Slay Zhou

Chen Zhuo glanced toward the doorway, then calmly lifted his robe and wiped the blood from between his fingers.

That dagger strike had left his entire hand soaked in blood.

If that Long River Gang thug hadn't been so revolting, he might have lived a little longer.

The burly Grey-Robed Man

"Who are you?"

Zhou Sheng was wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth as well.

The thug's death hadn't stirred him at all. He hadn't rushed to attack Chen Zhuo, either. He seemed utterly confident.

"I'm your father."

Chen Zhuo couldn't be bothered to waste words. He picked up the thug's saber and drew it with a sharp shing.

He raised the blade, stood, and stepped forward—all in one smooth motion.

The blade cut through the air, and a deep hum rang through the room.

Without any fancy flourishes, he brought the saber straight down, aiming to take Zhou Sheng's life.

After the brief hum, the room rang with the clash of metal.

"Clang!"

Zhou Sheng held his long saber above his head, managing to block Chen Zhuo's powerful strike head-on.

The gale from the clash howled, making the gray robes on both men snap in the wind.

"You're asking for death!"

Fury burned in Zhou Sheng's heart. What kind of person drew his blade the moment they met?

But before he could strike, Chen Zhuo swiftly drew back his saber, then brought it down again with another heavy blow.

Zhou Sheng had meant to change his move, but Chen Zhuo's second strike was so fast and vicious that he had no choice but to block it.

"Clang!"

The clash rang out again, making Zhou Sheng's eardrums tremble.

As soon as he caught his breath, Chen Zhuo's third strike came.

Zhou Sheng had no choice but to meet it head-on.

He managed to block it again, but one foot slid back, and his blood and qi roiled within him.

"How can I not be his match?!"

Chen Zhuo's three strikes completely shattered the confidence Zhou Sheng had only just managed to regain.

Why?

He couldn't understand. He had changed his Demon Blood at great cost, becoming a bloodthirsty monster. Why was he still so helpless against a single blow?

The thought flashed through his mind in an instant.

Zhou Sheng let out a beastlike roar.

His blood and qi surged through his body. At the cost of tearing his skin, sinews, and bones, he sent a vicious slash forward.

This was the saber technique he had worked so hard to obtain—subtle and peerless, overcoming the solid with the illusory.

At last, he had seized the initiative.

But Chen Zhuo answered with a merciless strike.

A simple, steady vertical slash from above. No fancy flourishes at all.

Pain shot through Zhou Sheng's wrist. The immense force made him lose his grip, and his saber flew away.

It hit the ground with a clatter.

"So changing your Demon Blood only gives you abundant blood and qi. Your skin, sinews, and bones still need to be tempered. And here I thought you could ascend to the heavens in a single step."

Chen Zhuo held his saber angled at his side. Without the slightest hesitation, he brought it down again.

"Wait, don't you want to—"

The moment Chen Zhuo raised his saber, Zhou Sheng sensed disaster. He had wanted to stall him with words, buying himself a sliver of hope.

But once again, he learned just how little Chen Zhuo cared about honor.

The saber fell, and even the air seemed to let out a mournful wail.

The fear, humiliation, and unwillingness in Zhou Sheng's eyes froze in that instant.

His head split in two like a cracked watermelon, splattering red and white across the ground.

Three strikes shattered his heart; the fourth took his soul.

It took just four strikes for Zhou Sheng to die beneath Chen Zhuo's blade.

As Zhou Sheng's body slowly fell, the wall around Chen Zhuo's heart finally began to crumble.

"Ah, that feels good..."

Chen Zhuo smiled, then quickly returned to his usual expression.

He turned toward the doorway and saw that the burly Grey-Robed Man had retreated outside. At least several dozen people stood behind him, all staring at Chen Zhuo.

Every gaze brimmed with murderous intent, yet fear lurked beneath it.

After all, watching someone's head explode from a single slash was a tremendous shock.

Everyone wondered,

"How heavy was that strike?"

They didn't know.

But they knew that if they couldn't take down this uninvited guest, they would all die.

"Kill him!"

"Revenge for Young Master Zhou!"

Dozens of Grey-Robed Men charged toward Chen Zhuo, steeling themselves.

Faced with a surging tide of enemies, Chen Zhuo swung his saber. He didn't retreat—instead, he charged straight into them.

He unleashed all nine forms of the Zhengyang Blade Technique.

[Zhengyang Blade Technique +1]

[Zhengyang Blade Technique +1]

His face expressionless, he coldly cut down one "beast" after another.

After several exchanges, severed limbs and bodies littered the ground.

Amid the chaos, he deliberately kicked in the doors of three nearby rooms.

Hearing the shouts of battle, the women huddled together, cowering in the corners.

Only Chen Zhuo's roar finally jolted them awake.

"If you don't run, you'll only be waiting to die."

With that, Chen Zhuo stopped fighting and paid the others no mind.

Breaking the doors and shouting those words was the most he could do.

The rest was up to fate.

In the lull between clashes, Chen Zhuo returned to Zhou Sheng's corpse and found three porcelain bottles and a stack of banknotes on him. He quickly tucked them into his clothes.

Then he grabbed the bulging bundle from the table and cut a bloody path straight across to the opposite side.

It wasn't that he didn't want to kill them all.

But quite some time had passed. The person behind this mansion must have heard the news by now, and experts were probably already on their way.

Whether it was the Long River Gang or the Liansheng Sect, he couldn't afford to clash with either of them head-on right now.

People would die.

"I need to get out of here, fast."

Fighting as he went, Chen Zhuo made his way to the room where he had first changed clothes. He grabbed his original clothes and saber, then hurried to the stone wall.

He swept his blade across, forcefully cutting down three more men.

While the others hesitated to approach, he suddenly leaped up and vaulted over the stone wall. Following the route he'd taken to get in, he quickly found the entrance.

He lifted the wooden board and crawled back inside.

As soon as he entered, the jade stall owner happened to wake up.

He was still a little dazed, but his eyes were gradually clearing.

Their gazes met. Chen Zhuo admitted that he hadn't hit hard enough the first time, so this time he put more force into it, making sure the stall owner would sleep all day.

With a thump, Chen Zhuo struck him with the edge of his hand, and the bewildered stall owner fell unconscious again.

"Sorry about this."

Chen Zhuo stripped off the stall owner's clothes and changed into them.

After putting the wooden board back in place, he opened the large cabinet beside him where the jade had been stored, emptied it, and tossed the stall owner inside along with his gray robe.

He locked the cabinet, tore off a piece of cloth to cover his face, then pushed open the door and walked to the stall. He plopped down in the seat.

It was now midday, yet the streets were still packed with people.

Chen Zhuo discreetly watched his surroundings and noticed that there were far more Long River Gang members around.

"As expected... The Long River Gang... No, there are Liansheng Sect members here too?!"

Chen Zhuo had sharp eyes. Not only were there more Long River Gang members on the streets, but there were also more Liansheng Sect disciples dressed in black robes.

They were looking around everywhere, clearly searching for him.

"They got here fast."

Chen Zhuo sat quietly at the stall, posing as its temporary owner.