Meaningless

At the same time, it should be said that quite a long time had already passed.

Within the Capital of Slaughter.

Here, time held no meaning whatsoever. After all, the sky here was forever the same color; trying to tell time by looking at it was unrealistic in itself.

So as for how much time had passed—months, or even years—Tang San did not know.

At that moment, Tang San slowly withdrew his Eight Spider Lances.

As the spear tips pulled free from the spine of a corpse, they gave off a faint scraping sound.

After draining its life force and Soul Power, Tang San could not even be bothered to glance at the corpse and simply tossed it aside.

The person on the ground had once been a Soul Saint, a top-tier expert.

In the outside world, a powerhouse like this could run rampant in a mid-sized city, establish a sect, and even make a group of low-level soul masters bow their heads in submission. And yet...

In the Capital of Slaughter, he was nothing more than an insignificant entry on Tang San's devouring list. In underworld slang, he was "fresh goods."

The current Tang San had already transformed into a scavenger.

Of course, not in the complimentary sense, but the cyberpunk kind of scavenger that everyone loathed.

Tang San himself could no longer remember how long he had been here.

The Capital of Slaughter had no alternation of Sun and Moon. Time here was like a luxury good—both meaningless and unnecessary.

He only knew that he kept killing, devouring, recovering, and then continuing to kill.

There were melees in the Hell Slaughter Arena, ambushes in dark alleys, and sometimes someone was stabbed to death simply because they had looked at him one time too many.

After killing them, he