A Husky Thrown into a Wolf Pack

A young man had arrived in the Cemetery District.

A deathly wind flowed calmly across the land.

The young man named Chen Ruiping had entered this world for the first time—a world as far as the eye could see, filled with nothing but black and gray, seemingly not very welcoming to the living.

Yet this guy, who looked like an overly curious child, had a gleaming brass sword strapped to his back and wore Daoist robes.

One moment, he dug up a skeleton that was slowly "sinking" into the soil to examine it; the next, he casually snapped off several branches from a black shrub growing on a rock. After sniffing them carefully, he still was not satisfied and actually put one in his mouth for a bite—

Wasn't he basically a hyperactive kid?

Before long, half his face had taken on a faint bluish-black hue and begun to swell. He had clearly shown signs of poisoning. The two "guides" following behind him had no choice but to take out a bottle of Holy Water for him to rinse his mouth with, only for him to wave them off hesitantly.

"Don't—don't use it—I'm just a little curious—it'll be fine in a while—"

And indeed, the sharp aura that suddenly radiated from him was no joke. Before long, he pressed a finger to the corner of his mouth. Through a pinprick-sized wound, he forced out a small pool of black blood, and the condition of his face visibly improved as well.

The other onlookers could only sigh in admiration. As expected of a Third Tier—his body was seriously tough!

Yes, according to the information sent out for their reception, this fellow, who was supposedly enhanced as a "Sword Cultivator," should have been a newly advanced Third Tier!

That fact alone was