Yang Chen: Where Is the Next Creditor?

Inside the cave dwelling on Kunlun Mountain, it was so quiet you could hear dust settling.

Yang Chen sat cross-legged, his eyes tightly shut.

Yet, within his body, a magnificent spectacle unfolded.

A single drop of blood had transformed into a surging ocean, roaring through every inch of his sinews, bones, flesh, and blood. It was the Ancestral Dragon's power, pure, domineering, filled with a savage force that could tear everything apart. Each heartbeat stirred this ocean, causing his physical body's strength to climb at a terrifying rate.

In the center of his spiritual platform, a seven-colored divine flame floated serenely, burning. The flame was not large, yet it emanated a boundless vitality potent enough to birth a universe. It was the Phoenix Ancestor's Nirvana Fire, his ultimate trump card after Death of Body and Dao, the foundation of his immortality.

And all of this was supported by a force that was heavy, steady, and boundless. It was the Law of Earth from the First Qilin, integrated into his True Spirit, establishing a profound and mysterious connection with the Primordial World beneath his feet.

Attack, defense, life.

The might of the Dragon, the virtue of the Qilin, the immortality of the Phoenix.

The final legacies of the three Primordial Era overlords had formed a near-perfect cycle within him, a debtor who should have been liquidated.

Compared to before resolving the Karma of these three clans, his strength was now worlds apart.

After a long while.

Yang Chen slowly opened his eyes.

Deep within his pupils, a hint of indifferent golden light flashed and vanished. Two bottomless holes were instantly seared into the cave's stone walls.

He raised his hand, lowering his head to examine his palm.

The lines were clear, as if etched with the veins of mountains and the courses of rivers.

An unprecedented power filled his limbs and bones.

Yet, in his heart, there was no trace of elation from his sudden surge in strength.

Instead, there was emptiness.

A vast, unfillable void washed over him like a tide.

This power... was indeed immense. But the feeling of possessing it was far less exquisite than the process of acquiring it. True joy came from watching those three aloof Primordial overlords crumble under my pressure, personally offering up their proud origins in humiliation and despair. That was the true feast.

He had resolved the Karma of the three clans.

No.

Rather, he had squeezed every last drop of value from the three biggest creditors, down to the bone, swallowing it whole and transforming it into the fuel for his own growth.

The thrill of toying with the Primordial overlords, forcing them to surrender their origins, the exhilaration of watching his strength skyrocket like a rocket – these sensations still echoed in the depths of his Divine Soul.

Now, it was all over.

Calm had returned.

The residual souls of the Dragon, Phoenix, and Qilin clans were utterly ruined. They cowered in a corner of the Sea of Karmic Force, reduced to three trembling specks of dust, lacking even the courage to look at him.

Outside the cave dwelling, the Dragon Clan of the Four Seas had retreated, leaving only the eternal silence atop Kunlun Mountain.

This tranquility made him feel a strange sense of irritation.

He tried to calm his mind and absorb the rich innate spiritual energy within the cave dwelling.

However, this spiritual energy, which once benefited him greatly, now felt as bland as plain water when drawn into his body.

Is this what they call cultivation? Meditating for ten thousand years like a stone, just to absorb this pitifully thin energy? How tedious, how boring. Having tasted delicacies snatched directly from the gods' table, how could I possibly go back to gnawing on dirt?

Too slow.

This snail's pace of cultivation was torture compared to the leaps and bounds he experienced by directly devouring origins.

Having grown accustomed to a gluttonous feast, who could still stomach scraps?

Yang Chen stood up from the stone bed.

He paced back and forth in the small cave dwelling, the power within him restless, lacking an outlet.

This peace was simply torment. This tranquility was more like a cage. The power within him roared, craving new nourishment, new prey. My Dao was never about sitting in meditation; it was a path to the heavens paved with the bones of my creditors. To stop is to decay.

Living off his assets was not his style.

He had already tasted the sweetness of that feeling.

The feeling of using his own abilities to make creditors willingly, even tearfully, hand over benefits to him.

He was addicted.

"This won't do if things continue like this."

Yang Chen stopped pacing and muttered to himself.

A flicker of light rekindled in his eyes, the kind a hunter displays when locking onto prey.

"System."

His voice echoed in the empty cave dwelling.

"Scan for me, in my Karma network, are there any other 'fat' threads left?"

He paused, a dangerous curve forming on his lips, and added his request.

Battling wits with the Phoenix Ancestor and the First Qilin, those two old foxes, was interesting, but also taxing. It was time for a change of pace.

"Preferably someone with a fortune, deep reserves, a bad temper, a bit slow on the uptake, and prone to exploding at the slightest provocation. A creditor like that."

He was no longer content to wait passively.

He wanted to take the initiative.

To find the next target with whom he could "negotiate amicably" and "reason with."

The System's mechanical voice sounded in his mind, devoid of any emotion.

[Scanning host's karma network...]

[Scanning...]

[Strong karma entanglement detected with the 'Witch Clan'.]

[The Demon Ancestor Rahula and Pangu's true form fought a great battle in the West back then, forging a deep enmity. This karma is inherited by the host.]

[Additionally, the host possesses Ancestral Dragon Essence Blood, with a powerful physical essence and blood, naturally attracting the Witch Clan's aura, easily drawing their attention and hostility.]

The Witch Clan?

Yang Chen's movements paused for a moment.

His eyes suddenly lit up.

Perfect! It was tailor-made! A bunch of brutes who only respected fists and not the heavens. Dealing with them required no schemes or tricks. Their physical bodies were treasure troves, their essence blood was great medicine. This "debt dispute" would likely be very simple and direct.

They were truly a bunch of brutes!

A group of battle-crazed individuals who only cultivated their bodies, disrespected the heavens and earth, didn't worship Saints, and even dared to challenge the Heavenly Dao!

The former absolute overlords of the Primordial World!

And, most importantly.

They were simple-minded, believing that fists were the only truth.

"Reasoning" with them would be incredibly, incredibly interesting!

Yang Chen straightened his body and patted the non-existent dust from his clothes.

The emptiness and irritation that had been lingering in his heart instantly vanished, replaced by the excitement of embarking on a brand new hunt.

Dealing with cunning old foxes like the Phoenix Ancestor and the First Qilin required careful planning and manipulation.

But the Witch Clan...

Probably wouldn't be that troublesome.

A dazzling, anticipation-filled smile spread across Yang Chen's face.

Ah, this damned, intoxicating sense of anticipation. He wondered what the primordial essence blood of the Twelve Ancestral Witches tasted like.

"Alright, it's them!"

"Next target, the Witch Clan!"

His voice carried an irrepressible hint of excitement.

"I hope you... won't disappoint me!"