Fifteen minutes earlier, I lay face down in blood that was not entirely my own.
My limbs would not respond. Every attempt to move ended in a tremor that accomplished nothing. The room reeked of iron and rot, and the weight of the corpses beneath me pressed against my ribs like a mockery of comfort.
Lang Bo stood over me, chewing thoughtfully.
He regarded me the way a gourmand might regard a rare delicacy.
“Tell me,” he said conversationally, tilting his head as if we were discussing tea rather than my impending dismemberment, “which part of yourself are you most proud of? I could start there. It feels only fair.”
I lifted my head just enough to see him clearly.
When he stepped closer, indulging his curiosity, I acted.
I lunged forward with the last strength in my neck and jaws and bit down on his leg.
Hard.
Flesh tore between my teeth.
I met his eyes with the most hateful glare I could muster and ripped a chunk free as he howled.
Lang Bo snarled and kicked me away. I rolled across the blood-slick floor, laughing even as pain flared through my broken body.
Before he could react further, I summoned an item directly from my inventory into my mouth.
A vial shattered between my teeth.
Pinnacle Snake Blood Poison.
Unlike the poison Yao Yazhu once used on Meng Rong and me, this venom was less potent, but it was just as deadly and probably even more painful. I had confiscated it afterward from Yao Yazhu, thinking it might be useful someday.
I had not anticipated using it like this.
Lang Bo seized me by the collar and lifted me effortlessly, his expression twisted with fury.
“I will make sure you suffer,” he promised.
A blade of compressed blood flashed.
My arm separated from my body in a clean arc.
The pain was distant, as though happening to someone else.
I shoved the bleeding stump straight toward his mouth and spat a mixture of blood and venom into his face. The poison I had consumed was potent enough that my own blood became toxic. It would burn through flesh and meridians alike before dispersing.
Lang Bo recoiled, cursing as he wiped at his mouth and eyes.
I laughed, even as darkness crept in at the edges of my vision.
“Ha ha ha! That is what you get for playing with your food, you sick bastard. Go on. I dare you to eat my tainted meat.”
He stared at me with bloodshot eyes, lips curling back in something that was not entirely anger.
“Oh, I will eat you,” he said eagerly. “It will be troublesome with the poison, but what better way to build resistance? Ha ha ha!”
He truly was insane.
The world faded.
When awareness returned, I stood in a place that did not belong to the mortal realm.
An endless lake of blood stretched to the horizon. Above it hung a crimson sky devoured by an eclipse. Mountains of bones rose like monuments to forgotten wars.
Seated casually atop the tallest mound was Yakuza Man.
Not me.
Him.
The version I had idolized. The legend. White suit pristine, red shirt immaculate, sunglasses reflecting the blood-red sky.
He looked down at me without expression.
“I do not care anymore,” he said flatly. “Do whatever you want.”
I blinked.
The next instant, I stood upon a mountain peak above rolling, luminous clouds. The air was thin and cold. Sunlight pierced through the heavens as though nothing monstrous had ever existed. It was the same place where I spawned into existence.
A notification flickered before my eyes.
I had leveled up.
Someone had killed Lang Bo.
A grin split my face despite everything.
“Serves you right,” I muttered.
The clouds drifted like an ocean beneath me. I adjusted my sunglasses, staring directly at the sun as if challenging it.
Another notification surfaced.
[Life Token: 1/3]
So I had burned one.
I was alive.
I was also very tempted to leave.
To walk away from this madness. To let the quest fail. To wake up back in my apartment, intact, safe, and ordinary.
It would have been easy.
But that would not align with the code I had constructed for myself.
I had been cautious, strategic, even selfish at times. However, there were qualities I associated with the Yakuza Man I admired from audacity, resolve, and an unwillingness to retreat when others depended on him.
If I abandoned that now, then what was the point of idolizing him at all?
“Hey,” I said aloud to the empty sky, though I knew he was listening somewhere within me. “I am going to show you my resolve.”
A translucent window appeared before me.
[Quest: Protect the Meteor Child]
The timing was not subtle.
If the quest interface had reappeared so urgently, then Xue Hai was still in danger.
I did not hesitate.
From the system shop, I purchased a return ticket, an overpriced, gimmicky item that allowed teleportation to the location of one’s death.
Spirit Coins drained from my balance in a painful chunk.
I stared at the thin slip of paper in my hand.
“Here goes nothing,” I said.
I tore it in half.
The world folded inward.
A greater force seized me, pulling me down through light and cloud, through sky and memory, dragging me back toward blood and violence.
The sensation of descent did not end when the world reformed around me.
It seemed that I could move, even while being flung in the sky.
Wind roared past my ears as the sky tore open beneath me, but my limbs responded as though I were merely sprinting across flat ground. I flexed my fingers experimentally and grinned.
“Now this could be useful.”
From my inventory, I pulled out a familiar cauldron, the same one Meng Po had used with such disturbing enthusiasm. Its bronze surface gleamed faintly despite the violent air currents.
“Huh?” I muttered. “Meng Po… Meng Rong… Meng Wu…”
Did that crazy lady have some connection with the Meng family?
I frowned behind my sunglasses. “I should think about that later.”
Cradling the cauldron against my chest, I circulated my qi and poured it into the vessel. The Heaven-Silk Art flowed smoothly, threads of refined energy weaving into the metal and causing faint inscriptions along its surface to flicker alive.
Before long, the familiar silhouette of Xincheng came into view beneath me.
Clouds parted. Rooftops sharpened. The lord’s residence loomed ahead.
I hurriedly allocated whatever remaining points I had as the interface unfolded before my eyes.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
[NAME: YAKUZA MAN]
[LEVEL: 301]
Health: 100%
Energy: 100%
Awesomeness: 145
Swiftness: 82
Toughness: 62
Life Token: 1 / 3
“Back in business,” I said with satisfaction.
As I descended lower, I saw the damage immediately. One end of the lord’s residence had been completely torn away, as though scooped out by a colossal hand. Debris spiraled through turbulent winds.
Meng Rong knelt on the ground, blood streaking from her nose.
Meng Wu and Zhu Shufen clung to one another near a fractured support beam, unaware of my arrival.
Only Xue Hai was staring directly at me.
Of course she was.
Even from above, I could see her unusually clear eyes tracking my fall with unnerving precision. Since I had technically died, the cooldown on my Binding Vow’s special power-up should have reset. At least, that was how it worked in theory.
“Worth a try,” I muttered.
The Return Ticket was designed to bring me back to where I last died, but because I could move during transit, I decided to test the limits. I bent my knees midair and executed a double jump, redirecting my trajectory straight toward the clearly hostile old man below.
Good news: I was heading directly for him.
Bad news: whatever protective buffer the ticket had granted against gravity abruptly vanished.
The sudden acceleration made my stomach lurch violently.
“Oh, that is not good,” I hissed.
Strangely, it seemed only Xue Hai had noticed my altered descent. The others remained locked in their own desperate standoff. While falling, I tucked my limbs inward, compressing my frame into a crouched posture to activate my stealth effect.
Just like the wind, I descended.
I landed directly behind Zhong Fu without so much as a whisper of displaced air and immediately slammed the cauldron down over his head.
The bronze rim sealed around his shoulders with a resonant clang.
I glanced at the floating interface above him.
[Zhong Fu]
[Level 400 (457)]
[Debuff: Suppressed Level]
My grin widened.
“Ha ha ha! Fortune favors the bold!”
The moment of triumph lasted precisely half a second.
The impact from my landing shattered both of my legs up to the knees. Pain detonated through my body as bone splintered under the strain, forcing me down onto literal knees. At the same instant, Zhong Fu struck backward with terrifying precision, his palm cleaving through the space where my head had been a heartbeat earlier, except because of the broken legs, I was able to preemptively dodge it.
“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, his voice echoing hollowly from inside the cauldron as he clawed at it. “Remove this at once!”
He tried to pry it free, but the qi-infused metal refused to budge.
Meng Rong rushed forward and slid to my side, hooking an arm around my waist and dragging me backward to create distance.
“Yakuza Man,” she said sharply, tearful, “you are alive.”
I scoffed. “Duh.”
She glared at me.
I apologized immediately, “S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Huh? Scared? Me?”
My broken knees were already knitting themselves back together. Meng Rong’s familiar silver fox materialized beside us, luminous fur rippling as it stood over my legs. Warm restorative energy flowed downward, accelerating the healing process.
Across the courtyard, Xue Hai’s voice rang out.
“Yakuza Man, he is the only one left! Please deal with him!”
“Just leave and do not be a nuisance!” I shouted back.
Meng Wu and Zhu Shufen did not hesitate this time. The three of them began retreating rapidly toward the hidden passage.
“No, you do not!” Zhong Fu roared, still blind beneath the cauldron. He extended a hand in Xue Hai’s direction, gathering invisible force.
Before he could release it, a figure burst from the opposite side of the courtyard.
It was Teng Wen.
With astonishing audacity, he thrust his spear directly into Zhong Fu’s rear.
I instinctively snapped my legs closed.
A grotesque squelch echoed through the chaos, followed by a sharply suppressed cry of pain.
Teng Wen did not linger. He yanked his weapon free, pivoted, and sprinted in the opposite direction while waving a talisman. The paper ignited midair, erupting into searing flames that engulfed Zhong Fu’s robes.
I winced.
Meng Rong exhaled sharply beside me. “I gave them those talismans for a reason.”
Despite the spear wound and the flames licking around him, Zhong Fu’s health bar barely shifted.
[Health: 89%]
“Enough,” Zhong Fu said coldly.
The flames dispersed outward in a violent shockwave. The courtyard cracked beneath his feet as raw pressure radiated from his body.
“Since I cannot have the Meteor Child,” he continued, his voice trembling with restrained fury, “then I shall lay waste to this entire city if I must.”
He seized the rim of the cauldron again and pulled.
“Ah! Damn it!” he snarled as it refused to move. “Get this thing off me!”
We had less than five minutes.
The special overdrive granted by the Binding Vow pulsed through my meridians like liquid lightning, but I could feel its limit approaching. The power was immense, intoxicating even, yet it was not permanent. When it ended, the backlash would follow.
We needed to finish this before that happened.
I leaned closer to Meng Rong and spoke under the roar of fractured wind and splintering stone. “We need to do this quickly. If we hold back any longer—”
“I know,” she replied before I could finish. Her voice was calm, but her eyes gleamed with something fierce. “I can feel it too. There is a special power residing within the Binding Vow now. I can feel your thoughts, your emotions… everything.”
The connection between us tightened, vivid and undeniable. It was not merely shared strength. It was shared intent.
“You want to take him down badly, do you not?” she asked.
“And you feel the same,” I answered.
She did not deny it.
Through the Binding Vow, I could feel her as clearly as my own pulse, her fury at Zhong Fu’s arrogance, her fear for her family, and her refusal to yield. It mingled seamlessly with my own resolve.
Behind us, Zhong Fu thrashed blindly, the cauldron still sealed over his head.
“AH! IF YOU REMOVE THIS THING FROM ME, I WILL SPARE YOUR LIFE!” he roared, his voice reverberating hollowly inside the bronze prison.
Meng Rong suppressed a laugh. “I did not know this old man would behave like this after everything he has shown.”
“I will not let this humiliation stand—” Zhong Fu began.
I did not allow him to finish.
My signature bat materialized in my grasp, and I stepped in with a full-bodied swing.
“Tyrant’s Path!”
The bat collided with the cauldron.
The impact rang like a temple bell struck by divine judgment.
Zhong Fu’s body was launched across the courtyard, carving a trench through stone before crashing into what remained of a pillar.
The Heaven-Silk Art I had woven into the cauldron flared brightly. It would only hold as long as the Binding Vow’s overdrive remained active. Once the timer expired, the reinforcement would collapse.
I flicked my wrist and pulled on the invisible silk threads attached to the cauldron.
Zhong Fu’s body jerked violently and snapped back toward me as though hooked by an unseen chain.
I stepped forward for a second swing.
“He possesses gravity-related arts!” Meng Rong warned.
The air around me compressed suddenly, an invisible hammer descending from above. I reacted instinctively, performing a double jump to the side. The ground where I had stood imploded into a crater, stone pulverized into dust.
Meng Rong’s aura surged.
Her hair bleached into a brilliant white, and silver fox ears emerged from where her human ears had been. Two elegant tails unfurled behind her, swaying with controlled power.
“With this much qi, it should be possible,” she declared, her voice carrying a resonant echo. “I will never show you mercy, demon!”
A burst of frost erupted from beneath Zhong Fu’s foot, spreading outward in jagged crystalline veins.
I rushed him again, channeling the overdrive’s full amplification.
“Bat of the Mad Dog!”
The bat struck the cauldron repeatedly in rapid succession. Each blow reverberated through the metal prison, turning it into an instrument of unrelenting torment.
Zhong Fu staggered, hands clawing at the bronze.
“Please! Damn it! Stop!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “It is ringing too much!”
I laughed. “Here is one more. Bat of the Mad Dog!”
The courtyard echoed with metallic percussion.
“Fine,” Zhong Fu snarled, abandoning all pretense. “Have it your way!”
He slammed his palm downward.
Within his radius, gravity intensified monstrously. The earth collapsed inward, forming a massive crater centered on his position. I felt my organs strain under the sudden pressure, but I retreated at the last second, maintaining tension on the Heaven-Silk threads.
Above him, Meng Rong condensed an enormous mass of frost.
The chunk of ice shimmered with compressed qi before accelerating downward under Zhong Fu’s own amplified gravity. It struck with catastrophic force, deepening the crater and shaking the entire estate to its foundation.
“I SHALL INFLICT UPON YOU PAIN YOU WILL NEVER FORGET!” Zhong Fu bellowed.
The frost exploded outward as he flexed his qi, shattering it into lethal shards.
My bat left my hand.
Guided by the silk threads, it became a projectile puppet under my control. I manipulated it midair, yanking and redirecting it with precise tugs.
It smashed into the cauldron again.
And again.
And again.
“Ora-ora-ora!”
Ting!
Ting!
Tang!
Clang!
The rhythm was almost musical.
The sound rang bright and clear across the battlefield, a relentless chorus of bronze against reinforced skull.
Meng Rong’s lips curved into a ferocious grin.
She raised her sword, and frost surged along its length in jagged layers, thickening until the blade resembled a massive club. The ice gathered deliberately, mimicking the crude, blunt silhouette of my bat.
I could not help but feel a flicker of pride.
With a sweeping motion that carried both elegance and brutality, she brought it down upon the cauldron.
“Destruction Frost!”
The impact boomed like a winter thunderclap. Zhong Fu’s body jerked sideways, the bronze prison around his head ringing violently.
I stepped in without hesitation, retrieving my bat mid-motion and pouring everything into my next strike.
“Bat of the Mad Dog!”
The sound of cracked across the battlefield, sharp and triumphant.
Zhong Fu was launched toward Meng Rong as a flurry of motion chased after him.
“Destruction Frost!” she answered instantly, swinging again and sending him hurtling back toward me.
“Bat of the Mad Dog!”
He rebounded.
“Destruction Frost!”
“Bat of the Wild Dog!”
“Destruction Frost!”
“Bat of the Wild Dog!”
The exchange became a vicious rhythm. Each of us struck in perfect succession, batting Zhong Fu between us like a grotesque shuttlecock. The cauldron amplified every blow into a deafening peal that must have been agony within its confines.
Zhong Fu attempted to anchor himself with gravity, to crush the ground beneath his feet or propel himself away, but the overdrive-enhanced Heaven-Silk threads bound him to my control. Every time he tried to flee, I yanked him back into the arc of Meng Rong’s frost-laden swing.
We had him in a stun lock.
While he staggered in midair, I leaned low and whispered with savage satisfaction, “Heavenly Punishment!”
A surge of amplified force exploded from my strike, compounding the momentum already tearing through his body.
Meng Rong’s eyes gleamed as she followed with her own technique. “Render Fantasy!”
For a fraction of a second, the air distorted. Illusions overlapped reality, fracturing Zhong Fu’s perception. I could feel the disorientation ripple through him via the Binding Vow’s heightened awareness.
A notification flickered before my eyes.
[Health: 17%]
“Finally,” I muttered.
His body was monstrously resilient. Every strike that would have obliterated a lesser cultivator barely chipped away at him. Yet the bar had fallen steadily under our relentless assault.
We were close.
I crouched and gathered power into my legs before unleashing another amplified blow.
“Tyrant’s Path!”
The strike connected beneath his center of mass and sent him rocketing upward into the sky.
When I glanced at Meng Rong, I noticed that a third tail had unfurled behind her. The silver-white appendages moved with predatory grace, each one brimming with concentrated qi.
She inhaled deeply.
An eerie blue flame manifested around her blade, translucent, almost insubstantial, yet radiating a chilling menace.
High above us, Zhong Fu struggled to stabilize himself. Even with the cauldron still lodged over his head, he managed to snarl, “I grow weary of your—”
I pulled sharply on the Heaven-Silk threads.
His body was dragged downward against his will, gravity turned traitor by my manipulation.
“Soulflame Art: Sky Purgatory!” Meng Rong declared.
The pale blue fire erupted upward in a spiraling column, swallowing Zhong Fu whole.
His scream tore through the night.
“Aaaaaaah!”
The sound was raw, stripped of arrogance.
[Health: 9%]
We did not relent.
One special move followed another in merciless succession. I swung until my arms ached despite the overdrive’s reinforcement. Meng Rong unleashed frost, illusion, and soulflame in seamless rotation. Every impact drove him deeper into the shattered courtyard.
Eventually, I inverted his own gravity field and smashed him downward with crushing force. The ground caved in as he struck, curling instinctively into himself.
He lay there like a shrimp, broken and smoldering, the cauldron still wedged stubbornly over his head.
We took turns striking him while he was down.
If I were honest, I might have found it slightly excessive.
More concerning, however, was the strange shift I sensed in Meng Rong. The Binding Vow carried not only strength but emotion, and hers was escalating into something sharp and unrestrained.
She laughed as she brought her frost-club down again.
“Ha ha ha! How does it feel?” she taunted. “You have caused me so much stress I might get white hair and wrinkles! Take this! Take this! What? You want mommy or something!?”
Technically, she already had white hair.
She laughed again, unbothered by the irony. “This is for all the pain you caused Xincheng, demon!”
