Strike!

He Zhao opened the Wooden Box, revealing a heart buried in lime—vigorous and still beating.

Those people chatting on the street today had omitted one thing: the corpse had been missing something.

Before dumping the body, he had mulled it over and removed the Demon Eater Heart, saving it for a rainy day.

Who could have expected that, one month later, he would actually need it?

"Pig Woman, oh, Pig Woman, for the sake of my little life, I can only wrong you." Having cuckolded Pig Woman once, He Zhao drew the hidden Short Blade from his waist, cut open the heart, and let its blood drip into a bowl.

From the diners' conversation, he could tell that Commander Wang was no good man.

If the Water Bandits reached the city walls, that bastard might very well flee Wancheng with his elite private soldiers. Or he might simply forcefully conscript troops and use the lives of the city's common folk to defend it to the death.

After all, he was an official. If he fled and the Great Xuan court held him accountable, even if they did not wipe out his entire clan, he would at least be sentenced to death by a thousand cuts.

And those who had once received martial arts training at Hengshan Boxing Gym were especially fine sources of soldiers.

When that time came, he would be in danger!

The battlefield was merciless. Even the Xuandu Army and Profound Armor Elites could not guarantee their own survival.

Old Jin?

What a joke. Unless one was a Secret Blood Warrior, who would go head-to-head with the authorities for a registered disciple accepted only after paying thirty taels of silver? Besides, even if Old Jin protected him, what would happen when the other disciples came begging? Would he protect them or not?

"A man must rely on himself!"

A famous saying from a doctor surfaced in his mind.

He Zhao remembered it with extraordinary clarity and felt that the man had spoken profound sense.

"Bzzzz—"

A massive amount of Spirit Power flooded into his eyes. Strange, invisible ripples spread outward, and the room swiftly lost all color, everything around him turning gray and decayed.

Instinctively holding his breath, he had no idea what sort of Monsters lurked in Wancheng's Spirit Realm. It never hurt to be careful. Worth mentioning was that the Spirit Realm here was far better than Qinghe Town's. At least this place was not as utterly dilapidated as the latter; the doors and windows remained intact.

He would not have to face an attack from some colossal creature the instant he appeared.

"Whew."

He let out a soft breath, only to draw it back in the next second.

A huge black shadow whooshed past the window.

"Chitter, chitter—"

"Caw!!"

"Hiss, hiss, hiss."

All kinds of sounds, near and distant, reached He Zhao's ears.

So many Aberrations!

He did not dare delay. Sitting on the ruined bed, he loosened the curtains to give himself a little more sense of security. He quickly stripped off his shirt and smeared Demon Eater Heart blood all over his body.

"Pfft—"

The Short Blade plunged into his chest. He Zhao gritted his teeth without making a sound.

Scalding blood coursed down the blade and drilled into his heart. His entire body seemed to be submerged in magma, and the intense agony nearly made him crush his teeth to pieces.

Time passed. He did not know how long it took, but only after the web-like bloodstains on his body gradually faded did he activate Spiritual Vision again and return to the real world.

"Urgh—"

He Zhao let out a muffled groan, clawing at his torso with both hands until his body was dripping with blood. Only after relieving most of the pain did he stop.

When the torture-like agony finally receded, he sensed the Aberration Blood flowing through his body. A notification suddenly popped up in the upper-left corner of his vision.

[Original Blood Warrior: 5%]

"It even shows the progress? Then can it show Unusual Scholar progress too?"

[Unusual Scholar: 21.7%]

Ruthless He Zhao's eyelids twitched. Trembling, he tossed his bloodstained shirt into the brazier and burned it, lamenting the gap between himself and the Hetu Dao Master. Then he got dressed and headed out to fetch water for a bath.

"Demon Eater."

Lying in the bath barrel, He Zhao recalled its special traits. Setting aside its taste for human flesh, its Agility and reaction were exceptional, and it possessed a recovery that could only be described as terrifying.

After wiping himself clean, he took one step forward with a whoosh.

He vanished from before the bed and appeared at the door.

"So fast!"

If He Zhao's speed before becoming an Original Blood Warrior had been 2, then at this very moment, it was a full 6.

"Three times!"

Unfortunately, he was still much slower than the Demon Eater's original speed.

He took out the Jade Register that Amplified speed from inside his shirt, poured a great amount of Spirit Power into it, and felt a whirlwind supporting his feet.

His figure flashed, and he crossed from the door to the bed.

"The Jade Register's Amplification is +5, so with all these factors stacking together, my speed is 11? No, no, no. At night, in combat, and with a Severe Injury, I gain +7. All told, it should be at least 18."

"Agility test complete. Next up."

"Pfft!"

He stabbed straight through his palm. Blood dripped into the brazier, producing hissing sounds.

"With Death Resistance, an injury like this takes three days to recover from."

In the blink of an eye, Sunset fell.

As He Zhao practiced his stance, his bandaged left hand began to itch unbearably. Yet he could not bear to interrupt his cultivation, so he could only grit his teeth and endure.

What a joke. He had endured pain comparable to torture when becoming an Original Blood Warrior. Mere itching and pain were nothing. He the Person feared nothing.

As time passed, the unbearable itch gradually weakened.

In the past, digesting six catties of Aberration flesh took twelve hours. Now, six hours was enough. Fortunately, his proficiency had not diminished, or He Zhao would have cried.

[Bronze Man Stance: 4401/10000 (Perfected)]

[Unknown Breathing Technique: 4401/10000 (Perfected)]

[Original Blood Warrior: 5.2%]

He merely glanced at it before turning his attention elsewhere and beginning to practice the Hengshan Fist taught by Old Jin.

This fist art had a full one hundred and eight forms for training, yet only three killing moves for actual combat.

He could only patiently practice the fist art over and over, never tiring of the repetition.

By dawn, he had completed exactly twenty-five rounds.

While practicing, he kept feeling as though he had overlooked something.

[Hengshan Fist: 0/500 (Proficient)]

Thanks to Child of the Night, every round of the fist art gave +3. Adding the original 1 point of proficiency, each complete round granted a full 4 points.

He Zhao wiped the sweat from his forehead, then cleaned the puddles from the floor before finally unwrapping his bandaged left hand.

Smooth and flawless as before!

"It recovered in one day. This Regeneration Power is terrifying indeed."

With this kind of recovery, he could use the Sacrificial Bone Dagger to stab himself in the heart three times without dying.

"Hetu Dao Master, just you wait!"

He was about to eat breakfast and rest when he abruptly froze mid-step.

Wait a second, 5.2%!

[Original Blood Warrior: 5.2%]

"???"

5.2%!!

Something was wrong. He had done nothing, so why had it increased by 0.2% instead?

No, the Stake Method and the breathing technique!

Pulling open his shirt, he discovered that he had expelled far more impurities than usual today.

"Breathing technique."

Remembering the sound of Old Jin's blood flowing like a brook, He Zhao thought, I searched high and low in worn-out shoes, only to find it without the slightest effort.

So he had been riding a donkey while looking for a donkey all along?

"Hahahaha!"

Having become an Original Blood Warrior in one breath and found a way to speed up the conversion of Mutated Blood, he was in exceptionally high spirits.

After breakfast, He Zhao took a stroll through the city and found the atmosphere even more oppressive than yesterday.

Not only were Commander Wang's elite private soldiers patrolling, but there were also many ordinary soldiers who looked like street thugs.

The smiles had vanished from the faces of the city's people. Every one of them looked troubled, terrified that the Water Bandits would come and massacre the city!

Clearly, they had very little faith in Wancheng's defensive strength.

Under this pessimistic atmosphere, a month swiftly passed.

The city began rationing grain purchases. Petty theft grew more frequent, and gang members who had been suppressing themselves for a long time began to stir restlessly as well.

Chaos was good!

The greater the chaos, the more they could fish in troubled waters and rake in wealth.

Meanwhile, He Zhao headed to the boxing gym. According to the rules, at the beginning of every month, Old Jin inspected the registered disciples' fist art proficiency.

[Bronze Man Stance: 4621/10000 (Perfected)]

[Unknown Breathing Technique: 4621/10000 (Perfected)]

[Burning Rage Method (Fragment): 3005/5000 (Great Accomplishment)]

[Hengshan Fist: 1400/5000 (Great Accomplishment)]

[Original Blood Warrior: 11%]

[Unusual Scholar: 27.7%]

Looking at the information, He Zhao had only two words for it—deeply satisfied.

Before long, he reached his destination.

The moment he stepped through the gate, he saw quite a few disciples already gathered around the Training Ground, with occasional cries of approval ringing out.

Old Jin lay in a rocking chair, narrowing his eyes as he observed the registered disciples' progress in the fist art.

"Sigh!"

More than a dozen had gone in succession, yet not a single one caught his eye.

Especially those registered disciples who had trained in the fist art for over a year. Their physical talent was genuinely good, and their aptitude was all above average. Unfortunately, their comprehension was as dull as Foolish Stone, and they were still some distance from Minor Accomplishment in the fist art.

Could such people help him compete for a Secret Blood Warrior slot?

Talent and comprehension were both indispensable. Even a slight lack of talent did not matter much.

While he was lost in thought, noon arrived.

"Next, Li Liang," Senior Disciple Brother called out.

He Zhao stepped forward. This was his alias, a homophone for strength!

He displayed the 1808-Style training forms one by one. At first, they flowed as smoothly as drifting clouds and running water, but later some of the forms became less than standard.

"Good!"

Old Jin shouted his approval, and the disciples immediately followed suit, their cheers rising and falling one after another.

Within the crowd, one person wore a dark expression, and the gaze he cast at He Zhao carried a faint hostility.

"In one month, your fist art has barely entered the Proficient level. This old man truly did not misjudge you." Old Jin cast an inconspicuous glance at the disciple with the ugly expression.

He Zhao's eyes were sharp. He instinctively looked over.

At once, a familiar, gloomy face entered his sight.

He knew this person's identity. He was from the younger generation of the Zhang Family, one of Wancheng's Four Great Families.

The boxing gym and the Four Great Families' open and secret struggle?

The entire Wancheng had only one place with a Secret Blood Warrior slot: Hengshan Boxing Gym.

Thus, the major powers in the city had all sent their outstanding descendants there to cultivate.

Naturally, the lofty Hetu Dao did not count. They disdained Secret Blood Warriors, and the Dao Master could not even be bothered to deal with a group of mundane people fighting for power and profit.

I blocked their path? No, Old Jin pushed me out to block their path!

Over the past three months, He Zhao had not failed to wonder why his Cheap Master had gouged food out of Black King's mouth to support him.

"Li Liang, go collect your things from the steward. This is the last time," Old Jin said, calling He Zhao over and muttering softly.

Ruthless He Zhao nodded to show that he understood.

At the same time, he felt increasingly pessimistic about Wancheng's situation.

Even the second-largest power had been affected. This bandit crisis would likely last longer, and perhaps the Water Bandits would reach the city gates tomorrow.

Carrying one hundred and eighty catties of Aberration flesh wrapped in white cloth over one shoulder, he quickly left the boxing gym.

At the same time, several little tails appeared behind him.

He Zhao did not head to the Inn. Instead, he twisted and turned through streets and alleyways, while those following behind him forced themselves to keep up.

Several hours later, he slipped into a secluded alley.

"Damn it, this guy walks like a dog. He can really keep going."

"Brother Zhang, later I'm breaking his legs. He's worn all of us out."

"Where is he?!"

When they entered the alley, they found no sign of He Zhao.

"Looking for me?"

The group turned around and saw Ruthless He Zhao carrying the meat, amusement written across his face.

"Motherf—"

Before the underling could finish cursing, the Zhang Family man in the lead raised a hand to stop him.

"Li Liang, one thousand taels of silver. Withdraw from the fight for the slot. Don't tell me you do not know what I mean. Given Old Jin's attitude toward you, you know perfectly well what I am talking about!

Don't refuse. The Zhang Family is not made of straw. I have already reached an agreement with the other three families. This slot will be split between the Sun Family and mine. I paid the price, and I will not let that money go to waste.

Besides, the times are tense now. If Commander Wang catches the Water Bandits' inside man, someone may not have an easy time of it. Even Old Jin would not offend the entire city's hundred thousand-plus people for one person."

The threat in his words overflowed without restraint.

He Zhao set down the flesh he had been carrying on his shoulder, while the smile on his face remained unchanged.

"I don't care about the struggle between your Four Great Families and the martial arts hall, but when it comes to any threat, I've always liked to nip it in the bud."

As his words fell, he vanished from before everyone's eyes with a whoosh.

Young Master Zhang and his several lackeys only felt a pain in their foreheads before darkness swallowed them whole.

A moment later, He Zhao emerged from the small alley once more.

"Idiots!"

Sun had kept silent, yet you had been jumping up and down.

Within the dim alley lay faceless corpses strewn every which way. A bloody hole in each of their foreheads stood out with startling clarity.

Before absolute speed, any resistance seemed laughable and powerless.

As He Zhao walked along the road to the Inn, Young Master Zhang's arrogant words filled his mind.

If the son was this overbearing, the father was definitely no saint.

What if those people followed the vine to the melon and dragged him out?

"No!"

Cut the grass, pull out the roots.

A fierce glint immediately flashed in He Zhao's eyes.

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