n that fleeting moment, Mo Lin produced nearly three hundred thousand Nether Coins. Such a sum staggered belief—Qian Yun's family had strained to muster but twenty thousand, and Li Bingyan herself scarcely more. Yet Mo Lin laid forth triple that figure without a second thought, a testament to his unrivaled prowess. Time and again, he shattered his companions' preconceptions—witnessing him forge a Lethal-tier specter banished any lingering arrogance from Gong Xiu.
"Begin!" Mo Lin commanded, issuing his decree with unshakeable calm. Ice Jade was first to strike, her arm slicing through a Nightmare-tier wraith's chest in a single, graceful arc; her other hand thrust in, tearing the ghost cleanly in two. Nearby, Chen Xi bit off a phantom's severed limb and swallowed it, her macabre appetite undeterred. Each wraith Gong Xiu had kept in reserve fell in swift succession.
"Stop squandering time!" Gong Xiu snarled at a dark-clad figure lingering at the fray—one human amidst the specters. "Act now, or my children perish here!" With reluctant haste, the man lifted his cowl, revealing bronzed skin, and fired a signal pistol skyward.
A thunderous bloom like a firework lit the night. Crimson vans emerged, disgorging fifty men in scarlet robes, arranged in five squads. Their leader brandished a sword forged from copper coins; his brethren followed with wooden blades. Together their qi coalesced into the towering silhouette of a Daoist exorcist—an aura lethal to ghosts.
Li Hui whispered, aghast, "Mortals consorting with demons—this is abhorrent."
Mo Lin nodded. "You know of the Two Talismans and Three Swords?"
"Yes," Li Hui replied. "The Three Swords: the Exorcist's Heavenly Blade, the Peachwood Warder, and the Copper-Coin Slayer. These are disciples of the Copper-Coin Celestial Office, wielding its replica swords."
At Mo Lin's signal, a young adept lunged, his copper blade gleaming. The giant qi-figure followed, its stroke severing Chen Xi's arm in a burst of white vapor. Against the exorcists' combined might, the phantoms found themselves outmatched—utterly overwhelmed.
A new roar split the air: black helicopters descending in formation. Dozens of Special Tactics operatives, led by Li Bingyan, disgorged rifles and tactical gear. They fanned out, encircling the exorcists, barrels raised.
"So the Ghost-Taming Society thinks itself untouchable?" Li Bingyan's voice cut like steel. "Meet true discipline." Her team's unwavering aim left Shen Fei and his fellows pale with dread; rifles trained on them, no mercy implied.
Li Bingyan glanced at Mo Lin. "All right here?" he gave a curt nod. "Join the Ghost-Taming Society—no loss, I promise. Ghosts I leave to you, but as for men… I am their sovereign."
Li Hui watched in quiet awe. In this age of wonders, each menace found its counter: coin-swords for specters, bullets for traitors. At Li Bingyan's command, her operatives stood poised—an unspoken pledge to excise this malign alliance and restore order.