Douluo: This Legend of the Dragon King is not quite right

Chapter 290 The Tang Clan are all masters of poison
Lu Jun's gaze swept over each team member, filled with expectation.

However, when his gaze swept over Gu Yuena, he seemed to pause slightly. Gu Yuena also happened to look back, and their eyes met briefly in the air, each holding a deep meaning that only the other could understand.

However, Gu Yuena was even more confused.

In her eyes, Lu Jun was completely unharmed.

So he's faking illness?
But what was his reason for faking illness? And what was his purpose?
I don't understand, I don't get it.

Gu Yuena felt like her CPU brain was about to burn out.

I still don’t want to think about it too much.

Watching his teammates get into training, Lu Jun coughed a few more times, gestured to Wu Changkong, and then left the training ground and the academy alone, his steps slightly unsteady.

He didn't use any soul-guided transportation, nor did he have a specific destination. He simply wandered aimlessly along the bustling and noisy streets of Mingdu, like a young man recovering from a serious illness who wanted to clear his head.

The sunlight shone on his pale face, almost blinding him. He squinted slightly, his figure appearing particularly thin and helpless amidst the bustling crowd.

Just as Lu Jun turned onto a relatively quiet side road lined with tall sycamore trees on both sides.

About a hundred meters away from him, in the shadow of the roof of a luxury goods store decorated with a huge glass curtain wall.

A figure clung to the cold metal wall like a gecko, perfectly blending into the angled shadows created by the building's structure.

He wore a tight-fitting leather armor the same color as the shadows, and his face was covered by a black mask that only revealed his eyes. His eyes were as sharp as a hawk and as cold as a venomous snake, fixed on Lu Jun, the seemingly defenseless and weak boy walking on the street below.

This person's aura was almost perfectly concealed; his heartbeat, breathing, body temperature, and even soul power fluctuations were all reduced to the lowest point, like the most patient hunter waiting for his prey to enter the optimal ambush zone.

He was the titled Douluo sent by the Tang Sect who was skilled in stealth and concealment.

From inside the Title Douluo's communicator, a voice, altered and with a metallic, scraping quality, sounded low:

"Target has separated from the group. Status confirmed: persistent weakness, unstable mental strength, slow movement, and low vigilance. Guards: no personal guards. Leng Yulai's location has been confirmed; she is handling official business at the Spirit Tower headquarters. Harosa's whereabouts are unknown, but she is likely not nearby. Environment: moderate crowd, usable. Should we proceed with the initial probe as planned? Over."

The titled Douluo's cold eyes were fixed on Lu Jun's slightly swaying back, as if assessing the final risks.

His fingers silently rested on a strangely shaped short blade with a ghostly blue sheen at his waist.

At the edge of that short blade, one could vaguely see a trace of extremely fine, yet deadly, poison!

The opportunity... is right in front of us.

Should we choose Thunder Strike?
Or should we wait for a more perfect opportunity?

The Tang Clan are mostly masters of poison; a mere touch is almost always fatal. So how did they manage to knock Lu Jun unconscious, pack him up, and take him back to the Tang Clan headquarters?

The Title Douluo's breathing became extremely slow and long under his mask, like a venomous snake about to launch a fatal attack.

Lu Jun seemed oblivious to the chilling killing intent emanating from above. He kept his head down and walked slowly, as if he were immersed in his own world, or perhaps he was simply playing the role of a weak patient.

The leaves of the sycamore trees rustled in the breeze, and sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows that fell on Lu Jun's pale profile and on the poisoned dagger gripped tightly by the Title Douluo. The quiet street was now filled with impending doom.

However, in the next second, on the street below, the weak young man Lu Jun raised his head without warning, his gaze piercing through a hundred meters and landing directly on the corner of the shadow of the roof where he was hiding.

That gaze was as calm as a bottomless, icy pool, yet it possessed a strange penetrating power, as if all the carefully constructed shadows and disguises he had created, and the aura he had concealed to the extreme, had become laughable emperor's new clothes under that gaze.

The titled Douluo's pupils suddenly contracted, and his heart felt as if it were being gripped by an invisible hand.

"He discovered me?"

The thought exploded in the Title Douluo's mind like a thunderclap. A chill instantly shot from his spine to the top of his head, and the fingers resting on the poisoned dagger tensed up, his knuckles turning white.

All the muscles in his body instinctively entered a state of maximum alert, and his soul power surged like a raging torrent in his meridians, ready to unleash a fatal blow or flee thousands of miles away at any moment.

However, just as his nerves were stretched to the limit, and he was about to make a desperate move or escape, Lu Jun's gaze merely swept casually over his hiding place, as if he had only been attracted by a reflective spot on the roof.

Immediately afterwards, the boy lowered his head as if nothing had happened, and continued walking unsteadily, heading directly towards the Soul Guide Luxury Goods Store where he was.

One step, two steps... the distance is getting shorter.

The titled Douluo held his breath, his heart pounding like a drum, and cold sweat seeping from every pore.

He pressed himself against the cold metal wall, pushing his stealth technique to its limit. His body almost merged with the shadows, and even his thoughts seemed to freeze, leaving only the vigilance of a wild beast.

"Is this a coincidence? Or..."

He stared intently at the approaching figure, his mind highly focused, analyzing Lu Jun's every step, the slightest lean of his body, even the trembling of his eyelashes, trying to find any flaw in his disguise or intention to attack.

At this moment, the titled Douluo is like a fully drawn bow, the arrow on the string, ready to be released.

Lu Jun's steps were still unsteady, carrying the weakness of someone recovering from a serious illness, as he slowly moved under the shade of the sycamore tree.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves, dancing on his pale, almost translucent profile.

Finally, he reached the sidewalk directly below the store, no more than thirty meters away from the Title Douluo.

Just then, it was as if a gentle breeze had blown a fallen leaf, or as if light and shadow had flickered across the retina in an extremely brief and unnatural way.

The pause was less than 0.01 seconds.

The titled Douluo felt that the air around him trembled very slightly, almost imperceptibly, like a dragonfly skimming the water, leaving barely noticeable ripples.

His highly concentrated mental energy detected an extremely faint, fleeting spatial fluctuation, so faint that he thought it was a slight breeze caused by the passing soul-guided vehicle on the street below, or an illusion caused by his excessive tension.

Just as the ripples spread, Lu Jun's figure blurred eerily for a moment, faster than the limits of visual perception, leaving behind an almost indistinguishable afterimage.

At the same time, an indescribable aura, carrying a mysterious rhythm, like the softest feather, silently brushed against the Title Douluo's body pressed against the wall.

(End of this chapter)