Day of Descent

June 28, 1880, Solar Calendar.

[City of Pure White] Vienna.

"Hell." Lude curled his body and scanned his surroundings. "I remember dying, so where the hell did I end up?"

This was a basement of over two hundred square meters, the walls covered in brass pipes and gas lamps casting a brilliant, fiery glow. A dozen pale-faced people in strange attire were celebrating around Lude, completely unaware that he had opened his eyes.

Of course, that might be because they couldn't see Lude's face at all.

Lude was currently inside a deformed, swollen, and massive tumor. Countless blood vessels sprouted from the base of the tumor, merging with the brass pipes to absorb the heat of the steam, making Lude look like a Holy Lord just summoned by a Blade Dragon.

"So, what exactly happened to me?"

The moment Lude tried to recall, a wave of phantom pain surged through his limbs and bones. He felt as if he were back at the scene of the car accident—the agonizing snap of bones, the dull ache of internal organ trauma, and the searing heat of being soaked in gasoline and set ablaze.

A miserable way to die, but Lude didn't regret it; it was simply the ending he deserved.

Reflecting on his past life, where he had fought his way up in a big city, biting and clawing through every obstacle, Lude felt this ending suited him. He was even certain the car accident wasn't an accident; after all, he had used similar tactics on others before.

"I should be dead, but this doesn't look like hell, so I must have transmigrated... Ugh!"

The moment this thought crossed Lude's mind, memories flooded into his brain like a surging tide. In an instant, blood gushed from his nasal cavity, staining the surrounding amniotic fluid, though he no longer had the luxury of worrying about being exposed.

After a long while, Lude finally recovered from the excruciating pain.

This was a world of mystery and the supernatural. The group of freaks before him were alchemists employed by a secret society called the [Black Tide Society], and this body was the final culmination of all their research—a [Soulless Vessel].

In his memories, Lude saw the entire process of how this body was created.

Lude experienced it almost in its entirety: the process of a golden-red skull and a spine of the same color being wrapped in the organs and flesh of a Dragon Beast melted into a torrent of blood, forming a two-meter-wide tumor, and then soaking in amniotic fluid for 280 days to undergo metamorphic development into a human form.

The pain of that flesh being repeatedly torn apart and reconstructed was no less intense than being burned by gasoline.

The good news: this body was brand new, fresh off the assembly line, and of excellent quality in every respect. The bad news: this body was reserved for the leader of the Black Tide Society, and the leader might not be very emotionally stable about Lude squatting in his nest.

In an instant, Lude made up his mind—there were too many people around, so he would play dead first, then find a chance to run once he figured out the situation!

However, just as Lude thought this, an old, hoarse voice suddenly rang out:

"Enough! You can celebrate whenever you want. For now, inject the vessel with a high-potency anesthetic and send it to Miss Siana for inspection. The primary goal is to ensure the vessel is not contaminated by wandering souls from the outside!"

Fine, fine, fine, Lude almost laughed out loud. How rude, you're talking about me right in front of my face!

Watching several alchemists approach with large syringes as thick as an infant's forearm, Lude cursed inwardly. So much for the previous plan; if I play dead here and get drugged, the next time I open my eyes, I'll be crossing the Naihe Bridge!

—Or worse, being cast into a jar, or becoming a brother in some Ten Thousand Soul Banner.

Fortunately, Lude had risen from the bottom, and people like him shared a common trait: an extreme ability to adapt to changing circumstances. In just a few seconds, Lude calculated the feasibility of a violent breakout, performed a risk assessment, and prepared a plan.

First, most of these alchemists carried pistols, which meant they likely lacked offensive means with power exceeding firearms.

Second, Lude remembered that when these alchemists were cutting the Dragon Beast flesh, the foot-operated circular saws had screeched; that hardness was at least comparable to some hardwoods or even metal, and since Lude's muscles were developed from Dragon Beast flesh, taking a few bullets shouldn't be a problem.

In this alchemy workshop, the one Lude was truly wary of was the old man standing by the door giving orders.

That old man was known as [Professor Beshe], one of the heads of this alchemy workshop. He looked to be in his eighties, his dark, sallow skin sagging, the skin on his webbed hand stretchable to his little finger, and his eyes emitting a pale white light.

Professor Beshe was standing exactly on the path Lude would have to take to force a breakout; they were bound to clash.

Watching those alchemists poke the needles into the blood vessels beneath the tumor and begin pushing the high-potency anesthetic, Lude knew he had to take a gamble—a gamble that the old man's supernatural power couldn't overcome his forged Steel Body!

With that thought, Lude made up his mind, thrusting his hands out like dragon claws and tearing through the orange membrane in front of him!

Clear amniotic fluid immediately poured onto the floor engraved with complex runes as Lude slid out through the hole he had torn. Countless blood vessels connected to his back were violently ripped away, the wounds bleeding only a few drops of bright red blood before quickly sealing shut.

For a moment, there was silence in the alchemy workshop, followed by the horrified screams of the crowd—

"The vessel has come to life! Guards! Guards!!!"

Lude flipped up, crouching like a hunting tiger to gather strength, while several alchemists drew their guns.

However, at that moment, a hoarse voice, as if corroded by sulfuric acid, let out a deafening roar: "Stop! Everyone stop! Put your guns down! You idiots, do you want to destroy the vessel?!"

Lude never knew an octogenarian could let out such a loud and resonant roar.

"Put your guns down!" Professor Beshe's cane struck the ground hard, his scolding filled with intense fury. "Until Miss Siana confirms the vessel has not been thoroughly contaminated by an external soul, any lethal means are strictly prohibited!"

And then, Lude miraculously discovered that the gun barrels around him really did lower.

Good grief, Lude chuckled inwardly. High-ranking, arrogant, and a leader who loves to micromanage—this is the type of person I hated most when I was out there, but if such a pig-teammate is on the other side, that's a different story.

Thinking this, Lude suddenly exploded into motion, charging toward Professor Beshe with the unstoppable force of a dump truck.

The moment he moved, Lude realized he had underestimated this body—just by pushing off with his bare feet, he cracked the stone floor. The physical impact alone shattered two alchemists into a spray of gore!

He had miscalculated; this body was far stronger than the Captain America he had estimated—this was a locomotive!

For a split second, Lude's thoughts wandered. If he had this power in his past life, many things that troubled him wouldn't have been issues; whether it was the initial smuggling at the docks, the betrayal by his partners during his startup, or even that final car accident, none of it would have mattered...

...So, come to think of it, how did he manage to recall so many things in a single instant?

Regaining his focus, Lude's gaze met the old man's pale eyes.

"We pray to the Radiant Monarch, the Warden of the Void Lighthouse, the merciless Lord of Radiance, the God of Enlightenment and Reason."

The old man's withered hands had already formed a strange seal, and a pale white light ignited in his decaying eyes. He whispered a strange yet resonant chant, the ancient language staining the air with iridescent colors.

Well, that's to be expected, Lude thought with a touch of helplessness; after all, the old man's anomalies were already written all over his appearance.

However, Lude had long forgotten the meaning of cowardice. Even when faced with such a bizarre situation, he still threw a punch; yet, he quickly realized something was wrong: his soul had completed the motion of throwing the punch, but his physical body had only just begun to raise its arm.

It was a disconnection between soul and body—no, it was simply that his thinking had been accelerated, and his physical body could not keep up with the speed of his thoughts.

Cracks began to appear on the surrounding walls, and what was revealed within the fissures was not pitch-black darkness, but stagnant light. The light leaked through the cracks, dripping onto his hands like blood and dispersing into the air like mist; it pierced through the glass and punctured his skin.

Pale white chains silently spread out from the gaps of light, entangling Lude's torso, neck, and limbs.

These pale white chains had no physical form; they could not even stop Lude's arm from moving further. Yet, they bound Lude's spirit, making him unable to even conceive the thought of moving his limbs, let alone putting up a resistance.

Damn it, Lude cursed inwardly. This was the worst-case scenario—the opponent's strength far exceeded that of this body!

Lude struggled with all his might, his gaze sweeping rapidly around the room, his mind frantically searching for any way to turn the tables. However, just as Lude's gaze swept across Professor Beshe's face, he detected a hint of obscure... greed? in the old man's eyes.

Before Lude could confirm it, white flames quietly ignited on the old man's five fingers, pressing fiercely toward Lude's face.

Yet, just as the old man's five fingers were about to press against Lude's forehead, a petite, exquisite palm suddenly reached out from the side, firmly gripping the old man's withered wrist. Following this, a crisp and melodious girl's voice rang out:

"Professor Beshe, allow me to ask: what exactly are you doing right now?"

In the next instant, a crimson torrent carrying a heavy scent of blood climbed onto Lude's body. Wherever the torrent passed, the chains of light were corroded until they were rusted and mottled, and even the light leaking through the wall cracks was stained with the color of blood.

A petite, delicate, and slender figure had appeared beside the professor at some unknown moment.

The girl's long, knee-length hair was as bright red as blood, her flawless skin as tender and white as jade, and her petite frame was wrapped in a pitch-black coat, with an indescribable charm lingering around her. Her features combined the delicacy of an Easterner with the three-dimensional structure of a Westerner, looking like a work of art crafted by a master. There was a sharp, heroic spirit between her brows and eyes that stunned even Lude for a moment.

But it was only for a moment; a second later, Lude bit his tongue hard to force himself to wake up.

If anything, the girl's overly perfect appearance made Lude even more vigilant—in a world where the bizarre and the extraordinary existed, the implications of a character whose charm attribute was maxed out were self-evident!

It was then that the girl spoke: "Answer my question, Professor Beshe. What were you... preparing to do?"

The old professor narrowed his eyes slightly, seemingly hesitating for a moment, before speaking in a hoarse voice: "Miss Siana, the Vessel encountered spiritual energy pollution from an unknown source. I was just preparing to give it a full-body examination to rule out any interference with the experiment..."

As he spoke, he waved his hand to disperse the light, and the cracks in the wall quietly healed.

"Hmph, you had better be." Siana let out a cold snort, then turned to look at Lude, raising her hand to press it against his chest. Lude instinctively wanted to struggle and resist, but that crimson torrent had already tightly entangled him.

Thus, he could only watch helplessly as the girl's slender, fair palm pressed gently against his chest.

This is the end, Lude thought helplessly.

There was clearly no reason for this Miss Siana, who specialized in souls, to fail to discover Lude's foreign soul.

However, to his surprise, the red-haired girl froze for a split second, then raised her head to look into his eyes with confusion. Only then did Lude notice that the girl's pupils were as crystal-clear and magnificent as pigeon-blood rubies, with blood-colored flames seemingly burning faintly within them.

He didn't know if it was an illusion, but Lude felt that the girl in front of him had quietly smiled.

Before Lude could react, he was pressed down onto the metal dissection table. Siana's exquisite face suddenly leaned in close. Just as Lude intended to use all his strength to resist, the girl's soft whisper suddenly drifted into his ear along with a faint breeze.

"Shh, stranger soul. Don't move, or even I won't be able to save you."

The amount of information in this sentence was simply too great; even as calm as Lude was, he couldn't help but be stunned. However, the red-haired girl did not give Lude a chance to ask questions. She whipped around, her blood-red hair brushing against Lude's face, making his nose itch slightly.

"Professor Beshe," Siana turned to the old man: "Allow me to ask, what is the basis for your judgment that the Vessel has been polluted?"

The old man looked at Lude with confusion: "Because the Vessel acted without authorization, Miss Siana. Is that not enough? The Vessel should be a [soulless empty shell]. Even if it were accidentally activated, it should have remained in a vegetative state."

Siana shook her head: "It seems you have lost the ability to think calmly because you are too agitated."

Under Professor Beshe's puzzled gaze, the girl looked at the heart-pounding Lude: "A vegetative state is caused by brain damage, leading to an inability to control the body. While the Vessel has no soul, its brain is complete; it simply has not undergone any education."

"Beasts often prefer to live alone. I think it was likely just reacting to the stress of having so many people in this room."

As she spoke, Siana patted Lude's sturdy chest, making a thwack-thwack sound: "As for why it attacked you—Professor Beshe, I believe it just wanted to escape, and you and those two in front just happened to be in its way."

Upon hearing this, Professor Beshe couldn't help but look back at the space behind him and nod; he had indeed been standing right at the door.

"That must be it."

With that, Siana looked around the room and raised an eyebrow: "Why are you all still holding your guns? Waiting for an accidental discharge to injure the Vessel?"

Seeing everyone in the room lower their guns in unison, she then spoke: "I have already checked; there are no traces of an intellectual soul polluting the interior of the Vessel. However, you must also be careful not to overstimulate the Vessel to prevent it from having another stress reaction."

After vouching for Lude, the red-haired girl's tone finally softened a little:

"Alright, to avoid the Vessel actually becoming polluted, let's seal it into Vault No. 7 for now. The Chairman has already said that he wants to hold the Reincarnation Ceremony in three months; we must ensure the purity of the Vessel until then."

As she spoke, a crimson current surged, and a sense of warmth flooded into Lude's chest.

Quietly, Lude noticed a slender finger gently tapping his palm three times. Following that, accompanied by a dizzying sensation, red mist gradually shrouded Lude's consciousness, carrying him down into a blood-red dream.

At the final moment before losing consciousness, Lude laughed and cursed in his heart—

Damn it, I've become the Monkey King!