Chapter Sixty-Seven: Slay Without Mercy

Chapter Sixty-Seven: Slay Without Mercy

A faint shadow drifted out from Song Nianqiang’s body. With his current soul power, he could easily achieve this, but once the soul split from his body, Song Nianqiang was noticeably weakened.

“Where do you think you’re running now?!” A pale golden blade appeared in the hand of his soul form. The severed head was truly terrified—he had never imagined that the person before him was so powerful, capable even of soul bifurcation. Gritting his teeth, the head made a decision.

To compete in speed with a soul form was pure suicide; the soul could shift positions at will, appearing directly before you in an instant. Now the head had no choice but to choose: either fight Song Nianqiang’s soul, or be slain by the Skinning Ghost.

The choice was obvious. Dying at the hands of the Skinning Ghost was out of the question; thus, he charged at the soul form. Perhaps he had just advanced to the second tier of ghosts and hadn’t developed any special abilities yet, relying purely on instinct as he lunged to bite Song Nianqiang.

“Don’t blame me!” Song Nianqiang’s soul form laughed, a laugh filled with genuine amusement. Though his soul was faint and far from strong enough to handle high-level Yin Soldiers, it was more than sufficient for this suicidal head.

With a flash of golden light, Song Nianqiang’s golden blade sliced into the head, but the head clamped down hard, trapping the blade. At that moment, the head roared at the pile of rotten flesh that had collapsed nearby, “Get up! Help me kill him!”

Hearing the shout, Song Nianqiang frowned, sensing a wave of foreboding. Could it be that the pile of rotten flesh wasn’t dead yet?

Sure enough, as Song Nianqiang looked over, the rotten flesh was already standing. A large hole gaped in its belly, and the head that Song Nianqiang had smashed into its abdomen now protruded from there. The head was devouring a chunk of its own belly meat with relish, as if it simply couldn’t get enough.

“Goddamn it! What a freak!”

Even Song Nianqiang couldn’t help but shiver. Now that his combat strength was diminished by splitting his soul, he wasn’t sure if he could handle that mass of rotten flesh. What’s more, its eyes had changed, glowing with eerie green light, and its arms were now covered in scales.

There was no time for words. Song Nianqiang charged directly at the rotten flesh, his fists whistling through the air and slamming into its chest. Yet the thing didn’t react at all. It simply raised a massive scaled fist and struck back. Song Nianqiang was sent flying by the blow.

Glancing at his left shoulder, he saw a large bruise, pain radiating from the spot. Cursing, he flipped up from the ground. Meanwhile, his soul form was being entangled by the head, which attacked with desperate abandon, determined to drag Song Nianqiang’s soul to the grave. The soul form, forced to defend, was momentarily stifled.

Gritting his teeth, Song Nianqiang shed all contempt for the mass of flesh. He advanced step by step, halting two meters away, while the rotten flesh stood rooted, fixing him with a deathly stare. Strange guttural sounds oozed from its mouth, as if mocking him.

Cautiously, Song Nianqiang crept a meter closer. Now only a meter separated them. They faced off for a moment before Song Nianqiang suddenly lashed out, kicking at the creature’s knee. With a sharp crack, the knee snapped, but the thing remained upright. Song Nianqiang realized belatedly that dealing with this abomination required abandoning all normal logic.

But by the time this realization struck, it was too late. The scaly fist came crashing down from above. Acting on pure reflex, Song Nianqiang dodged backward, barely avoiding the blow. But he forgot: the monster had two fists. With a sudden thud, the other struck him square in the chest.

Hitting the ground, Song Nianqiang coughed up blood—this punch was no small thing. “Damn your grandmother’s legs!” This time, he was truly enraged. He charged again. When just two meters away, he suddenly leapt, aiming a powerful kick at the head embedded in the creature’s belly. But what awaited him was a gaping maw, now several times larger.

“Shit—” If his foot landed in that mouth, he’d lose it for sure. Twisting midair, he managed to avoid the jaws but tore off large chunks of rotten flesh instead. Dissatisfied with the result, he hit the ground and rolled away from its range.

But then Song Nianqiang noticed something curious: from the start, he’d been the one attacking, while the mass of flesh hadn’t moved an inch. A thought struck him: “Is it unable to move?”

To test the theory, Song Nianqiang grabbed a red string from the ground and dashed toward the head, which was still furiously attacking his soul form, oblivious to Song Nianqiang’s approach from behind. Song Nianqiang moved sideways, keeping an eye on the rotten flesh for any reaction.

Even after he reached the head, the rotten flesh didn’t so much as twitch. Relieved, Song Nianqiang whipped the red string around the head, catching it off guard.

A hiss of white smoke rose from the head as the soul form’s golden blade struck, slicing it cleanly in two with a flash of gold. The head’s eyes widened in disbelief at Song Nianqiang, before it dissolved into curling smoke and vanished.

With the head dealt with, Song Nianqiang allowed himself a smile of relief and quickly withdrew his soul form. Just then, a rhythmic pounding came from behind him—thud, thud, thud, thud.

He whirled around and nearly cursed aloud. The heap of rotten flesh had grown, now nearly three meters tall, and could move. The pounding was the sound of its massive footsteps.

“Just my rotten luck!”

Song Nianqiang was thoroughly frustrated. At that moment, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Without checking, he knew it was a message from Fatty, probably signaling that Fatty was about to be overwhelmed. He had to deal with this giant heap of flesh and get back.

But Song Nianqiang was at a loss. With no weapons on hand, how was he supposed to kill it? He did have a Solar Talisman left, but it likely wasn’t enough to destroy such a huge monster.

Glancing around, an idea struck him. He wasn’t sure if these conjured things were identical to the real world, but he quickly ran to the gas station beside the parking lot. Checking the pumps, he confirmed there was real gasoline. Taking advantage of the monster’s slow approach, he doused the entire station—and several nearby cars—with fuel.

Once satisfied, Song Nianqiang found a small bucket. He had no intention of lighting the station from up close; otherwise, he’d burn before the monster died. He needed to find a safer distance.

But the parking lot was small, and the gas station sat dead center. After a quick scan, he chose a spot in one corner, grabbed the bucket, and hurried over.

With everything ready, one task remained: lure the monster to the gas station. Climbing onto a car, Song Nianqiang shouted at the beast, “Come on! I’ll take care of you!”

The monster lumbered with huge steps, moving slowly. At last, when it was barely three meters away, it suddenly leapt into the air, crashing down where Song Nianqiang stood.

“Damn it!” He darted aside. With a thunderous crash, the car he’d been standing on was destroyed. The monster grabbed another car and hurled it at him. Unfortunately, Song Nianqiang was in a dead end with nowhere to dodge.

“If I die, so be it!” He hurled the Solar Talisman as hard as he could. A wave of searing heat surged toward him.