A week passed.
Quan Cangtian's room on the second floor of the inn.
Morning sunlight squeezed through the gap in the curtains. Zixiao and Quan Batian were both gone; they had gone outside the city to take care of something and would not return until noon.
Quan Cangtian sat at the edge of the bed.
His right palm faced upward.
A dark red crystal pulsed beneath his palm.
Slowly. Once per second.
Autonomous Adaptation was suppressing the gene, while the gene was growing. The two forces tugged at each other inside his body like two people in a tug-of-war.
He could sense the gene's urge.
It wanted to go southeast.
It wanted to get close to the Dark Soul Cult.
That was not his own thought.
It was the gene's thought.
He stood up.
He walked to the window.
He looked outside.
To the southeast lay the Dark Alley District.
A week ago, he had discovered traces of the Dark Soul Cult there.
A week later, he needed more information.
The Dark Soul Cult was waiting for him.
The Pontifex was waiting for him.
He needed to know what they were waiting for.
Dark Alley District.
Quan Cangtian entered.
The layout here was different from a week ago.
The bun shop on the left had closed down, with a yellowed sheet of paper pasted to its door reading, "For Transfer." The teahouse on the right had changed hands. An old man had brewed tea there before; now, a young man was wiping down the tables.
They were making adjustments.
The Dark Soul Cult was making adjustments.
Quan Cangtian did not head straight inside.
He stood at the entrance to the alley and observed.
The alley was narrow, with houses crowded together on both sides, their eaves nearly touching. The ground was paved with bluestone slabs, some of them cracked and sprouting weeds.
He counted them.
Seven shops on the left, six on the right.
Half were closed.
A third had changed hands.
The Dark Soul Cult was contracting.
Or perhaps relocating.
The first hideout.
It was disguised as a casino.
The sign read "Tianyun Casino," but the lettering had faded so badly it was almost illegible.
Quan Cangtian pushed open the door.
The hinges creaked.
The inside was empty.
The gambling tables were still there, but a layer of dust covered them. A dice cup lay overturned at the corner of a table, and dice were scattered across the floor. The lantern in the corner had gone out, its wick burned into black charcoal.
He walked over to a gambling table.
He ran a finger across its surface.
The dust was thick.
No one had been here for at least a week.
He felt the gene pulse.
Very faintly.
This was not the core.
Deep within the Dark Alley District.
Quan Cangtian continued forward.
The alley grew narrower, and the houses on either side became older. Some walls had already collapsed halfway, exposing the wooden beams within.
He heard footsteps.
Three people.
They approached from ahead.
He darted into the corner by a wall.
The three wore black robes, their faces hidden beneath their hoods. They walked slowly, talking as they went.
"Did the Young Patriarch come again today?"
"He did. He's at the third hideout."
"What about the Pontifex?"
"The Pontifex is waiting."
"Waiting for what?"
"Waiting for him."
The three people passed by.
Quan Cangtian stepped out from the corner.
The Young Patriarch.
The Pontifex.
Waiting for him.
It was confirmed.
The Dark Soul Cult was indeed looking for him.
The second hideout.
It was disguised as a pharmacy.
The sign read "Jishi Pharmacy." The lettering was new, freshly painted.
Quan Cangtian pushed open the door.
There were people inside.
Three Black-Robed People.
They stood behind the counter. When they saw Quan Cangtian enter, they said nothing.
The first black-robed person moved.
He rushed over quickly.
A short blade was in his hand.
Quan Cangtian shifted aside and dodged.
The short blade sliced past his clothes.
He seized the black-robed person's wrist.
Then twisted it backward.
Crack.
The wrist broke.
The black-robed person screamed.
Quan Cangtian kicked him in the chest.
The black-robed person flew backward, slammed into the wall, slid down, and did not move.
The second black-robed person charged.
He held a long staff.
Quan Cangtian raised his right hand.
Hellfire Transformation activated.
Blackish-red light erupted from his body.
He felt his life burning away.
His strength surged wildly.
He charged forward.
One punch.
It slammed into the black-robed person's chest.
The black-robed person flew backward and crashed into the doorframe, shattering it.
He fell to the ground and did not move.
The third black-robed person stood there.
He did not move.
The third black-robed person watched Quan Cangtian.
He was a little taller than the first two.
His aura was stronger as well.
Level 81.
Spirit Douluo.
"You're strong."
Quan Cangtian said nothing.
"Level 21, with the combat power of a Soul Emperor."
"Not bad."
The black-robed person walked behind the counter.
He leaned against it.
"The Pontifex asked me to deliver a message."
Quan Cangtian.
"What message?"
The black-robed person.
"The Pontifex can help you control the gene."
"Control it completely."
"Not suppress it."
"Eradicate it."
Quan Cangtian.
"What is the price?"
The black-robed person smiled.
"Become his man."
Quan Cangtian.
"I refuse."
The black-robed person nodded.
"I knew you would refuse."
"But you will regret it."
He walked to the doorway.
He looked back.
"The gene is growing."
"You will not be able to suppress it for much longer."
"When you can no longer suppress it."
"Come find us again."
He left.
Quan Cangtian stood inside the pharmacy.
The crystal in his palm pulsed.
The third hideout.
Quan Cangtian continued onward.
The alley had reached its end.
An open space lay ahead.
A house stood in the middle of it.
Three stories high, with black brick walls and every window sealed shut.
He sensed an aura.
Very strong.
It came from inside the house.
At least Titled Douluo level.
The Dark Soul Cult had a Titled Douluo stationed in Tianhun City.
He stopped.
He could not go inside.
Going in would mean certain death.
He turned around.
He prepared to retreat.
In the alley.
Quan Cangtian headed back.
After taking a dozen or so steps.
Two people appeared ahead.
Two Black-Robed People.
They stood in the middle of the alley, blocking his path.
The one on the left was very tall and held a broadsword.
The one on the right was very thin and held two daggers.
"The Young Patriarch told us to test you."
The one on the left spoke.
"To see just how strong you really are."
Quan Cangtian clenched his fists.
Hellfire Transformation was still operating.
To the Death activated.
He felt his life force burning.
His power surged.
The one on the left charged at him.
The broadsword came down.
Quan Cangtian twisted aside and dodged.
The blade struck the ground, shattering the bluestone slabs.
He rushed forward.
A punch.
It slammed into the left man's chest.
The left man retreated two steps.
He did not fall.
"Interesting."
The one on the right charged as well.
His two daggers crossed as they slashed toward Quan Cangtian's neck.
Quan Cangtian raised his left arm to block.
The daggers cut into his arm.
Blood sprayed out.
But he did not retreat.
He grabbed the right man's wrist.
He yanked hard.
The right man was pulled toward him.
Quan Cangtian drove a punch into his face.
The right man flew away and crashed into the wall.
The left man charged again.
His broadsword swept sideways.
Quan Cangtian could not dodge.
The flat of the blade struck him.
He flew away.
He crashed into the wall.
He coughed up blood.
He climbed back up.
His arm was bleeding.
His chest ached.
But he did not stop.
The left man charged over.
The broadsword came down.
Quan Cangtian did not dodge.
He was waiting.
At the instant the broadsword fell.
He rushed forward.
A punch.
It slammed into the left man's chest.
The left man staggered back three steps.
He dropped to his knees.
He coughed up blood.
Quan Cangtian also dropped to his knees.
Panting.
But he got back up.
He turned around.
And ran.
The inn.
Zixiao sat by the bed.
Quan Batian stood by the window.
"He'll be fine."
Zixiao.
"He went to the Dark Alley District alone."
Quan Batian.
"I know."
Zixiao.
"The Dark Soul Cult is there."
Quan Batian.
"I know."
Zixiao stood up.
She walked to the window.
She looked outside.
"He should be back by now."
Quan Batian.
"He'll come back."
Zixiao said nothing.
She stood by the window.
She looked outside.
Afternoon.
Quan Cangtian pushed open the door.
Zixiao stood up.
She saw the wounds on his body.
The blood on his arm.
The bruising on his chest.
"You're hurt."
Quan Cangtian.
"It's nothing."
He walked to the bed.
He sat down.
He explained what had happened.
The locations and strength of the three strongholds.
The first stronghold was empty.
The second had three Black-Robed People; two had been defeated, while one was level 80 and had relayed the Pontifex's message.
The third stronghold had a Titled Douluo stationed there.
While retreating, he had been intercepted by two Spirit Douluo and narrowly won.
After Quan Batian heard this.
He walked to the window.
"The Dark Soul Cult will not let this go."
Quan Cangtian.
"I know."
Quan Batian.
"The Pontifex is waiting for you."
Quan Cangtian.
"I will not become one of his people."
Quan Batian nodded.
"Then become stronger."
"Strong enough that you won't need anyone's help."
Night.
The inn.
Quan Cangtian sat cross-legged on the bed.
The crystal in his palm pulsed.
Autonomous Adaptation was operating.
His gene was growing.
He closed his eyes.
He felt the two forces within him pulling against each other.
He needed to become stronger.
Strong enough to suppress the gene.
Strong enough to assimilate the gene.
Strong enough that he would not need the Pontifex's help.
Strong enough that he would not need anyone's help.
Outside the window, the lights of Tianhun City flickered.
The Dark Soul Cult was waiting for him.
The Pontifex was waiting for him.
Time was passing.
He needed to be faster than time.
Before you continue