Fiends Cannot Be Killed

Even though Su Wu had only a little over six hundred Origin Jade, that did nothing to stop him from feeling that spending a thousand Origin Jade on the Mind-Root Reserve was an incredible bargain.

After obtaining the Mind-Root Reserve, he would still need to find a meditation method before he could truly anchor this power within himself and use it repeatedly.

At present, Su Wu still knew nothing about the world Zhuo Jie had once lived in, much less when he might obtain a meditation method.

In truth, Su Wu also understood that the Mind-Root Reserve merely offered a possible approach to dealing with the Worker Fiends.

It was distant water that could not quench his immediate thirst.

He calmed himself and brought up another redeemable item: the Corpse Buddha Ghost Hand.

Skipping the various descriptions of the ghost hand, he looked straight at the final two lines.

Current success rate for hosting the Corpse Buddha Ghost Hand: 21%.

Compatibility with the host: 3.5%.

Both values had increased.

The success rate had risen considerably, while the increase in compatibility was very small.

Compatibility probably required him to actually host it first, then explore and train continuously before it could improve significantly.

The hosting success rate, however, was different.

Every time I experience Zhuo Jie's past life, it's equivalent to reenacting his past through my own body.

Does that make the ghost hand more accepting of me, increasing the hosting success rate along with it?

Su Wu studied the two values, thoughts flashing through his mind as he pondered for a long while.

Making up his mind, he summoned the simulator again. "Begin the 'Zhuo Jie's Past Life' simulation!"

Selection confirmed.

500 Origin Jade deducted. Your wallet balance is 198 Origin Jade.

In this simulation, you cannot bring in anything other than yourself. You may spend 20 Origin Jade to personally experience the original owner's past life. Spend this amount?

"...No."

Loading game...

Zhuo Jie's past life loaded successfully!

The sky all around was as dim as before, and the great snowy mountain on the distant horizon radiated a holy, peaceful glow.

Su Wu hurried over to Zhuo Jie's father, who lay prone on the ground. After taking the food and letter, he left without looking back, wasting no time at all.

He hoped this would allow him to escape Narrow-Sleeved Guanyin's pursuit.

But that was pure wishful thinking.

Once Narrow-Sleeved Guanyin had locked onto him, he would eventually encounter this fiend, no matter how far or how long he ran.

The only difference might be how long it took.

This time, after running out of the dark forest, Su Wu saw Narrow-Sleeved Guanyin on a stretch of riverbank bleached pale by the moonlight, its heart-shaped face glowing white.

Just as Narrow-Sleeved Guanyin was about to crawl into his mouth, an enormous black-and-tan dog lunged out of the darkness again and barked it away.

Howls rose one after another in the black wind.

Pairs of eyes, cast a ghastly green by the light of the night, surrounded Su Wu.

A rough count gave him twenty-eight pairs of eyes, meaning there were twenty-eight enormous dogs around him.

After his previous encounter with them, he no longer feared these enormous dogs formed from the Mind-Root Reserve. He stepped forward, intending to approach the pack in the darkness.

But as he took that step, the dogs rode away on the black wind and vanished in an instant.

Su Wu smacked his lips but did not insist. Using the North Star to find northwest, he continued onward.

Once again, he walked for a day and a night.

As the sun was about to set on the second day, he saw the temple on the hill.

The temple had no name, and Su Wu could not read the writing traced on the scripture hangings draped down its four walls.

He stepped over the threshold. Rather than choosing the first room on the left as he had last time, he first looked around the main hall directly opposite the entrance.

After examining the statue enshrined in the main hall-a figure with a bird's head, a human body, and two wings sprouting from its back-Su Wu entered the first room on the right beside the main hall.

Zhuo Jie's father had said that three religious masters lived in this temple.

Surely all three masters wouldn't want to beat or kill me?

If that were the case, wouldn't Zhuo Jie's father have deliberately sent his own son here to die?

One of these masters has to be the right choice.

The furnishings in this room were not much different from those in the previous one, except that a wolf pelt lay on the floor instead of a thick carpet.

The lifelike wolf's head faced the doorway. Beyond its tail, a bald old monk with a long beard sat on a meditation bed, looking at Su Wu with kindly eyes.

"Master, my father sent me to seek shelter with you!"

Su Wu handed him the letter.

The old monk nodded and narrowed his eyes slightly, reading the letter by lamplight.

A moment later, he carefully folded the letter, set it on the table, and asked Su Wu, "Your father and I have been friends for decades. Back then, we practiced together at the No-Thought Venerable Power Temple.

"Later, he broke the precepts and returned to secular life, while I was sent to keep watch over this place. We lost touch after that.

"The letter says that Narrow-Sleeved Guanyin has been terrorizing your village lately, and that many villagers have been eaten by it. That's why you've come to seek shelter with me, isn't it?"

The old monk spoke slowly, his words gentle.

Yet Su Wu detected a glaring flaw in what he said!

Since Zhuo Jie's father had already lost contact with this old monk, how had he known the monk lived here, and even written a letter specifically to send his son to him for shelter?

If Zhuo Jie's father had known all along that the old monk was in this temple, why had he deliberately avoided contacting him?

Why wait until he was in danger before thinking of entrusting his son to a friend he had neglected for so long?

The old monk's words were riddled with unsettling inconsistencies. Su Wu grew wary of him and nodded without betraying anything. Taking small steps backward, he said, "Yes, that's right. Can you help us kill Narrow-Sleeved Guanyin?"

"How could a fiend possibly be killed?"

The old monk shook his head, seemingly oblivious to Su Wu's retreat, and gave an answer completely different from that of the long-faced, middle-aged monk.

Fiends can't be killed?

Su Wu's heart jolted. Staring at the old monk, he asked, "Why can't fiends be killed?"

Meeting his gaze, the old monk smiled.

The oil lamp's flame suddenly turned a ghastly green, bathing the entire room in green light.

In that ghastly glow, the shadow of the old monk seated on the meditation bed overlapped with Su Wu's.

The old monk on the meditation bed suddenly "split open."

A fissure burst open across "his" smooth, gleaming scalp. Amid a teeth-grating sound of bone and flesh tearing, a withered head emerged from the crack,

Flames flickered in its pitch-black eye sockets. Its upper and lower teeth clacked together incessantly, producing a hollow voice. "I am a fiend. Even I can't kill myself. What makes anyone else think they can?!"

A desiccated corpse crawled completely out of the old monk's skin. Every hair on Su Wu's body stood on end, yet at that very moment, he could not move!

He could only watch as the dried corpse approached him amid the constantly trembling, splintering light and shadows, laid him flat on the floor, and stripped off his clothes.

Then it produced, from somewhere unknown, a brush dipped in vermilion pigment.

The brush tip was like a blade. Every stroke across Su Wu's body brought the agony of being sliced apart!

"Aah-fuck you! Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!"