Chapter 115: I Know That Werewolf

No sooner had Ou Xiaolu followed the direction the girl had left than he heard chaotic screams ahead. A large crowd of men and women, out for shopping, fled as if escaping disaster. Many ran past a corner, then dropped to the ground, clutching their heads and sobbing uncontrollably.

Ou Xiaolu had no idea what was happening, but his innate curiosity—though sometimes reckless—propelled him like the wind toward the source of the chaos.

Rounding the corner, he saw a cowboy standing atop a car. Around him were policemen, guns drawn but hesitating to raise fire.

Facing the cowboy was the very girl Ou Xiaolu had been watching.

What exactly was going on, he didn’t know. All he saw was the cowboy pressing his hand against the revolver at his waist, shouting loudly, “This doesn’t concern you gray-skinned mutts. Get lost, or the next bullet won’t just make a hole in your hat.”

Yet the police dared not just retreat. This was the heart of the city, the eyes of countless onlookers fixed on them. If they ran today, tomorrow they'd truly be finished.

But they couldn’t fire either. When they had closed in earlier, the cowboy had already demonstrated his prowess—six shots sounded like one; bullets had blasted six police badges off their hats.

Unlike the timid cops, the girl’s gaze was fierce as a tiger’s. She hissed, “I told you, I don’t recognize this place. I don’t want to be a celebrity. I won’t tell you my name, I don’t want to know you, and I have no time to eat with you. Now get lost.”

Hearing this familiar line, Ou Xiaolu couldn’t help but smile. It seemed she used this same speech on everyone—probably tired of being asked the same questions over the years.

The cowboy, however, disliked the topic. He grinned, “Listen, little lady, when I invite you for a drink, it’s because I think highly of you. You know, if I said the word, women lining up to drink with me could stretch all the way down this street.”

“Not much of a choice,” she retorted mockingly. “The men I turn down every day could stretch from here to the outskirts of the city.”

The cowboy’s face darkened at her taunt. He snorted, “I’m taking you with me whether you like it or not.”

With that, he leapt down from the car roof and lunged at the girl, apparently intent on forcibly seizing her.

The police, unwilling but compelled, raised their guns and fired repeatedly at the cowboy.

But bullets ricocheted off with no effect. The cowboy moved faster than any normal person could imagine. Where he had been five or six meters away just moments before, he was now right in front of the girl in the blink of an eye.

Perhaps unwilling to kill her outright, the cowboy did not draw his gun. Instead, he reached out to grab her, trying to drag her away.

At the instant his hand reached for her, the girl struck him with a powerful punch to the head. There was a loud thud as the cowboy staggered backward several steps, crashing heavily against the car.

The car’s tire exploded, windows shattered—everyone present was stunned. No one believed the chaos was the cowboy’s doing; it was clearly the girl’s punch that caused it.

Even from a distance, Ou Xiaolu was amazed by her strength. No wonder the coward said this girl could kill him with one punch. Without his Purple Veil Garment, Ou Xiaolu himself wouldn’t withstand such a blow.

The cowboy sprang back to his feet, his head tilted awkwardly to one side, yet he stood as if nothing had happened, flexing his limbs.

After adjusting his crooked head and carefully removing his hat, placing it on a nearby roof, he smirked arrogantly: “Do you know you’ve just angered me?”

The girl clenched her fists tighter, watching the cowboy’s posturing. If he charged again, she was ready to use even more force—no longer holding back as if fighting an ordinary person.

Without further pretense, the cowboy stripped off his shirt. Just as everyone braced for a street brawl, thick black fur sprouted all over his body.

Under the astonished gazes, the cowboy transformed into a towering werewolf, standing nearly three meters tall.

Watching from afar, Ou Xiaolu immediately recognized him as one of the Brest family’s werewolves—the very one resembling the creature still hanging at the valley’s entrance.

Drawing his long sword, Ou Xiaolu prepared to seize an opportunity to strike down the werewolf.

The beast seemed unaware of Ou Xiaolu behind him, its eyes locked only on the girl before it. Now fully transformed, the werewolf lunged forward with no intention of capturing her alive, its front claws swiping directly at her head.

Though she appeared delicate, the girl was far from weak. She dodged the wolf’s claws with a swift sidestep, delivering a punch to its waist with her right hand.

But this punch lacked the devastating force of the previous one. The werewolf only staggered half a step before bracing against it, then swung its left claw downward toward the girl’s head.

At that moment, a long sword suddenly transformed into a lion, appearing behind the werewolf.

The beast’s fur bristled as if sensing the sword’s lion-shaped energy.

Realizing the shift in danger, the werewolf released the girl, rolled away to knock over a car, and leapt to the side.

Turning back, it saw Ou Xiaolu standing with sword drawn, shielding the girl.

“Can you still fight? If not, get out of the way,” Ou Xiaolu commanded.

The girl recognized him as the young man who had approached her earlier and scowled, “You’ve been following me?”

“No, I just saw the fight and came to check it out. Usually, stone lions in front of homes come in pairs, but the werewolf corpse at my valley’s entrance is alone. It just doesn’t sit right with me.”

The werewolf snarled, pointing at Ou Xiaolu. “You’re the one who killed Alaric?”

Ou Xiaolu gave no answer, raising his sword and charging.

The girl moved even faster, rushing ahead while shouting, “This is my fight. I don’t need your help.”

Despite facing two attackers, the werewolf showed no fear. It bounced off the ground and leapt five or six meters into the air, clawing down at both of them.

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