjured up, but where was the voice coming from? And how exactly did those people at the doors die?

Could an Illusion Technique alone really achieve all of this?

Still acting terrified, Su Mu kept trembling and didn't answer. He didn't think this was a good time for explanations.

He was the only one who knew the real answer. The masked man was indeed a phantom he had created using Myriad Phenomena, while the voice was simulated by the Artifact, Soundless Heavenly Melody. As for the sudden blackout and the deaths of those who crossed the threshold, those were merely the work of "actors" he had arranged in advance.

Before the banquet began, he had disguised himself as a waiter to slip in early, randomly selecting a batch of "lucky" guests to hypnotize. In other words, half the people in this entire banquet hall were his pawns.

All he had to do was position his "insiders" near the doors beforehand. Once they took the lead in rushing out, the hypnotic suggestion would trigger, forcing them to strangle themselves to death.

With his current mental strength, hypnotizing a few ordinary people into committing suicide was incredibly easy.

The reason a handful of people had to die, of course, was to deter Murong Yun and the other Transcendents. If the masked man only ever dodged without launching a single attack, it wouldn't be long before someone realized something was wrong. Therefore, to sell this grand performance, a few casualties were strictly necessary.

More importantly, his core objective tonight was to kill Murong Zhuo. However, if Murong Zhuo were the only one to die, his intentions would be far too obvious. That was why he chose to escalate the situation as much as possible. The bigger the spectacle, the harder it would be for anyone to guess his true motive.

"Change to something a bit more intense," the masked man instructed the nearby pianist. Like a puppet on strings, the pianist immediately shifted his style at the command. Bam, bam, bam...

Heavy notes were struck with fierce intensity, surging powerfully like turbulent ocean waves. The melody shifted between the fury of a violent storm and the thunderous charge of ten thousand galloping horses. Every heavy strike against the keys felt like a hammer blow against the hearts of the crowd.

Taking advantage of the masked man's distraction as he requested a song, Murong Yun shot a subtle glance at the Transcendents beside him. They nodded solemnly and quietly fanned out to encircle the masked man.

Just then, the masked man suddenly turned his head, startling the group into freezing in their tracks.

He completely ignored the creeping Transcendents and addressed the panicked crowd with immense amusement. "And now, the game begins. The name of this game is... whoever moves, dies."

His slow, unhurried voice lacked any sharp edge, yet to the ears of the crowd, it sounded like a death warrant.

Damn it! Murong Yun cursed violently in his head. He never expected that right on the Murong Family's home turf, they would be completely controlled by a single mysterious figure. He knew he had to do something right now; otherwise, how could the Murong Family ever hold their heads high again?

Just as he was about to give the order to attack, a man in the crowd wearing a sharp suit and heavy foundation kept trembling, seemingly unable to control his overwhelming terror.

"You moved," a teasing voice echoed from beneath the Silver-White Mask. Everyone instantly tensed, their eyes locked onto his next move. They watched as the masked man slowly raised his right arm, shaping his pristine, white-gloved hand into a gun.

"Bang!" the masked man mimicked the sound of a gunshot with his mouth, as if pulling a childish prank. But terrifyingly, the very moment the "gun" sounded, without a single bullet being fired, the man in the heavy foundation let out a bloodcurdling scream. He clutched tightly at his chest and crashed to the floor.

His face was twisted in sheer horror, and his stiff body lay on the floor, utterly devoid of life!

This bizarre scene terrified Murong Yun so much that he didn't dare make a single move. His eyes widened in disbelief, waves of shock surging in his heart.

Just what kind of method was this!? Without a single bullet, how could he kill someone from a distance? Was there anything like this among the known Laws?!

With the man's sudden death, the people standing right next to him finally buckled under the pressure and shrieked in terror.

"Ah!! I don't want to die!"

"Help!!"

The frantic guests scrambled over each other, desperately trying to flee. They were completely blinded by panic, running in every direction. Yet in reality, these people were nothing more than actors being manipulated by Su Mu.