Soul-Stirring Terror and Night Hunting

The next Early Morning, a shrill scream ripped through the silence of the Black Tiger Gang's Outer Court.

"Someone's dead! Steward Wang is dead!"

The voice was like a rooster with its throat clutched, shrill and full of terror.

Very quickly, the entire Outer Court was alarmed. What had been a deathly quiet morning instantly became clamorous as countless disheveled gang members ran out from the communal bunks and firewood sheds, surging toward the source of the scream.

The incident had taken place on a secluded path beside the latrine.

By now, the place was already surrounded by people. Yet everyone deliberately kept a distance of thirty feet, their faces pale as they pointed and whispered, not daring to approach at all.

Yan Kui stood among the crowd, wrapped in that worn thin garment. His face still bore its sickly look, and every so often he covered his mouth to cough twice, seeming as though a gust of wind could knock him over.

Yet deep within his lowered eyes lay the calm of a bottomless pool.

"Move! All of you, move aside! The Enforcement Hall is handling a case!"

A burst of overbearing shouting came from ahead, and the crowd immediately parted like receding tides.

Several burly men in Black Tunics, long sabres hanging at their waists, strode over. At their head was a bald man with a face full of flesh. He was Zhang Biao, the Outer Court Enforcement Hall's deacon, known as "Iron Hand." Rumor had it that his strength had reached the great completion stage of the Body Refinement Realm.

Zhang Biao approached the corpse with a dark expression. After just one glance, his brows knotted into the character Chuan.

It was too gruesome.

Wang Mazi's entire face had collapsed inward, his features blurred into a mass of blood and flesh, as though some enormous blunt weapon had smashed straight into it.

His neck in particular was twisted at a bizarre angle. It had clearly been stomped apart alive by someone—or something.

Most hair-raising of all were the several "wounds" across the corpse's chest and abdomen.

His clothes were shredded, his Skin and Flesh turned outward, the wounds deep enough to expose bone. They were ragged and uneven, unlike cuts from sabres or swords. Instead, they looked more as though some beast's claws had frenziedly torn through him.

"Deacon..." A lackey beside him swallowed, his voice trembling. "This... this doesn't look like a person's work."

Zhang Biao stood and swept his gaze over the gang members, who had fallen silent as cicadas in winter. "Who saw Wang Mazi last night?"

No one dared make a sound.

"Did anyone hear anything last night?"

There was still only dead silence.

Yan Kui had acted swiftly the night before, killing Wang Mazi in one blow. Wang Mazi had not even managed a scream. On top of that, this place was remote, so no one knew anything.

Zhang Biao felt vexed. Black Water City had been unsettled lately. The extermination of the Lin Family had caused an uproar, and the gang leader was carrying out some mysterious ritual that had everyone on edge. Now an Outer Court steward had died so strangely. If he could not uncover the truth and those above held him accountable...

"Hmph!" Zhang Biao snorted coldly. "Judging by those wounds, Unclean Things took his life! The city hasn't been peaceful lately, so all of you had better behave at night and stop wandering around! Otherwise, this will be your fate!"

He directly gave the case its conclusion.

Rather than exhaust himself investigating a possible "murderer," he might as well go with the current and blame it on ghosts. In times like these, a few people dying to ghosts was perfectly normal anyway.

At the words "Unclean Things," the surrounding gang members immediately sucked in cold breaths, their fear deepening.

"I said it! Those wounds looked like they were made by ghost claws!"

"Wang Mazi did every evil deed under the sun. This is retribution!"

"Shh! Keep it down! I heard someone saw a red shadow drifting past last night..."

The crowd began whispering among themselves, panic spreading rapidly.

Yan Kui stood at the rear of the crowd, listening to their discussions. The corner of his mouth curved upward almost imperceptibly.

Good.

This was exactly the effect he wanted.

As long as everyone believed ghosts were at work, no one would suspect him, a sickly wretch "too weak to truss a chicken."

"Disperse! All of you, get back to work!"

Zhang Biao impatiently waved his hand, had Wang Mazi's corpse carried away, and dealt with it carelessly.

The atmosphere in the Outer Court remained oppressive to the extreme for the entire day.

Wang Mazi's death was like a huge boulder weighing on everyone's hearts. The nine unlucky bastards selected alongside Yan Kui to go to the Old Lin Family Manor were especially terrified out of their wits. Some had even begun secretly writing their wills.

Yan Kui, however, acted as if nothing had happened.

As usual, he went to help in the back kitchen, hoping to keep slaughtering chickens to farm Origin Power.

Unfortunately, the fat cook was in a bad mood that day. With a murder having occurred, the back kitchen was under tighter control, and Yan Kui was not allowed inside.

"Scram, scram, scram! No chickens are being slaughtered today. Bad luck!"

Yan Kui was not discouraged after being driven out.

He returned to the firewood shed, sat cross-legged, and looked at the light screen before him.

Origin Power: 0.5

He was still short by a little.

Although the Iron Cloth Shirt was only a fragment, it was still a genuine hard-body Cultivation Technique. Its entry difficulty was higher than that of the Raging Bull Fist.

Going by the system's usual stinginess, entering the technique would require at least 1 point of Origin Power.

He was still short by 0.5.

"There are only two days left before I go to the Old Lin Family Manor. If I don't master the Iron Cloth Shirt, then even with all this Brute Force, facing those invisible ghosts will likely leave me with only a road to death."

Yan Kui knew very well that physical attacks were greatly weakened against ghosts unless one possessed exceedingly vigorous Blood Qi or had mastered martial arts specially meant to suppress evil.

Once the Iron Cloth Shirt was cultivated to a profound level, one's Blood Qi would burn like a furnace—a natural bane to ghosts.

"Tonight, I have to gather enough Origin Power."

Yan Kui glanced at the darkening sky outside the window, a vicious glint flashing through his eyes.

Since he could not kill chickens, then he would kill something else.

Late at night.

Black Water City was not like the sleepless cities of his past life, ablaze with lights. Once night fell, aside from brothels and taverns with backing, most streets were pitch-black.

With a curfew in force, there was not even a ghostly shadow on the streets.

Yan Kui changed into a close-fitting Black Tunic, covered his face with a piece of black cloth, and silently vaulted over the Black Tiger Gang's low courtyard wall.

His target was clear—the Graveyard south of the city.

It was where Black Water City disposed of corpses, and it was also said to have the most Unclean Things.

In the past, even ten times his courage would not have been enough to make him visit such a place. But now, for Origin Power, he had no choice but to take a gamble.

"Fortune and honor are sought amid danger."

Yan Kui tightened his grip on the Sabre in his hand and moved through the dark alleys.

With his 1.2 Agility, he was far more nimble than before, like a black panther hunting beneath the night sky.

Along the way, he did his best to avoid patrolling night watchmen and soldiers.

About half an hour later.

A rotten, foul stench rushed into his nostrils.

Ahead lay a desolate earthen slope. Withered trees twisted like ghost claws, nameless burial mounds lay piled in disarray, and pale bones could occasionally be seen exposed in the open.

He had arrived at the Graveyard.

Yan Kui slowed his steps, held his breath, and entered hunting mode.

"Wooo..."

A gust of Yin wind swept past, sending several yellowed sheets of spirit money fluttering.

The temperature around him seemed to drop several degrees in an instant.

Goosebumps rose across Yan Kui's skin. His body was warning him that some kind of threat truly existed here.

His gaze was sharp as lightning as he scanned the darkness around him.

Suddenly.

Beneath a withered tree to his left, a ball of pale Green Flame appeared out of thin air.

The ghost fire was only the size of a fist, drifting uncertainly through the air. Within its glow, he could vaguely make out a twisted human face silently wailing.

[Low-level Wandering Soul discovered]

The system's prompt sounded at just the right moment.

"There really is one!"

Rather than being alarmed, Yan Kui was delighted.

This was the prey he had been looking for!

The Wandering Soul seemed to sense the aura of a living person as well. Yan Kui's vigorous Blood Qi, strengthened through cultivating the Raging Bull Fist, was like a bright lamp in the darkness to it, full of temptation.

"Shhhriek—"

The Wandering Soul let out a shriek that made his teeth ache and pounced fiercely at Yan Kui.

It was extremely fast!

Like a gust of green cold wind, it closed in instantly.

Yan Kui felt a chill shoot straight into his skull, his hands and feet growing somewhat stiff. This was Yin Energy invading his body!

"Get lost!"

He shouted like spring thunder bursting from his tongue.

The Blood Qi within him instantly boiled, his heart pounding violently as he forcibly scattered the chill.

At the same time, the Sabre in his hand whistled through the air and hacked viciously at the Green Flame.

The blade passed through the Green Flame as though cutting empty air, without the slightest feeling of resistance.

Physical immunity?

No, not complete immunity!

Yan Kui sharply noticed that the moment the blade came into contact with the Green Flame, it clearly dimmed a little and let out a pained shriek.

"It's because of my Blood Qi!"

Yan Kui understood in an instant.

Ordinary weapons could not hurt ghosts, but attacks infused with a martial artist's powerful Blood Qi could cause them harm!

"Since the Sabre won't work, I'll use my fists!"

Yan Kui decisively threw aside the Sabre, clenched both hands into fists, and assumed the stance of the Raging Bull Fist.

The heat within his body surged madly into his fists, and a faint red glow appeared over them.

That was the sign of Blood Qi circulating to its utmost limit!

"Die!"

Facing the Wandering Soul as it pounced again, Yan Kui advanced rather than retreated. He took one step forward, leaving a shallow pit in the ground beneath his foot.

His right fist shot out like a cannonball!

That punch gathered all of his 1.8 Strength, along with a killing intent that pressed forward without regard for anything else.

A dull thud rang out.

His fist slammed viciously into the Wandering Soul's core.

This time, it no longer felt like striking air. It was like punching into a mass of icy sludge.

Then came a sizzling sound like red-hot iron plunged into cold water.

"Ahhh—!"

The Wandering Soul let out a shrill scream. Its originally solid Green Flame instantly burst apart, turning into countless motes of light that dissipated into the air.

[Low-level Wandering Soul killed. Soul Essence plundered.]

[Origin Power: +0.5]

"Phew... phew..."

Yan Kui maintained his punching stance, gasping heavily.

His right fist had darkened somewhat. That was the mark of Yin Energy's corrosion, and bone-piercing cold crept up his arm.

Yet he did not care in the slightest. Instead, he grinned.

"0.5! One Wandering Soul is worth a Wang Mazi at the Body Refinement Realm!"

Still, this Wandering Soul had been harder to kill than Wang Mazi's flesh-and-blood body!

Though his arm was injured, as long as he had Origin Power, it was nothing.

Yan Kui did not leave immediately. Instead, he greedily swept his gaze over the surroundings.

The disturbance just now seemed to have alerted the Graveyard's other inhabitants. Several more clusters of Green Flame lit up in the distant darkness.

If he had been an Ordinary Person, he would have been scared pissless by now.

But in Yan Kui's eyes, those were walking experience packs.

"Come on, all of you, come!"

The Graveyard was far from peaceful that night.

Only when the eastern sky turned the pale white of a fish's belly did Yan Kui drag his exhausted body back over the Black Tiger Gang's wall.

His whole body was icy cold, his clothes soaked through with cold sweat, and his face was so pale it was frightening.

That night, he had hunted three Wandering Souls in total.

Though the process had been perilous—and the last Wandering Soul had nearly burrowed into the crown of his head—the gains were enormous.

At that moment, his System Panel showed:

Origin Power: 2.0 (0.5 + 0.5 * 3)

Not only had he gathered enough Origin Power to enter the technique, he even had some left over!

After returning to the firewood shed, Yan Kui immediately locked the door. Before he even had time to change out of his soaked clothes, he impatiently sat down cross-legged.

The feeling of Yin Energy invading his body was unbearable. He felt as though he were trapped inside an ice cellar, cold seeping from the very gaps between his bones.

He had to add points immediately and use the energy released by the system's improvement to drive out the Yin Energy!

"System, upgrade the Iron Cloth Shirt!"

[Iron Cloth Shirt (Fragment): Not Initiated +]

With his intent confirmed.

[The Iron Cloth Shirt is a fragmentary Cultivation Technique. Invest Origin Power to accelerate comprehension?]

"Confirm!"

[2.0 Origin Power consumed. Iron Cloth Shirt initiated.]

This time, it was no longer merely a stream of heat.

It was a heavy energy with a metallic texture, sweeping through his entire body in an instant.

Yan Kui felt his skin begin to itch and tighten, as if countless ants were gnawing at it, as if it were being frantically sanded with sandpaper.

Iron Cloth Shirt First Layer, Copper Skin.

During this process, the Yin Energy that had originally invaded his body was like snow meeting the blazing sun, melting away completely in an instant.

In its place came a scorching heat.

As the last trace of Origin Power was exhausted, the transformation of his body was finally complete.

Yan Kui let out a long breath of hot air and rose to his feet.

At this moment, he seemed to have grown an inch taller. His formerly frail frame had broadened somewhat, and his entire body radiated a fierce, valiant aura.

Without looking at his face, no one would have connected him to that sickly invalid from before.

Yan Kui pulled open his clothes and lowered his head to inspect his body.

His once pale, loose skin now gleamed with a faint bluish-black sheen. It felt incomparably tough to the touch, as though covered by a layer of old cowhide.

He picked up the sabre from the ground and lightly drew it across his arm.

Szzzt—

There was no blood, only a white mark.

"So hard!"

A sharp light burst from Yan Kui's eyes.

And this was only the beginning!

───────────

[Crimson Modifier]

Host: Yan Kui

Status: Healthy (Blood Qi like a tiger, all ailments eradicated)

Physical Attributes:

Strength: 2.2 (the limit of an ordinary person)

Agility: 1.2

Constitution: 2.0 (rudimentary Copper Skin and Iron Bones)

Martial Arts:

Raging Bull Fist: Mastery

Iron Cloth Shirt (Incomplete): Beginner (0/100)

Origin Power: 0

───────────

"Finally, I have the strength to protect myself."

Yan Kui clenched his fists, feeling the surging power within him as he looked toward the rising sun outside the window.

Tomorrow was the day he would head to the Old Lin Family Manor.

"Old Lin Family Manor... Heh, I wonder whether the ghosts there will be enough for me to kill."