Since Someone Has to Succeed, Why Can't It Be

Since someone had to succeed, why couldn't it be me?

What were other transmigrators like?

They were passionate.

"Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west of the river—never belittle a poor young man."

They were edgy.

The name Xu Que of the Fried Heaven Gang was both cringeworthy and hilarious in its edginess.

They were also the ruthless and decisive Great Love Immortal Venerable.

And Li Changshou, who achieved supremacy through the Hiding Path.

So, what about me?

"Maybe... all I have left is careful preparation, and a little ruthlessness?"

City of Slaughter.

Inside Hell Road.

Golden chains covered every surface, densely winding around everything they could latch onto—stalactites, pavilions, passageways, and even stone walls. They had created countless new paths throughout the already labyrinthine Hell Road. As long as your movement technique was good enough, these sturdy chains could serve as paths to walk on, though that was not why they had appeared here...

At the ends of all the Golden Chains hung a massive humanoid monster, its body pierced by dozens of chains, its bones locked in place, suspended in midair.

The humanoid monster stood over two meters tall.

Two enormous Bat Wings grew from its back.

When spread, they could span more than five meters.

Unfortunately, barring an accident, no one would likely ever see those wings spread again. Like their owner, they had been pierced by dozens of Golden Chains and pinned beneath the stone walls on all sides.

Its crimson light armor was badly damaged.

A huge hole had been torn through where its heart should have been.

The remaining half of its heart beat feebly. It twitched symbolically a few times before being forced to abandon its struggle.

Even so, the humanoid monster was not quite dead.

Every tremor made the chains clang.

With every clang, its body gradually shrank.

Before long, it revealed the appearance of an ordinary human.

Black hair, black eyes, and traces of the domineering arrogance of his youth between his brows. A blood-red Vertical Sword Mark remained in the center of his forehead. He did not look old, but he was likely a middle-aged man who had preserved his appearance.

Opposite him.

At the end of this main path.

Severed limbs lay scattered everywhere. A youth missing his left arm stood beside a Black Tower reduced to only half its original height, all of it standing upon Hell Road.

The Black Tower soared high.

Its surface was covered in fist marks, claw marks, and cracks left by heavy blows.

At its peak, a purple-black crystal sphere one meter in radius was cracked from end to end.

But what had truly destroyed it was the sword scar that had cleaved it in two.

The upper half remained on Hell Road.

The lower half had vanished into the lava.

About one-third of it had disappeared. The half of the Black Tower still visible now amounted to roughly two-thirds of its original height.

Upon close inspection, the sword scar that had split the Black Tower in half was extremely similar to the wound where the youth's arm had been severed. The difference was that scarlet Soul Power clung to the youth's wound. Even though each breath he took caused strands of flesh to visibly regrow from the stump, they could only barely contend with the scarlet Soul Power corroding the wound. None of that was present on the Black Tower.

This was not a regenerative ability humans should possess.

Nor was it a corrosive force humans could endure.

The culprit behind all of this was the humanoid monster suspended by dozens of chains, gradually shrinking back to normal size. The dark-red greatsword in his hand, as wide as a door, was the tool responsible for all this destruction.

"Leave your name behind..." The middle-aged man, having regained consciousness, struggled to raise his head. His astonishing vitality was no weaker than the vigorous life force regenerating flesh at the youth's severed limb. Though his heart was shattered and his life had reached its end, he still had one last breath left to deliver his final words. Yet he used that time to offer praise. "Consider it the victor's mercy toward the defeated. Even with more than twenty promising titled fighters with domains sacrificing themselves to delay me, that strange Black Tower dealing me a fatal blow while I was fighting that beast for control of my body and not at my best, and these chains capable of suppressing my divine power... no matter how many reasons there were, this is still a legendary tale of a Soul Elder crossing five major realms to kill a Titled Douluo. It deserves to be recorded in the history books. So, although I am the loser and know I have no right to ask anything of you, I sincerely hope you will leave your name behind..."

"Ye Qingcang."

"That is my name."

The youth—no, he should be called Ye Qingcang now.

Ye Qingcang pressed a hand against the severed wound being relentlessly corroded by scarlet Soul Power. Invisible ripples spread from his palm, but they only suppressed it; there was no sign of a cure.

His steps were unsteady.

Golden halos emerged behind him one after another.

His gaze swept over the remains of those Artificial Humans.

Finally, it settled on the Slaughter King suspended by the Chains of Heaven. With regret for this senior who carried himself like a true powerhouse, he said, "If not for Destiny, if not because I needed this, we might never have needed to meet blades."

The middle-aged man froze at first.

Then he burst into laughter.

Great torrents of blood sprayed from the hollow in his chest.

Yet he paid it no mind.

He recovered the unmatched dominance of his younger days. After laughing to his fill, he panted lightly. "Ye Qingcang, I will remember your name. But you are still too young. Remember this: a man who travels the world should be open and upright. Defeat is defeat. There is no need for excuses, nor any need for regret. This was a beautiful battle. I am honored to use my life to witness your rise. Take it. If I am not mistaken, you came for the Asura God Sword. Remember, do not be deceived by the Rakshasa divine thought hidden within the Asura God Sword. That was how I was corrupted back then. What a pity... I will never see her again. Perhaps breaking a promise is itself a kind of fulfillment. If she is doing well, then I can rest easy..."

With that, he lowered his head and breathed his last.

Dozens of Chains of Heaven lowered his corpse.

They obediently retracted into the golden halos behind Ye Qingcang.

Ye Qingcang slowly stepped forward.

He pried open the Slaughter King's slack hand.

Picking up the two-meter-long greatsword, roughly the size of a door, he released a pulse of Soul Power. His consciousness was instantly pulled into a mysterious space.

Above a drifting Sea of Blood.

A solitary throne radiated an aura capable of suppressing the entire scene.

A man whose features could not be seen sat upon it.

He was shrouded in blood-red mist.

Something could vaguely be seen, but upon closer inspection, it became impossible to make out.

When the fingers that had been tapping the armrest stopped, Ye Qingcang was already pinned beneath the endless Sea of Blood. He bore the pressure and raised his head to meet the man's gaze. This pleased the man greatly, but his pleasure did not stop his assessment. "You killed a God Trial Taker and still want to obtain this god's inheritance? Among all the humans I have seen, you have the greatest nerve!"

"An inheritance exists to be obtained."

"I am stronger than him. I am more outstanding than him."

"Since someone has to succeed, why can't it be me?"

Ye Qingcang endured pressure exceeding one hundred thousand jin.

Every bone in his body wailed.

Just as he reached his limit, the pressure suddenly vanished.

Then he was kicked out.

The moment he returned to reality, the Asura God Sword shattered inch by inch. Its polluted shell fell away, leaving behind a longsword like Red Jade. It was two meters long and shaped much like a Miaodao. The instant it fell into Ye Qingcang's hand, a feeling of bloodline connection surged through him. A golden-red Vertical Sword Mark suddenly appeared on his forehead, and a purer power poured into his body, intertwining with the thin Soul Power within him to form a mixed Soul Power that was inferior to the best, but superior to the rest.

At the same time.

In the Divine Realm.

Inside the Angel God Temple.

The young man, no longer wrapped in divine power, finally revealed his handsome face. His brows brimmed with sharpness; one look was enough to tell he was a forceful man.

His voice crossed countless miles.

From the Angel God Temple, it descended upon the Rakshasa God Temple.

"I need an explanation!"

The voice slowly echoed through the Rakshasa God Temple.

A seductive noblewoman, as though she embodied every evil in the world and made anyone who saw her want to bully her viciously, reclined upon a bed. She secretly curled her lips and examined the Red Little Bat kneeling at the entrance to the hall. Her faint voice sent chills down the spine. "Now, did you hear that?"

"Master..."

"Yes..."

"This little one heard it..."

The Red Three-headed Little Bat prostrated itself on the ground.

It buried all three heads beneath its wings.

"You don't mind if I make a gift of someone else's property, do you?"

The seductive noblewoman stretched lazily and spoke weakly to the air. After waiting for a long time without receiving an answer, she immediately realized that that philandering bastard had left. Angrily, she covered the deliberately exposed springtime view. Divine might as immense as a collapsing sky instantly flooded into the Red Little Bat, frightening the three-headed Red Little Bat into repeatedly crying, "Master, spare my life!" Yet it could not quell the Deity's fury. The seductive noblewoman grabbed it through the air, rubbed it between her hands, and tossed it out of the Rakshasa God Temple, sending it plummeting toward the lower realm. "Enough. From today onward, I am no longer your master. Your new master is that brat recognized by that bastard. Be a good dog at his side, understand?"

The Divine Realm immediately returned to silence.

Only a certain red ball falling toward the lower realm continued shouting that it understood.