Chapter 663: Sorry to Embarrass You
An Ran considered herself already as low-profile as possible. Throughout all the chaos inside the Grand Fortune Hotel, she had acted no different from any other ordinary woman. So what exactly had made Yang Ziyi and his men so determined to kill her?
“Because only when you die will the real An Ran cease to exist!”
Yang Ziyi stood before her, raising the knife high. Just as he was about to stab downward, the blade froze in midair.
His comrades behind him sensed something was wrong and stepped forward cautiously. Then, instead of the terrified pleas they expected, they heard An Ran speak again—her tone calm and curious.
“I don’t quite understand,” she said evenly. “You all seem capable fighters, and two of you are in uniform—soldiers, I presume? Let me ask once more: why are you helping Chen Chaofa kill me?”
“You idiot!” The voice came from Zhao Ru, who had managed to circle back with several pursuers on her tail. She vaulted over a few low tables and shouted, “If you die, Chen Chaofa can take your appearance and order Jiang Peng to release everyone from the hotel!”
“Oh.” An Ran nodded slightly, realization dawning. “So that’s how it is. I didn’t know I’d become so famous.” Her lips curved into a faint smile. “But since you know who I am, shouldn’t you also know what I’m capable of?”
These men—mere ordinary humans, none of them metal-type ability users—where did they find the confidence to come for her head?
“Your plants are no longer under your control,” another man said proudly, stepping forward. He cast a sideways glance at Yang Ziyi, only to notice something strange—his superior was still holding the knife, but his face was frozen, eyes wide. The man looked back at An Ran, sneering. “We’ve studied you thoroughly. Other than your husband, what do you have left? That woman beside you? What can she do?”
He gestured toward Zhao Ru, who had already reached An Ran’s side.
To be fair, Zhao Ru could fight—she had martial training—but she was no match for hardened soldiers forged by real combat. They didn’t take her seriously at all.
But as the man laughed, his voice suddenly cut off. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yang Ziyi’s mouth gape unnaturally wide. From between his teeth, a delicate white flower bloomed.
It was snow-white—so pure it was nearly transparent, like frost crystals glinting in the dim light. A faint, elegant fragrance spread through the air, beautiful yet hauntingly wrong.
Because the prettier the bloom, the bloodier the soil it grew from.
Within moments, Yang Ziyi’s whole body began to sprout. His skin cracked like dry earth, splitting open as tender green shoots pushed through, covering his face in writhing vines.
“I think you all forgot one thing,” An Ran said pleasantly, her voice as calm as ever. “I may have lost control over ordinary plants—but mutated ones were never under my control to begin with.”
Her smile deepened.
A deafening crack split the marble beneath her feet. Behind her, a massive fleshy tongue burst through the floor, glistening with slime. It coiled upward, unfolding above her head into a bloom of fleshy petals, glimmering wet and alive—like a monstrous octopus made of meat.
Its shriek echoed through the first-floor lobby, reverberating endlessly through the air.
“Let me introduce it,” An Ran said mildly, tilting her head toward the stunned, speechless men. “This is Flesh Flower.” She gave a small, apologetic smile, gesturing toward the enormous creature looming behind her. “Food’s been scarce lately, so it’s been growing a bit slowly. Took it two or three days to crawl all the way here from Hedong. Sorry to embarrass you.”