Unwavering

"Aren't you going to make a choice?"

Kunwu stared at Ming De's sharpest knife—he longed for that blade.

"If you don't choose, I'll choose for you."

Should I continue to endure this chaotic world? Should I remain in this iron pot, disciplining the dogs in the name of Judas?

For Kunwu, this was a form of torture, a pain akin to being skinned, dismembered, cut out flesh, and ripped out his heart.

He doesn't belong to this era; he's not a native of Shambhala.

He viewed the people of Taiye and even the entire Eastern Continent as barbarians, as a resource for survival.

Even if Kunwu had many wives and concubines, being infertile, he naturally would not have any family descendants or any cultural legacy. In Judas's eyes, he was a tool who had worked for him for hundreds or thousands of years without any complaints or threats.

But now, things have taken a turn for the better.

The gunsmith was not dead; he appeared before Wang Damin, lively and energetic.

How could he possibly let this opportunity slip by? If he could bring him under his command, even if he captured him alive, he could use the [Defying Heaven and Changing Fate] ability to control him and slowly torture him. One day, Kunwu could use this knife to slowly return to the civilized world.

He desperately wanted to go back; he was so angry and frantic about it.

It wasn't some inexplicable, childish, or naive homesickness—for this monster, his hometown had long been completely forgotten.

He had many, many, and very practical reasons for wanting to return to the mundane world. This guy could tell at a glance what kind of person the gunsmith was—because they were the same, people who lived a down-to-earth life.

Wang Damin harbored a deep-seated hatred for Shambhala.

He had absolutely no reverence, let alone compassion, for any life that was born on this continent.

"Give myself a chance," Kunwu thought to himself.

I need a large house with hot water available 24 hours a day.

I need a moisture-proof seaside villa, a kitchen stocked with industrial products like chicken bouillon, a refrigerator, and cola.

There is heating in winter and air conditioning in summer.

Connect to Wi-Fi and you can open your phone to see what's happening on the other side of the world.

I want to drive around Australia, from sunrise to sunset, and then from dusk to dawn.

Kunwu

You are no longer afraid of the sun! Because of the special spiritual power of [Defying Heaven and Changing Fate]!

The immense power of this collective karma allows you to face the sunlight!

What more do you need? We're just one step away from these simple, beautiful things!

--Get the gunsmith's knife! Then you can leave this godforsaken place! Leave this stinking, cesspool-like place!

"Gunsmith, if a person cannot make independent decisions, they can only obey others' orders." Kunwu slowly probed the range of Fragrant Dream: "I think you understand this principle better than I do—this is just a transaction, it's just a pity we have no feelings to discuss."

"I can sense a profound loneliness emanating from your powerful fist."

"I happen to share this same loneliness, and I hope to collaborate with you."

"If you remain stubborn and insist on fighting to the death, I'm afraid neither of us will have a good ending."

"Because what you are facing is the family business and family that I have painstakingly built up over the past few centuries and more than twenty generations—a fortress of flesh and blood constructed from countless elements."

"This holy sword of morality is in my hand. If you slaughter the people of this city, you will find it impossible to move an inch in Great Xia, and you will never be able to capture Judas again—you are no match for me."

As Kunwu closed in step by step, Xue Ming was unable to summon her spirit body—she had to start struggling immediately.

He was panting heavily, trying to alleviate his negative emotions and prevent the risk of sudden death from an excessively high heart rate. Engaging in strenuous activity while in a state of Gate of Death was also a kind of suffering, a form of torture—it felt like his fragile body, which had been exhausted for days and nights, was suddenly thrown into the final sprint on a 100-meter track.

The gunsmith remained silent—he had no intention of saying anything more to Kunwu.

This sorcerer is incredibly clever. To think he could use the Hundred Eyes Demon's deceptive tactics to deal with Kunwu? That's wishful thinking!

There's only one way to survive right now: escape!

"Are you really going to run away?" Just then, the old demon Di Jiang spoke from inside Xue Ming's robe, "I can help you, young man. Taowu can't help with this, but I can lend you a hand."

The ferocious beast spoke extremely quickly, providing timely help when Xue Ming was in trouble. Its meaning was clear: Xue Ming would definitely pay the price.

"Give me your body, I'll deal with this evil cultivator. Your mana is almost depleted, but mine is still fully charged. How about it? I'm helping you through your tribulation, you should show your gratitude, right?"

Xue Ming ignored Di Jiang's sweet talk. Like Qiongqi, he was tired of hearing these pyramid scheme tactics and didn't want to waste any more time.

Kunwu suddenly moved, because the gunsmith moved even faster!

The sorcerer was terrified, fearing the gunsmith had fled far away. Only by getting closer could he sense that the warrior's chaotic aura had entered the Gate of Death. But how could someone maintain such terrifying mobility while in the Gate of Death state? What a powerful fighting spirit!

The black-robed monk climbed over the porch railing and scaled the wall to reach the second floor. Kunwu flung out a handful of pebbles, which instantly became sharp, bone-breaking projectiles that struck the gunsmith in the back—but the man was completely unaffected. A few drops of blood splattered from his black robe, and he flew away like a nimble swallow!

Kunwu relentlessly pursued them, weaving through the streets and alleys. He sneered inwardly.

"Run?! Let's see where you can run to. Do you think a mere mortal body can outlast a body that has been given blood?"

They caught up with a knife-forging shop called [Zheng's Golden Knife Shop]. Kunwu followed them into the courtyard and saw a gunsmith running frantically on the roof. He realized that there was no place to stay nearby, and if they ran further south into the city, they would have to get off the house.

But Kunwu's smugness didn't last long. He saw the gunsmith run back the way he came, leaving the way he came.

Kunwu's patience quickly wore thin. He didn't have the agility of someone with wings on their back; he'd be slower to get onto the roof. Should he run after this kid again?

Kunwu had no time to hesitate. He saw the gunsmith climb back up to the second floor of the dumpling shop, hang the clothesline on it, and jump onto the upturned roof of the long alleyway facing the street. He ran as if his feet were flying, and his heels didn't even touch the ground.

Kunwu finally figured it out. He slowly climbed up the corner of the Golden Knife Shop to the roof, intending to intercept the gunsmith on the rooftop. But in the blink of an eye—he was thrown more than eighty meters away.

This distance seems like an insurmountable gap; no matter how hard I try, I can never catch up.

Kunwu was not as agile as the gunsmith. He tried to jump through alleys and climb over walls, running quickly between the rooftops of courtyards that resembled narrow wooden bridges. He was already doing his best to maintain his balance, so he couldn't go very fast at all.

They followed each other for more than half a mile, and before they knew it, they had returned to where they started, back to the restaurant.

"Where is he?!" Kunwu lost track of him, but he didn't give up.

The gunsmith can't escape. The restaurant is surrounded by curious onlookers. If they catch this Black-robed Monk, they won't let him get away. He's still hiding inside the restaurant, but they don't know his exact location.

Kunwu initially had no intention of entering the room to search it, but instead looked around from the second-floor terrace for a while.

But after waiting a minute, he suddenly realized—

--The intelligence provided by Judas also stated that gunsmiths can control their sleep time; they only need fifteen minutes of dreamless sleep to maintain two hours of mental activity.

"This guy is stalling for time! He's betting I won't dare go in?!"

By the time Kunwu figured this out, more than a minute had passed. He immediately rushed into the restaurant, kicking open each door to check the rooms, from the first floor to the third. By the time he arrived at Xiangxiang's room, a full ten minutes had passed.

He was furious, his defenses had crumbled, and he shouted angrily.

"You bastard! Has the gunsmith been here?!"

Xiangxiang was so frightened that her face turned pale, and she couldn't understand Kunwu's words.

She only knew the name Zhang Congfeng; she had no idea what a gunsmith was.

"Master, what are you asking? Who are you asking about?"

"It's that nobleman who stood up for you! That monk!" Kunwu never intended to kill him. He couldn't very well mobilize the Government Soldiers to capture the gunsmith alive—because the prefect was his supervisor, and Dadu learn about Kunwu's thoughts indirectly through the prefect if anything happened.

"I've seen it before!" Xiangxiang replied immediately.

"Where are you?! Enough nonsense! If you can't tell me, I'll kill you!" Kunwu roared.

Xiangxiang pointed to the window. "He ran away! He ran away! Leader, I beg you! Please don't hurt him!"

Kunwu stepped forward and kissed Xiangxiang hard, trying to find some evidence in her pheromones. He stared suspiciously at the weak and powerless Zhao Jianying on the bed. The man seemed to have been awake for a while, tossing and turning in pain, but had already pulled the covers over himself and fallen into a deep sleep, his face hidden from view.

-- He went to the bedside, glanced under the bed, and tasted a hint of fear and a touch of relief in Xiangxiang's mouth.

Kunwu didn't believe the woman, but he couldn't find her under the bed either, so he lifted the covers to take a closer look. He smelled blood, and it was indeed the injury left by the stone thrown as a hidden weapon earlier. The gunsmith really had been here!

Just then, gasps of alarm came from downstairs. Kunwu immediately ran to the window to look and saw the black-robed monk pushing through the crowd and stumbling as he fled.

"Okay! He wasn't sleeping! That's right! That's right!"

How could he possibly have the time to sleep? He wouldn't dare.

Kunwu felt victory was assured and immediately gave chase.

He felt his steps becoming lighter and his mood improving. But when he thought of the grievances he had suffered over the past few centuries, the sorcerer felt inexplicably grief-stricken and even felt like crying.

What kind of human suffering is this?

I was suddenly thrown into this desolate place by the cruel heavens, from a civilized society, a beautiful world full of order. Did the heavens even ask me? Did they consider my feelings?!

I was supposed to be living a comfortable, ordinary life, but suddenly time has been turned back hundreds of years!

For hundreds of years! Even if you were a prince, a prince consort, a general, a prime minister, or a local tyrant here, your quality of life would still be far inferior to that of an ordinary person working a nine-to-five job in modern society!

To put together a meal that suits my taste, I have to travel to two or three towns, and I also have to worry about the epidemic and whether the ingredients are fresh enough!

If you want to wear a nice outfit, you have to order it half a month in advance and wait for the canal tides, depending on the weather.

I wanted to go out for a walk, but oh my god, this muddy road is so bad it stinks. All I see all day is wild trees and grass. I have to go to the roadside to poop.

Building a family and career with this brain, only to end up as a blood donor, is nothing more than suffering and working in a different place.

I want to escape! I want to escape from this cage! I want to go back to the surface!

Kunwu didn't run far; he only had to cross two streets, about 600 meters, to catch the black-robed monk.

"Yes! You have no strength left! You shouldn't have any strength!"

He became increasingly convinced that the gunsmith was powerless to fight back. As long as he got Yaksha Mei to crawl into the guy's stomach, everything would be easy from then on. He would send the gunsmith to the Yin Yang Qiankun Temple and, with time and careful training, tie their fates together. It wouldn't be impossible for them to rebel against Judas and turn the tables!

Back at the entrance of the paint and rice decorating workshop, back to the street in front of Xiangxiang's Shop.

Time passed slowly, but Kunwu was not in a hurry. He knew that the eagle had to endure it—if he didn't, the gunsmith might be caught off guard and have his eyes pecked out.

"Run! Why have you stopped?!" Kunwu shouted, "Turn around! Look at me!"

The black-robed monk did not respond, standing stiffly beside the archway, unable to run any further, his body so weak he was almost collapsing.

"Hahahaha! Brother! What are you all fussing about?" Kunwu said with a chuckle, slowly approaching. "After going through all that trouble, you're still going to end up in my hands, aren't you?"

Once Kunwu was fully prepared, he approached the black-robed monk, cautiously guarding against Hunwei's power.

"You"

His eyes shifted from joy to surprise, then from surprise to anger, and finally he burst into a tirade of curses.

"You damn little bastard! You dare to lie to me?"

Zhao Jianying wore a monk's robe and had his head shaved.

His eyes were almost closed, but he forced himself to look at his "future home," at the newly renovated little house.

It was only about fifty steps, just two alleyways away. He still had the key with him, but it was a pity that Xiangxiang couldn't come back with him.

"Who the hell are you calling a bastard?" Zhao Jianying pulled out a knife from his pocket, putting on a show of ferocity and fighting with the immortal, but he had no substance whatsoever. "You piece of trash, your Grandfather is right here. You can hurt me if you want. You..."

When Zhang Guiren fled back to the restaurant, he collapsed onto the bed. Zhao Jianying immediately woke up, quickly changed into a monk's robe, shaved his head with the fruit knife, and frantically climbed out the window and ran outside.

Last time, a nobleman shaved his face; this time, he himself wants to become a monk.

"Damn, he's got a tough tongue!" Kunwu immediately raised his arm and stood up, summoning Yaksha Mei, intending to use Jianying's fate as a bargaining chip, to continue wielding the moral sword to hold the hostage and threaten the gunsmith, "[Defying Heaven and Changing Fate the Destiny]!"

"Defying Heaven and Changing Fate?! What nonsense are you spouting! Demon! Look carefully!" Zhao Jianying roared, "Why should I change my fate! What right do you have! You bastard!"

He grabbed the knife and stabbed it fiercely into his heart! He no longer wanted to be a burden to Zhang Guiren, because the debt was already too much! He couldn't repay it!

Blood splattered more than two meters high, landing on Kunwu's face and staining it red, making it impossible for him to open his eyes.

His heart was gaping open, just like Jianying's.

--It seems like something is flowing out continuously.

Kunwu, the "madman," was momentarily out of breath. After wiping his face clean, he saw the emaciated man writhing and struggling on the ground, his blood spurting out a blurry outline in the shape of a horse.

"Are you crazy?"

"Why? I didn't mean to kill you."

Kunwu retreated little by little; he was terrified.

"This is incomprehensible! Hey!"

He pulled over some onlookers from the roadside and grabbed one at random.

"Hey! Tell me! I didn't want him to die. How could he suddenly... suddenly commit suicide?"

Before the passerby could answer, Kunwu began talking to himself again, no longer daring to meet Jianying's bloodless and blind eyes.

These were the last few seconds of his life, and he couldn't bear to look.

"It's all his own fault! It's so inexplicable."

"He's stupid. If the world were full of people like him, wouldn't we be wiped out?"

"What did I do wrong? What did I do wrong?!"

"It's all his fault! Why aren't you saying anything? Why? I'm from a reputable sect! I..."

"Every man for himself, or he'll be damned."

Just like the profile portrait that Xue Ming later deduced--

--Wang Damin was a decent human being, even after he had become Blood-giving Monster.

The biggest difference between him and the other members of the alliance was that he was too human. He was fragile like ordinary Homo sapiens and couldn't let go of his emotions.

If this had happened on any other Zero Platform, the leaders of the various Religious order Wings of Light probably wouldn't have even blinked; these monsters' blood would have been cold long ago.

Knowing that Jianying was getting married, the neighbors, under the arrangement of the Yin Yang Qiankun Temple, all looked forward to this marriage. They often visited the newlyweds, chatting about their families. Some of the more ambitious uncles envied Jianying's physique and coveted the Zhao family's good bloodline, wanting to arrange betrothals for their children in advance.

But at this moment, all they saw was a skin and bones Zhao family man committing suicide by stabbing himself in the heart in front of the gate tower, his blood splattering onto the plaque.

No one dared to speak; there was only a deathly silence.

A bell rang in Kunwu's head. His mind went blank, and he only thought about breaking free from the shackles of fate, pursuing freedom for the rest of his life, wanting to be a bird in the sky, a dragon in the clouds.

Jianying cursed him as a bastard to his face, then severed his soul power and shattered his chains with a single strike.

This made him mentally and physically damaged, and even made him look decadent and old--

"--There were so many other paths you chose, why didn't you?! Haven't I treated you well? Haven't I given you face?"

"It's such a simple thing! Please help me! Please give me a hand!"

"It'll benefit everyone! I won't treat you unfairly!"

Kunwu walked up to Zhao Jianying and tried to pull out the elixir from his undergarments—a genuine Universal Elixir.

"How about I save you one more time? I'll save you one more time, I'll give you a chance. You must say thank you! Do you hear me? Say thank you, Brother Kunwu! Say it!"

His mind raced, and his expression turned fierce again.

"You want to die? Did you even ask me? Did you even ask me?!"

Jianying's face was already deathly pale, his eyes were completely black, and his pupils were dilated. He let out a final, desperate roar from his throat.

"Jiang Xueming!!!----"

Before the knife was even pulled out, the ventricular valve ruptured, and blood gushed out with each heartbeat and scream.

"It's all wiped clean!"

"Jiang Xueming!"

Zhao Jianying finally learned Zhang Guiren's real name, but only in the last moments of his life did he hear it—he was always deceived, lured by desires, bewitched by all sorts of demons, and had things important in his life taken away time and again by natural disasters and man-made calamities. Unfortunately, he was not brave, and when he was brave, there was no Taowu to protect him, no fairytale-like blessing.

He couldn't wait for Kunwu to come to his rescue, nor could he wait for the chains of [Change the Defying Heaven and Changing Fate] to be fastened to him again.

Jianying hardened his heart, and following the knight's combat technique of stabbing and cutting, he pulled hard on the handle, slicing horizontally along his ribs. As soon as he pulled out the sword, he saw two Death God — Black and White Impermanence— patting his shoulder, and he immediately left his body.

Then Kunwu frantically helped the corpse up and poured out the elixirs. Zhao Jianying's body remained motionless, and the demonic cultivator was stunned.

"Dead? Dead?"

Kunwu turned Jianying's body over and over. The wound in his heart had healed, and he tried to find other wounds, but the body had no soul, nothing left, and had become an empty shell, constantly leaking excrement and urine.

"Dead? Heh."

Kunwu found it all ridiculous. He started crying again, for no apparent reason.

"Dead? Is death the only option? Haha. Is death the only way out? Hehehe."

That's right--

He's completely dead.