Chapter 34: Return to the City

The soldering iron, trailing blue smoke, lunged toward my face. In despair, I shut my eyes, fearing my face would be ruined forever. Mo Laosan, if I survive this, I swear I will tear you limb from limb.

A crisp clang rang out, and the soldering iron clattered to the ground.

“Master, this won’t work. Leave it to me.”

Zhang Lei. He strode before me, the brother I once trusted. I laughed bitterly and bowed my head.

Brotherhood? Ha. Is this what they call brotherhood? Memories flashed before my eyes—Liu Tingting’s betrayal, Zhang Lei’s cunning schemes—filling me with dread for the darkness within the human soul.

Raising my head, I roared, shaking the entire cave. My eyes blazed crimson, burning with fury. I summoned all the black energy in my body and struggled with all my might. At last, the chains snapped apart.

“How is this possible?” Zhang Lei and Mo Laosan exclaimed in unison, staring at me wide-eyed, as if they could not believe I had broken free.

I advanced step by step, eyes aflame, like a fearsome demon. Mo Laosan struck from thin air, a wave of white energy howling toward me. In the instant it passed through where I stood, I had already dodged, my afterimage dissolving in the spot I’d just occupied.

Mo Laosan drew a jet-black saber from his back, striding toward me, then suddenly attacked before reaching my side. The blade, gleaming with black light, slashed down. I twisted aside, narrowly avoiding it, and the ground behind me split open from the force.

He pressed the assault, slashing again and again. Without my Ice Blade, I could only parry, unable to strike back. Just then, Cang Lang and Shi Feng arrived, standing behind Zhang Lei, cold smirks on their faces. I dodged another blow, retreated quickly, and gathered all the black-and-white energy in my hands. Seizing my moment, I aimed a punch at Mo Laosan’s blade, sending it flying.

I lunged forward, my fist whistling toward Mo Laosan’s chest. He couldn’t evade in time and was sent flying by my punch. My body skimmed the ground, then sprang up; my left leg bent, my right foot stomping down with full force.

But Cang Lang caught my unstoppable kick with his fist. Only now did I realize his strength. A surge of energy blasted through my foot, forcing me to rebound and retreat.

Standing three meters away, clutching my chest, I glared at the four before me. Among them, Cang Lang was clearly the strongest. No wonder Yu Jing had been so gravely injured.

There was no choice. If I didn’t risk it all now, I’d lose even my life. The Thirty-Six Forms of the Heavenly Demon, first stage of the Heavenly Demon Art—pure combat technique.

As I unleashed my Heavenly Demon Skill, greed flashed in Mo Laosan’s eyes. “The Heavenly Demon Art is wasted on you. The Thirty-Six Forms could sweep all before them, yet in your hands it’s just a show. Hand it over, or you’ll die horribly. Hahaha!”

Mo Laosan sneered, but in the next moment, his expression froze. Perhaps he could have mocked my skill a few days ago, but now I would show him what it cost to cross me.

Every night before sleep, I had studied the Heavenly Demon Art. By now, I had nearly mastered its first stage.

Mo Laosan’s chest caved in deeply, blood trickling from his lips. In a second, I had landed a hundred punches on the same spot, each at full force. To outsiders, I was but a blur, but Mo Laosan had suffered a hundred blows.

I reached out with my right hand, drawing Mo Laosan’s saber to me with my inner energy. Lifting it with one hand, I prepared to end this contemptible wretch.

With all my might, I swung the blade, certain it would decapitate him—only for a great hand to seize it mid-strike. The sharp edge was held tightly in his grasp.

Cang Lang’s lips curled in a mocking smile. The blade warped in his grip. I tried to release it and leap back, but a force held my hand fast to the hilt.

Cang Lang yanked the blade, flinging both it and me against the wall. I struggled to my feet.

“Well, well, your strength has improved quite a bit,” Shi Feng applauded.

By now my injuries had mostly healed. Had Cang Lang not intervened, Mo Laosan would be dead. Mo Laosan now sat on the ground, eyes shut, meditating.

Wiping the blood from my mouth, I walked up to Cang Lang, meeting his gaze. He remained arrogant, a half-smile on his lips. Shi Feng approached. “Second Prince, leave this one to me.”

Unfolding a paper fan, Shi Feng came to stand before me. Without a word, he struck at my neck. I rolled back, pressing myself to the ground to dodge, but before I could rise, his foot was on my chest.

“Looks like I overestimated you. Hand over the Heavenly Demon Art, or I’ll cripple your hand right now.” Shi Feng looked down coldly. His foot pressed onto my wrist, and with a sharp twist, agony shot through me. With a sickening crack, the bone broke.

“Well? Will you talk or not?” Shi Feng stared down at me.

Sweat dripped from my brow into my eyes, blurring my vision. “Screw you and your whole family!” I struggled to my feet, only for Cang Lang to seize my throat and lift me off the ground. “So you have a death wish? I’ll give you one last chance. I’ll count to three. One, two—”

“Stop!” I turned toward the voice. Yu Jing? How had he gotten here? Without a word, Yu Jing dashed between me and Cang Lang, raising a violet dagger and slashing down. Cang Lang withdrew his arm, and Yu Jing pulled me up and sprinted toward the cave’s mouth. With the speed of a shadow, fallen leaves and branches whirled in his wake. Cang Lang pursued us close behind, and as I glanced back, he ran through the air itself. What terrifying power—what realm had he reached, to run through empty space?

Cang Lang struck at the air, sending an invisible wave of energy hurtling toward us. I shoved Yu Jing aside and was struck by the force myself. I glared at Cang Lang, charging toward him instead of retreating, and, with lightning speed, launched my signature kick at his chest.

Cang Lang sneered. “Foolish!”

At that moment, Shi Feng and the others burst from the cave as well. Mo Laosan, clutching his chest, followed behind. Suddenly, Zhang Lei lunged from behind and grabbed Cang Lang. I landed a fierce kick to Cang Lang’s face.

“Run! Now!” Zhang Lei’s final words to me.

I turned and ran. But before I had covered a few steps, a wave of invisible energy blasted me into the air. A flash of white light blinded me. I squeezed my eyes shut, calling Yu Jing’s name. Silence fell around me, as though none of them had ever been there.

When I opened my eyes, darkness surrounded me. I spread black energy to my brow, at last making out my surroundings. Before me stood a grove. Scanning the area, I saw no sign of Yu Jing, nor any trace of Cang Lang or the others. Suddenly, I heard a rustling from the nearby grass. I crept toward the sound and shouted, “Who’s there!”

A young boy in a school uniform stood up, hastily pulling up his pants. A girl lay on the ground beside him.

Damn! Isn’t that a student from the twenty-first century? Did they cross over too?

I grabbed the boy by the collar and demanded coldly, “Speak! What are you doing here?”

It was obvious what they’d been up to. The boy trembled in fear. “I—I…”

“Tell me! What time is it? If you don’t, I’ll kill you!” I barked.

He glanced at his glowing wristwatch and stammered, “Eight fifty-eight.”

“I mean, what year is it?”

“May twenty-eighth, 2012.” With that, the boy broke free and fled the woods.

I’m back. I’m finally back! Hahaha!

But Xu Qinghuan remains in that other world, the Nine-Tailed Fox’s fate is still unknown, Lan Yue, Iron Hammer, all facing the coming calamity. How can I abandon them now?

I paced the woods, clutching my head, my thoughts in turmoil.

“That’s him! Teach him a lesson for me!” The boy returned, leading a group of twenty-something thugs, each with a cigarette dangling from his lips, strutting arrogantly.

At the sight of cigarettes, my spirits soared. Damn, after over a year in another world, I hadn’t smoked a single one—almost forgot what they tasted like!

I tried to ingratiate myself. “Brothers, it’s a misunderstanding! Could I please have a smoke?”

I didn’t want to reveal my strength. In the twenty-first century, I was a researcher; I definitely didn’t want to end up strapped to a hospital bed with a bunch of men in white coats drawing my blood for experiments.

One of the thugs, clearly the leader, stepped forward. “Smoke your mother! Do you know who this is? You dare mess with the Qinglong Gang? Brothers, cut him!”

With a swish, several of them drew watermelon knives.