Good News: You Get Paid. Bad News: Your Wages Are Docked for a Hundred Thousand Eras

Chi Kui had the Bronze Armored Cultivator by the throat.

Blood Fiend chains wound through the bone runes.

The two forces tore at each other.

One was a blade the Pasture had raised and honed.

The other was a mouthpiece the Pasture had sent.

In the Trading Hall, everyone stared at the screen.

No one shouted anymore.

No one laughed.

Because this was no longer a private duel between Chi Kui and Yang Yu.

This was an account from the Old Era, opened to its final page before the entire Abyss.

Bone covered half the Bronze Armored Cultivator's face. He forced the words through his teeth.

"Chi Kui, do you really think you have a way out?"

"Your Dharma Aspect number is in the Pasture's ledger."

"The Pasture took samples from every universe you killed."

"When you die, even your corpse goes back into the furnace."

Chi Kui's hand stilled for an instant.

The thousand eyes of his battered Blood Fiend Hundred Tribulation Aspect shuddered at once.

Dense rows of bone numbers surfaced in those eyes.

Not one number.

More than three thousand.

Chi Kui stared at them and gave a low laugh.

As he laughed, he spat a mouthful of Black Blood.

"I fought for countless eras."

"And I never even broke the damn Dog Chain."

The Bronze Armored Cultivator sneered.

"It's too late to realize that now."

"Let me go, and I can still plead with the Pasture on your behalf."

"The Pasture won't want to throw away a blade like you."

Chi Kui raised his head.

The anger had suddenly vanished from his blood-smeared face.

He looked at Yang Yu.

"Abyss Sovereign."

"You said someone used as a weapon by the Old Era could still file a case?"

Yang Yu stood before him, his sword tip lowered.