Brazen Human Traffickers

After leaving Martial Soul Hall, he walked down the long streets.

The brick-paved ground beneath Qian Mo's feet gradually became muddy, and this was precisely his destination.

The commoners' district.

Though Douluo Continent as a whole leaned toward a Western style, it was ultimately still a world created by San Shao.

So even the commoners' district did not have a filthy environment covered in excrement and reeking to the heavens. At most, there was a faint musty smell caused by poor ventilation and lighting.

During this time, Qian Mo's thoughts began to wander.

As the saying went, the more famous someone was, the more controversies they attracted. As one of the most popular works in the webnovel world, Douluo Continent was naturally no exception. Ever since Tang San became famous, he had been criticized from head to toe.

Among the most famous arguments was that Tang San had turned Douluo Continent into his own Tang Family Continent.

And that Tang San was the otherworldly demon who had brought ruin upon Douluo Continent.

Qian Mo agreed with both of those views.

But he did not think Tang San had done anything wrong.

First of all, anyone who knew about the faith-based path to godhood should understand this.

Only suffering was fertile ground for faith.

As for Tang San turning it into Tang Family Continent, Qian Mo likewise saw nothing wrong with that.

Because the strong devouring the weak was simply the law of heaven.

Tang San stood at the pinnacle of the world. Was it not perfectly normal for him to turn it into his own private garden?

In Qian Mo's view, Tang San truly deserved criticism in only two respects. One was that he loved building up his own image too much, which made him seem excessively hypocritical.

The other was that his methods were too crude.

That could be seen in both Tang Wutong's soul and the matter of the Abyss Plane.

If Tang San had not been strong enough and the protagonist under San Shao's pen, he would have crashed and burned long ago~

While Qian Mo was lost in these random thoughts, he had already ventured deep into the commoners' district.

Although Qian Mo had deliberately put on a cloak that concealed half his body to avoid standing out too much, his distinctive aura was simply too out of place in this area.

It was like a firefly in the darkness. Though everything around it was pitch-black, it still drew the eye.

And then there would always be someone with itchy hands who wanted to catch that firefly.

Qian Mo stopped walking and pretended to search for something.

By then, Qian Mo had reached an empty alley, and he had come there deliberately.

Because among the many gazes fixed upon him earlier, Qian Mo had sensed several spiritual fluctuations brimming with intense malice.

So he wanted to see what they were planning.

As for the possibility of things going wrong, Qian Mo was not worried at all.

After all, the strongest combatant in this city was, at most, a Soul Saint.

Secretly, Qian Mo had already placed a hand on his sword hilt, while his mind remained ready to connect with a shotgun in his storage bracelet.

The moment he sensed anything amiss, Qian Mo would strike without hesitation.

It was then that Qian Mo's sharp hearing finally caught the conversation of those filthy people in the distance.

"Boss, make up your mind already!

Even with all that covering, you can tell this one is top-quality. If we miss this chance, who knows when we'll run into another one!

Once we pull off this job, we'll never have to worry about food or drink again. What the hell are you hesitating for?"

The man called Boss grew irritated by the urging and immediately snapped back.

"Shut up, idiot!

Of course I have my reasons for not making a move.

That person is obviously no ordinary person. If something really goes wrong, do you think our little group can handle it?"

"What's this, Boss? You've hesitated this long over something so minor.

It's not like we've never sold nobles or Soul Masters before. Doesn't that dogshit black market only care about the goods, not the people?

We'll cover our faces and sell him there. Who'll know it was us?

And Boss, this merchandise is clearly far better than the usual stock. It might fetch over a hundred thousand Gold Soul Coins!

Once we get that money, we'll never have to worry about food or drink again. Isn't that worth taking a chance for?"

"Ah, this..."

The Boss's voice began to waver. Clearly, even he struggled to keep himself in check before such enormous profit.

A rustling sound came from the distance. The Boss lowered his voice, but it was filled with excitement.

"Fuck it! We're doing it!

Once I make enough from this job, I'm going back home to get married!

Er Gou, you and the others block this big prize's escape route. I'll take the lead—!"

Whoosh!

Before the traffickers could react, their Boss's voice abruptly cut off.

At that moment, a thumb-wide silver-white blade had pierced through his neck, scattering droplets of blood.

For an instant, that cruel sight somehow carried a strange kind of beauty.

In that fleeting instant, the rest of the gang snapped to attention and reacted quickly.

Soul power fluctuations appeared around each of them as they tried to summon their Martial Souls.

"Too slow."

Qian Mo murmured. He instantly kicked the gang leader away, using the blow to disrupt several of their Martial Soul possessions.

At the same time, Qian Mo's right arm swung rapidly, unleashing a flurry of lightning-fast slashes.

Self-Created Soul Skill: Holy Light Swordsmanship!

Form Three: Dawnlight Ripples!

Blood sprayed everywhere, and the scene became incomparably gruesome.

By the time the traffickers reacted, all of their wrist tendons had been severed, and numerous sword marks of varying sizes had appeared across their bodies.

Meanwhile, Qian Mo, the culprit, casually flicked his blade and resumed his stance.

It was as though those dazzling slashes had merely been an illusion, so unreal that they seemed impossible.

But reality was reality precisely because it would not change according to one's subjective feelings.

Torn flesh, spraying blood, and then the bone-deep agony that followed.

For a moment, aside from the gang leader, all the traffickers began screaming miserably. Their cries were so loud that they could be heard clearly hundreds of meters away.

Yet despite the gruesome scene, no ordinary commoners came over to watch. They clearly understood how to survive and knew this was not a spectacle they could afford to witness.

Seeing that, Qian Mo let out a slight sigh of relief.

Human traffickers deserved to die, so he had failed to restrain himself and acted immediately.

But if ordinary commoners saw this scene, who knew what absurd rumors would spread afterward?

Then his plans to build up a force here would likely face quite a few additional obstacles.

While Qian Mo was briefly relaxing, several quick-witted members of the gang tried to take advantage of the chaos and run.

So Qian Mo could only kindly sever their ankle tendons as well. That way, they could obediently accept his righteous judgment.

As for why Qian Mo was so skilled at fighting people?

He could only thank his past self for working hard.

Because he knew how cruel this world was, Qian Mo had begun systematic adaptation training even before hunting soul beasts.

Later, he had familiarized himself with blood through slaughtering livestock, which was why he could remain so composed in this sudden encounter.