Chapter-Nine: Accept Your Fate
"Impossible, absolutely impossible! How could all my brothers be killed?"
Li Shan's pupils shrank to the size of needlepoints, and a bone-chilling dread surged from the soles of his feet.
It felt as though an invisible hand was squeezing his heart, making it almost impossible to breathe.
He tried to step forward, but his legs gave out, and he collapsed heavily to the ground. The sharp pain jolted him back to his senses.
"It hurts... This isn't a dream. But why... why don't I feel sad at all?"
Li Shan's gaze fell on the severed head of his old friend, now strung up like a pig's head in a slaughterhouse.
He couldn't feel any sadness. He wanted to cry, but not a single tear would come.
Ning Chen stepped forward slowly, his expression devoid of sympathy. His cold eyes bore into Li Shan.
"Taking what doesn't belong to you will always lead to death," Ning Chen said, his voice as sharp as the blade he raised high.
The hunting knife gleamed coldly in the dim light.
*Cough.*
With the force to split a mountain, Ning Chen swung the blade down hard.
The blade hurtled toward Li Shan's head.
"Why are you all dead?" Li Shan muttered, his voice trembling. "You're all gone. As the eldest brother, how can I face the villagers now? But let me help you one last time!"
"I'll avenge you!"
In the span of a few breaths, Li Shan's sorrow transformed into a seething, overwhelming rage.
Just as the blade's tip was mere inches from his head, Li Shan's body became a black blur, darting to the side with lightning speed.
Fast as thunder, he evaded the strike.
Ning Chen's blade sliced through empty air. He stared at Li Shan in surprise.
Li Shan, now kneeling on the ground, slowly raised his head. His eyes, dark and fierce like a bear's, burned with a murderous intensity.
"Boy," he growled, his voice dripping with fury, "accept your fate!"
After saying that, Li Shan gripped his scimitar tightly, his thigh muscles tensing as he pushed off the ground with force, shooting toward Ning Chen like an arrow released from a bowstring.
A man as strong as an ox, hardened by years of hunting, charged forward with a machete in hand, his entire being radiating furious killing intent.
Ordinary people would have been paralyzed with fear at such a terrifying sight. But who was Ning Chen?
The number of lives claimed by Ning Chen's hands had long surpassed the million mark. Among them were the old and the young, men and women, the strong and the weak.
Though their faces differed, their fates were the same—each became a dead soul feeding Ning Chen's blade. Could a mere hunter truly make Ning Chen feel fear?
When Ning Chen saw Li Shan's charge, he smiled instead of showing surprise. Calmly, he stepped forward to meet him, his sharp eyes tracking Li Shan's every move.
Li Shan reached him first, his scimitar raised high. With the momentum of his run, he swung the blade down with enough force to slice through the air. Ning Chen, unhurried, twisted his body slightly, evading the strike with ease.
The scimitar whizzed past, so close that Ning Chen could feel the chill of the blade.
In a fluid motion, Ning Chen shifted his hunting knife from an upright grip to a reverse grip and aimed a quick stab at Li Shan's wrist—the one holding the scimitar. His speed far outmatched Li Shan's, and his intent was clear: to disable Li Shan's dominant hand.
Li Shan, unable to react in time, instinctively leaped up, his thighs—thick as a child's waist—propelling him forward as he aimed a powerful kick at Ning Chen's abdomen.
Turning defense into offense, simplifying complexity into action.
Ning Chen's thigh muscles coiled like springs, and he leaped backward with explosive force, narrowly avoiding the kick. As Li Shan's attack missed, Ning Chen pulled his hunting knife back, muscles rippling under his clothes.
With all his strength, Ning Chen hurled the knife toward Li Shan, the blade cutting through the air with deadly precision.
Li Shan's eyes widened in shock. He quickly sidestepped, narrowly dodging the flying knife. But Ning Chen was relentless, following him like a shadow and exploiting every flaw in Li Shan's movements.
Ning Chen clenched his fists, his terrifying strength gathering in secret.
Just as Li Shan evaded the knife, Ning Chen's fist followed immediately, aimed directly at Li Shan's abdomen.
Ning Chen's sharp gaze scanned Li Shan's body, pinpointing his vulnerabilities: the upper dantion, the middle dantion and the lower dantion Each one was a target capable of inflicting severe injury.
Li Shan's eyes nearly bulged from their sockets as he realized the danger. But it was too late—Ning Chen had already penetrated his defenses.
The fist struck like a coiled dragon or a slithering snake, slamming into Li Shan's abdomen with a muffled *poof* that echoed like thunder. The terrifying force poured into him.
Li Shan's body curled up like a cooked shrimp.
"Pfft—ugh—" Bitter bile spilled from his mouth as all the strength drained from his body. The scimitar slipped from his grasp, clattering to the ground.
Half-kneeling, his face twisted in agony, Li Shan looked up at Ning Chen, who stood over him, cold and unyielding.
"Take advantage of his weakness and finish him off!" Ning Chen's thoughts were clear.
*Bang!*
Ning Chen's powerful thighs tightened, his pants straining as he lashed out with a whip-like kick, fierce and murderous.
Li Shan, still reeling from the earlier punch, felt the strong wind of the incoming kick before it landed.
"No, I can't dodge this. I have to block it," he thought desperately.
With no strength left in his legs, he crossed his arms over his chest in a feeble attempt to shield himself.
*Bang! Bang!*
The air seemed to shatter with the force of the kick, accompanied by the sickening sound of bones cracking.
Li Shan's body was flung through the air, tumbling twice on the dirt ground before slamming into a tree with a heavy thud.
"Pfft—hiss—ah!" Li Shan groaned, lying on the ground like a broken doll.
His arms were shattered, every bone fractured. His abdomen throbbed with unbearable pain. Dizzy and humiliated, he lay there, utterly defeated.
A hunter, strong and seasoned from years of chasing prey, couldn't last more than a few rounds against Ning Chen.
It was a testament to the effectiveness of Ning Chen's body-refining techniques from his previous life. After activating the method, his physique had been enhanced in every way.
His vision and hearing were as sharp as an eagle's, and his punches and kicks carried the strength of a bear or a tiger.
Ning Chen's first punch had struck Li Shan's liver, robbing him of all his strength.
The second kick shattered Li Shan's hands and completely incapacitated him.
Ning Chen approached him slowly, his expression cold and detached. He grabbed a fistful of Li Shan's rough, dry hair, forcing him to look up.
"I'll ask you one question—where is the 'Black Beetle' you mentioned?" Ning Chen's voice was chilling.
Li Shan's eyes were unfocused, but the sharp pain in his scalp brought him back to his senses. A sneer curled at the corner of his lips.
"Why should I tell you?" he spat.
Ning Chen wasn't rushed. He chuckled softly—a sound that made Li Shan feel as though he'd been plunged into an ice cave.
"Shall I remind you that there hasn't been an adult male in the village five miles southeast for a long time? Most of the residents there are old people, women, and children," Ning Chen said casually.
Hearing this, Li Shan's blurry eyes sharpened, burning with anger. At the same time, an icy chill snaked down his spine.
"You... you wouldn't dare! If you touch a single soul there, I'll kill you!" he roared, fury and desperation in his voice.
"Hahaha. So, I was right," Ning Chen said, his black eyes locking onto Li Shan's, a cold smile spreading across his face.
Li Shan was silent for a moment, his chest heaving. Finally, he muttered bitterly, "Fine... It's in my left pocket. Take it yourself. But I'll warn you—the family won't let you go if they find out you've been slaughtering people indiscriminately."
So, the Black Boar Gu was with Li Shan all along, carried on his person.
Ning Chen let out a loud, uncontrollable laugh, as though he'd just heard the most amusing joke in the world. He raised his palm in front of Li Shan's face. A crescent-shaped mark on his palm began to glow, emitting a faint, blue mist under the urging of his true essence.
"Hahaha! My apologies—I forgot to introduce myself. My surname is Gu Yue," Ning Chen said, his tone dripping with mockery.
Li Shan froze, his final glimmer of hope extinguished like a flame doused by cold water.
"Hehe," Ning Chen smirked, leaning closer. "You said the Gu is in your pocket? I don't believe you."
Ning Chen was no fool. A thousand-year-old demon like him would never trust another so easily. He knew that seizing the Gu worm without caution could give the other party an opportunity to strike, turning him into prey.
Even with Li Shan's broken hands, Ning Chen's wariness was deeply ingrained.
"My hands are shattered. What threat could I possibly pose to you? Besides, would I gamble with the lives of a whole village?" Li Shan said weakly.
Though Ning Chen's eyes remained sharp and distrustful, his hand moved cautiously toward Li Shan's left pocket. He reached in, feeling something uneven, and pulled it out.
A gleam of satisfaction crossed Ning Chen's face.
It was indeed the Black Boar Gu—a first-grade Gu worm capable of permanently enhancing the strength of a wild boar. Rare and incredibly precious, it was a coveted item in the market.
Li Shan, however, had become like a lifeless piece of wood, offering no response, no resistance.
Ning Chen didn't care. He stood up, raised his leg, and stomped down with brutal force.
*Boom!*
Blood and flesh splattered. Brains burst.
Li Shan's life ended miserably and without dignity.
Ning Chen glanced at the Black Bohr Gu in his hand, the faint trace of a smile curling at his lips.
That night, he couldn't sleep—but not because of regret.