Gushing Out

(WARNING: This chapter contains content that may be viewed during a meal!!!)

Shao Erdan. Shao Yimao.

These two had never committed any major heinous crimes, but one annoying, loathsome deed after another—there wasn't a single person in all of Qing He Village who liked either of them.

Except for themselves.

Yun Shou usually avoided contact with these two, basically giving them a wide berth. Back when he was still a weak, ordinary youth, running into either Shao meant getting pinned down and beaten.

And he hadn't crossed paths with them in the past few days. In truth, aside from that one time in the simulation, though he found the two Shaos irritating in real life, there had never been any conflict.

But today, they'd stolen from someone he knew—no, from his benefactor's home.

Yun Shou's hands itched.

Shao Erdan, however, had no discernment. He couldn't recognize the Essence, Qi, and Spirit state that set a martial artist apart from ordinary people, and still took Yun Shou for that scrawny kid. He was the first to spit: "What the fuck are you looking at, you little bastard? Piss off!"

Yun Shou sidestepped, dodging the spittle.

Shao Erdan paused—not because Yun Shou had dodged the spit. He walked to the window, his face twisted with menace: "We turned this shithole over, so what? If you dare say a word to this fisherman's family..."

He suddenly swung his fist: "I'll beat the shit out of you!"

"Got it." Yun Shou nodded.

Shao Erdan turned back, satisfied, and was about to keep searching with his older brother for the jingling coins he'd heard yesterday when he felt his neck tighten, his body lighten, and the scenery tilt sideways...

Yun Shou had grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and hauled him out of the window.

With a bang, he was flung to the ground beside Yun Shou.

Shao Erdan's mind went blank. Before he could figure out what had happened, a foot stomped onto his stomach. He looked up to see that scrawny—well, not as scrawny as before—kid looming over him, stepping on him, and asking a single question:

"Beat the shit out of me, huh?"

Fear had just flickered into Shao Erdan's eyes when, the next moment, a searing pain exploded in his lower abdomen. His eyes rolled back, and he screamed without pause.

"Mercy, grandpa! Aaah, grandpa, stop stepping!"

His cries were practiced and polished, clearly showing he'd had some training somewhere before.

Yun Shou said nothing. He just kept stomping.

A pale blue Force Qi had already seeped deep into Shao Erdan's body. An ordinary person's body was completely defenseless against a martial artist.

With Yun Shou's kind assistance, Shao Erdan, before he could suffer even greater stomping agony, sprayed his pants.

The light faded from his eyes. He lay on the ground like a corpse, a large bulge swelling in his trousers.

Still, the human body was an exquisitely precise structure. Though Yun Shou had forcibly induced this expulsion, he couldn't guarantee there wouldn't be lasting side effects—like Shao Erdan losing control of his rear end for the rest of his life, switching from voluntary to involuntary...

Inside the house, Shao Yimao, who had watched the entire scene from the window: "..."

He shrieked and bolted deeper into the house, but in less than two seconds, Yun Shou had grabbed him and tossed him outside.

Shao Yimao, ignoring the pain from his fall, scrambled on all fours to crawl away.

He didn't want to end up like his little brother—getting stomped until he shit himself was way too terrifying. That kind of suffering was enough for one person to bear; he'd rather be beaten half to death!

Feeling a foot press down on his back, Shao Yimao wailed even louder: "Sir! Grandpa! Don't step—ow!"

Yun Shou still said nothing. He just kept stomping.

"I really don't have any, grandpa! Ow! Grandpa, I just—ow! I just took a dump! Ah, ow!" He screamed and begged between each cry.

Yun Shou finally spoke, but the five words he uttered drove Shao Yimao to despair.

"Oh, yeah? I don't believe you."

Three minutes later.

"Alright, you really don't have any. I believe you." Yun Shou said to Shao Yimao, who was half-dead with a soaked pair of pants, then swaggered off.

After a moment's thought, he felt it wouldn't be right to leave the two stinking wretches by Uncle Ji's window, so he grabbed them by their shirts and dragged them to the outhouse, tossing them inside.

"I'm so kind," Yun Shou praised himself on the way back. "If it were any other ruthless protagonist, those two Shaos would be dead by now. I just stepped on them a few times, gave them a little punishment."

"Am I being a bit of a softie?"

In the evening, after Uncle Ji and the others returned, Yun Shou delivered the last portion of fish meat and bones.

When night came, he fell asleep quickly, sleeping soundly.

"Today, I went through two battles in a single day, fully showcasing my strength!"

Before sleeping, Yun Shou felt a strong sense of accomplishment. In the simulation, no matter how powerful he was, it was all illusory. But displaying it in reality brought a completely different kind of satisfaction.

One battle: defeating hundreds of Spiny Fin Fish, shattering the spectacle of a "Fish Dragon Dance."

Another battle: beating the two village bullies until they couldn't hold their shit in.

When playing games, too low a difficulty drastically shortens the game's lifespan, making it feel boring and killing the fun. But in real life, being an invincible cheater is pure bliss!

Meanwhile, a few hours earlier.

Two soaking-wet figures crawled out of the outhouse.

The pit wasn't deep enough, or else the two of them really would have drowned.

"Bro, we got beaten so badly." Shao Erdan was utterly aggrieved.

He was usually as arrogant as could be, but that was just a shell of bullying and tyranny. After getting beaten up, that shell naturally fell off.

"..." Shao Yimao didn't want to talk.

His younger brother Erdan had only been stomped on twenty-odd times, but he himself had been stomped for a full three minutes (which felt like three days and nights of torment)—forty or fifty times!

And throughout the whole process, it felt like an invisible giant hand was trying to squeeze the crap right out of him!

After a long while, Shao Yimao stood up: "Let's go wash up first. No, don't wash—keep it like this. We're going to the gang to find Uncle and get him to act!"

"Find Uncle?" Shao Erdan shrank his head, a bit afraid of that "Uncle": "Uncle told us not to go causing trouble anymore. What if he scolds us both again?"

"Damn it all, he's our own uncle!" Shao Yimao gritted his teeth: "Usually he can scold us however he wants, but how can this time be compared to before? We were almost beaten to death by that little brat!"

"What uncle doesn't help his own nephews? Who sides with reason over family!?"

Shao Erdan nodded repeatedly after hearing this: "And this time we're in the right. We didn't find anything, and we got the crap beaten out of us. That kid is dead meat. Next, it's really our turn to beat the crap out of him!"

"Don't say the word 'crap' in front of me!" Shao Yimao's anger flared at the thought that he'd taken a dump before going to Ji Kangnian's house to look for money, which meant he'd been stomped dozens of times without any crap coming out—suffering twice as much as that brat Erdan!

Shao Erdan rarely saw his big brother lose his temper at him, so he nodded timidly.

Shao Yimao let out a cold snort: "That kid, I'm not just going to beat the crap out of him! I'm going to shove a big wooden stick up his ass, so he can't hold his crap in for the rest of his life!"

Shao Erdan: "..."

Come on, big bro.

Aren't you the one who keeps saying "crap" too? Why can't I say it?