The First Drop of Blood in the Alley!

The blade sank half an inch into flesh. There was no dull resistance of cutting, only an almost smooth sensation of penetration.

The short, stocky man's eyes flew wide open. A gurgling, leaking sound came from his throat as he desperately clutched at his neck with both hands, but warm blood still sprayed through his fingers, quickly dyeing the front of his clothes red.

He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but not a single word came out. His body swayed, then crashed to the ground.

The whole process took less than two breaths.

The tall, skinny man behind him was completely stunned.

He watched his companion fall with his own eyes, the short knife in his hand trembling so badly he could barely hold it. His mouth opened and closed, as if he was trying to decide whether the scene before him was real or not.

"You... you..."

He turned to run, but his legs had already gone weak. He had only taken one step before he staggered and fell to the ground.

Lan Tian walked over and looked down at him from above.

The blood on the scalpel looked a dark, sunken red in the dim light. There was still juice from the numbing medicinal herb left on the blade. He had applied it to help suppress pain during surgery, never expecting it to be used for killing today.

"Who sent you?" he asked.

The tall, skinny man trembled so hard he could not form a complete sentence. He only kept shaking his head. "No... no one. We just... we just saw you coming out from the direction of the forest and thought... thought you must have money on you..."

Lan Tian stared into his eyes for two breaths.

The man's gaze was unfocused. He did not look like he was lying.

Lan Tian withdrew the knife, turned, and walked to the short, stocky man's corpse before crouching down and reaching out to pull the black cloth from his face.

It was an ordinary face belonging to a man in his thirties, with protruding cheekbones and a scar on his chin. He did not look like some well-known villain from the city.

Lan Tian checked the lingering traces of the man's soul power as well, confirming his own judgment.

A one-ring soul master. His strength was not particularly high. He had probably only broken through not long ago, and his soul-power foundation was very shallow.

"How long have you been doing this?" he asked without turning back.

"N-not... not long..." the tall, skinny man said in a trembling voice. "Only started this month... We robbed a few travelers before, and none of them fought back..."

Lan Tian nodded, stood up, wiped the scalpel clean on the short, stocky man's clothes, and returned it to its sheath.

The dusk was growing darker and darker. There was no one to be seen on either end of this road. It was a convenient place, all things considered.

He thought for a moment, then said to the tall, skinny man, "Come here."

The tall, skinny man hesitated, but when he saw the knife in Lan Tian's hand, he still climbed shakily to his feet and walked over.

"Carry him into the woods by the road. Find a hidden spot and bury him." Lan Tian pointed at the corpse on the ground. "Once you're done, you can leave."

The tall, skinny man froze for a moment, probably not expecting to be let off so easily. He quickly nodded, bent down, and laboriously dragged his companion's corpse toward the depths of the low woods.

Lan Tian followed behind him and confirmed that the spot he chose was hidden enough. The man dug very quickly, and soon a large hole appeared, big enough to fit two people. He threw the corpse down into it.

Pfft!

And at that moment, a knife slashed through the tall, skinny man's neck. Blood sprayed out, and he immediately fell into the pit.

The one who had struck was naturally Lan Tian.

When he had said he would let the man go, he had naturally been lying.

He had just made him dig the hole for him.

After that, Lan Tian covered it with soil.

He panted heavily. This was truly exhausting work.

Endless Life activated, and that sense of fatigue soon faded.

Lan Tian stood where he was and lowered his head to look at his right hand.

His palm was steady. His knuckles were not trembling, his palm was not sweating, and his heart rate had already returned to normal within a few breaths after the battle ended.

He was far calmer than he had imagined.

In his previous life, he had not been a violent person. Before transmigrating, he had barely even killed a few chickens.

But these nineteen years of cultivation, along with the recent practical combat training, had made his acceptance of this sort of thing much higher than expected.

Moreover, the other party had been desperate roadblock robbers. It was not as if he had given them no way to live. He had said he could give them money, but they insisted on attacking. In that case, it only came down to who was faster.

He turned and left.

By the time he returned to the medical clinic, it was completely dark.

He locked the door, lit the lamp, and took out the Numb-Bone Vine he had gathered today, spreading it across the chopping board to process it. His technique was the same as usual, without the slightest sign of anything amiss.

Only after he finished processing the medicinal herbs did he sit at the table and drink another half cup of tea, staring absentmindedly at the deep night outside the window for a while.

This was the first time he had killed someone since transmigrating.

It felt very strange. There was none of the nausea or discomfort he had imagined, nor was there any sense of guilt. It was as if he had simply done something that ought to be done.

But it would also be false to say he was completely unmoved.

He lowered his head and looked at his hand.

That hand had just slit open two people's throats, and warm blood had sprayed between his fingers.

Now that he had washed himself clean, his skin was smooth and unblemished again, without a trace left behind.

"I might not run into more of this sort of thing in the future."

He muttered to himself, then got up and went to the back courtyard.

The medicinal broth had already been brewed in advance. After pouring it into the wooden tub and adjusting the temperature, he took off his clothes and sat inside, letting the warm water envelop his whole body.

The medicinal power seeped into his skin, and the fatigue and tension accumulated over the day slowly faded away.

He closed his eyes in the wooden tub and began tonight's meditation.

His soul power flowed slowly, circulating through his meridians round after round, a little more condensed than it had been a few days ago.

He kept the goal for those two months firmly in mind.

Rank fourteen was right ahead. There was no rush. He just had to move toward it steadily, one step at a time.

Half a month later.

An autumn rain fell, washing the streets of Nuoding City clean, and the air carried the damp scent of earth.

Lan Tian sat at the entrance of the clinic, watching the curtain of rain hang down from the eaves. A cup of hot tea sat by his hand, and for once, he had some leisure.

There were fewer patients on rainy days, so he went over everything he had experienced during this period in his mind.

Ever since what had happened in that dark alley, his mindset had changed faintly.

He could not say exactly what had changed, but when he threw a punch, he was more decisive, and that barely perceptible hesitation when he struck had vanished completely.

That feeling showed itself especially clearly in actual combat in the Soul Hunting Forest.

A few days ago, he had encountered an Iron-Back Wild Boar that was nearly a hundred years old. Its body was more than twice as large as the Wind Wolves he had met before, and its tusks jutted outward like daggers.

In the past, he would have chosen to circle and test it, but that time, he closed in directly and smashed a fist into the Iron-Back Wild Boar's eye socket. The instant it lowered its head in pain, his scalpel precisely cut open the flesh on the side of its neck, making it understand the danger before he retreated.

An Iron-Back Wild Boar of nearly a hundred years was indeed much tougher than a ten-year soul beast. When his fist landed, the shock left his wrist aching.

After that fight ended, he clenched his fist, and instead, a faint eagerness to try rose in his heart.

Once he broke through to rank fourteen, perhaps he really could venture a little deeper into the Soul Hunting Forest. The hundred-year soul beasts there were the opponents truly worth fighting.

He finished the last sip of tea, got up, and went to the back courtyard to prepare today's medicinal bath.

Steam rose from the wooden tub, and the bitter fragrance of medicinal herbs spread through the air. He stripped off his clothes and sat in the water, closing his eyes as he felt the medicinal power slowly seep deep into his meridians.

His soul power circulated through his body as usual, a little heavier and denser than before. It felt as if he had taken another small step closer to the threshold of rank fourteen.