Blood Person

Memories stung him incessantly at this moment, the past unfolding clearly before his eyes.

Chen Zhuo was not an orphan; he was the third-born in his family.

The Chen family had once been considered a middle-class household in Baiyun County, possessing modest assets and living a fairly comfortable life.

However, following the accidental deaths of his parents and the passing of his eldest brother due to illness, the Chen family suffered a devastating blow.

Chen the Second revealed his true nature as a degenerate gambler, losing almost all of the family's remaining assets.

Even the house left to Chen Zhuo by their father was forcibly seized by him and subsequently gambled away as well.

It was common knowledge that degenerate gamblers never met a good end.

Fortunately, Chen Zhuo had the foresight to use the last of his money to pull strings, securing a position as a White-Uniform Runner and avoiding being dragged into the abyss by that gambler.

With just one glance, Chen Zhuo recognized the man sprawled on the ground as his own second brother.

A disgust rooted deep in his bones urged him to leave as quickly as possible.

Chen Zhuo took only that one look, turned around, and walked away, treating him like a complete stranger.

Yet, after only a few steps, Chen the Second began to shout and holler immediately:

"Third Brother? What are you running for? You son of a bitch, your wings have grown stiff, haven't they? Just because you're a White-Uniform Runner now, you think you're so high and mighty that you don't even greet your own second brother?"

Chen the Second had evidently recognized Chen Zhuo as well.

However, no matter how he shouted, Chen Zhuo turned a deaf ear, continuing to walk forward.

There was no need to pay any mind to a degenerate gambler who would even sell his own parents' spirit tablets for gambling stakes.

He might as well be dead.

But just as Chen Zhuo hurried forward a few paces, two broad-shouldered men suddenly surrounded him, blocking his path firmly.

Chen Zhuo's eyes turned cold: "I am on official yamen business. Do you dare to obstruct me?"

Clap, clap, clap.

Someone behind him began to clap, followed by a hoarse voice.

"You're certainly imposing, but it's only natural to pay one's debts. You've picked the wrong place to throw your weight around."

Chen Zhuo turned toward the sound. A Fat Old Man was stepping on Chen the Second's head, staring at him with a sneer while tossing a bundle of receipts at his feet.

"See how much is owed; you can count it yourself."

"Pay my debts? That is his business. What does it have to do with me?"

Chen Zhuo took one look and kicked the receipts back.

"You are brothers by blood. It's such a coincidence to run into you today; what he cannot pay, you shall naturally pay for him."

The Fat Old Man waved his hand, and three more burly men emerged from the gambling den, each wielding a steel saber.

"If you don't pay up today, you'll pay with your life."

The sunlight fell upon the hilts of those blades, the reflected glare causing Chen Zhuo to narrow his eyes.

I recall that my so-called home is in the south of the outer city, yet I happen to run into Chen the Second in the north. This is truly... "coincidental".

It was suspiciously coincidental.

Chen Zhuo gradually realized that this setup didn't look like debt collection; it looked like a death warrant.

And it was his life they were after.

With this suspicion in mind, his body reacted accordingly.

His skin, muscles, and bones tightened instinctively, and his right hand quietly rested on his waist.

"Kill this brat!"

Perhaps they had lost patience, or perhaps they feared Chen Zhuo had seen through their intentions and would run away.

At the Fat Old Man's command, the five burly men holding steel sabers rushed forward without the slightest hesitation.

The blades were sharp, intended to hack Chen Zhuo to death in a frenzy.

Clang.

Without a second thought, Chen Zhuo drew his service saber.

Reflected in the sunset, the blade seemed to ignite with a raging fire.

Having lived two lives, this was his first time in a real fight; it would be a lie to say Chen Zhuo wasn't nervous.

But when several steel blades hung before his eyes, seeking his life?

Nervous?

Chen Zhuo swung his saber, his killing intent surging.

The opponents were experienced, their coordination exceptionally tacit; the five steel sabers struck at him almost simultaneously.

Four were feints, while one went for his feet, aiming directly for his vitals.

Chen Zhuo focused his mind and held his breath, his long blade striking out, moving last but arriving first.

The group only saw a ball of blazing sun streak before their eyes, so blinding they couldn't keep them open.

With a sharp shing, a howl suddenly erupted in their ears.

Through the haze, they vaguely saw a hand severed at the root by Chen Zhuo's blade.

At the same time, they all discovered that their own blades felt as if they had struck a piece of tough, hardened cowhide.

They could cut into it, but the wounds were never deep.

A trained fighter?

Terror gripped them, and they immediately pulled back their steel blades, terrified of following in the footsteps of the man who had lost his hand.

Yet, they did not truly retreat; they merely gripped their blades tightly, circling Chen Zhuo constantly.

Every tentative strike was met with a supporting blow from another, leaving themselves plenty of room to fall back.

"He can't keep this up for long."

They had seen many men like this, and it wasn't enough to scare them off with a single move.

Besides, after that one strike, the opponent was already bleeding; as the blood flowed out, his vitality would rapidly decline.

Crippling one man had come at a significant cost.

Several wounds on Chen Zhuo's body were gushing blood, soaking his short shirt through.

Yet, he seemed not to notice, his fighting spirit burning far brighter than before.

Although he repeated only three blade techniques, he managed to weave them into a dazzling display.

The long blade in his hand danced with such density that no matter from where the steel blades struck, he could force them back in perfect order.

[Zhengyang Blade Technique (Incomplete) +1]

[Zhengyang Blade Technique (Incomplete) +1]

[Iron Cloth Shirt +1]

Watching the rows of small text pop up before him, Chen Zhuo's mouth twitched. His vitality surged through his body at high speed, and an unnatural flush appeared on his cheeks.

Fighting someone could actually increase his proficiency?!

And it was faster than practicing martial arts normally?

There was no time to ponder the reason.

A wild idea sprouted in his mind.

In any case, with the support of the Blood Vitality Pill, his stamina wouldn't be depleted too quickly...

Chen Zhuo steeled his heart and instantly changed his stance.

Facing four steel blades, he didn't block; instead, he surged forward, as if intending to take the blades with his own flesh.

In an instant, several more gashes appeared on his body.

Blood immediately drenched him from head to toe.

Even in such a wretched state, Chen Zhuo's eyes held an unconcealable excitement.

Rows of small text refreshed before his eyes at a rapid pace.

Especially the Zhengyang Blade Technique.

What a freak...

Even though these blade-wielders had spent years in the underworld and seen all sorts of people, a freak like Chen Zhuo—who grew more excited the more he was hacked—was truly a rare sight.

Hacking someone was supposed to be a punishment, so why did it feel like a reward?

A sense of weirdness, like a foul breath stuck in their throats, made the chests of the blade-wielders feel stifled to the point of bursting.

This kid had become a blood-soaked mess, so why wouldn't he just die?

"You idiots, he's using you to hone his skills!"

It wasn't until the Fat Old Man's roar suddenly rang out that the blade-wielders finally realized the truth.

They'd been played?

A brief moment of shock was followed by a surge of fury.

However, it was too late.

Before their lives reached their end, the last thing they saw was a flash of fiery red blade-light.

It was as if the setting sun had crashed into the earth, carving out a deep, dark canyon.

A long, gaping wound had been torn across all four of their chests.

In an instant, blood poured out like a waterfall.

"This strike... who said this kid only just started Body Tempering?!"

Seeing this heart-stopping strike, the Fat Old Man's eyelids twitched uncontrollably. Without a second thought, he turned tail and bolted.

"Huang Yuan'er, you've ruined me!"