Chapter 85: The Mad Chicken Slayer

In an instant, a layer of black light enveloped my hand, making it look like a claw. But as the black light began to solidify, the spiritual power in my dantian was drained in a flash, and the black glow dissipated almost immediately after. My face turned ashen, and I nearly collapsed to the ground.

My legs felt weak, as though I'd just fought seven or eight battles in a single night.

Something was off. When I killed the spider-faced Nether Beast before, I had felt some reaction, but it didn’t drain me dry like this.

I quickly took out a Nether Crystal to restore my spiritual power. That’s when I realized, counting the rewards from the Nether Dragon Hall and the fees I’d earned in the realm of the dead, I should have had twenty-eight Nether Crystals. Now, only eight remained—the other twenty had turned to dust.

Could it be that the energy drawn earlier came from those twenty crystals? Damn, that's expensive! One Nether Crystal in Division Nine can be exchanged for ten thousand contribution points—twenty crystals, that's two hundred thousand points. This single attack cost me two hundred thousand contribution points...

Just thinking about it made my heart ache.

"Hey, brother, come get your share." At that moment, a young man with red hair waved me over.

I walked up and asked, "What share?"

"The rewards, of course. Half of the spoils here are handed in, the other half divided among us. You killed that spider-faced Nether Beast, so you can exchange up to fifty thousand contribution points for equipment and elixirs," the red-haired youth said.

"Fifty thousand?" I was a bit stunned. Even though my last strike had burned through two hundred thousand contribution points, since I’d taken on Division Nine’s tasks, one or two thousand was considered a lot.

"Surprised? It’s what we deserve," he replied.

This Nether Rift outpost had a dedicated exchange for equipment and elixirs, and I wasn’t about to be shy. What I needed most was defense—the defensive robe I’d exchanged for before had already been ruined, but it had saved my life. In such a dangerous place as the Nether Rift, the robe worth eight hundred contribution points was clearly too low-grade.

"I want the most expensive defensive robe I can exchange for," I said to the old man at the exchange point.

He glanced at me and laughed, "I have one worth forty-five thousand contribution points, but for a fourth-level Yin-Yang Master like you, it's useless. You can't activate it, and it weighs twelve hundred pounds. Only someone at least eighth-level could wear it."

I gaped—twelve hundred pounds? That seemed excessive.

"Why so surprised? There’s a scale over there, you can check your own weight," the old man said.

I hurried over, stood on the scale, and my eyes widened.

"Four hundred and fifty pounds!" I remembered last year I weighed one hundred fifty. Now, I was three hundred pounds heavier, yet I didn’t feel any different, nor had my build changed.

"You’re a combat-type Yin-Yang Master. Your cultivation is fierce and powerful. Each breakthrough brings drastic changes—especially moving from basic to intermediate. Your bone density, muscle density, even blood density are several times what they were. When you reach advanced level, you’ll weigh at least a thousand pounds," the old man explained.

"Wouldn’t that spell disaster in bed?" I muttered.

"Haha, young man, you need to be moderate... When you reach that level, your body adjusts instinctively. No need to worry," he laughed.

"Then pick one I can actually use," I said.

The old man rummaged inside, emerging with a wooden box. He opened it to reveal a remarkable-looking defensive robe.

"This one: fifteen thousand contribution points. The strongest defensive robe for a fourth-level Yin-Yang Master. Unless you encounter a high-level one, even a sixth-level attacker won’t be able to break through after ten hits," he said.

"Good, I’ll take it." I felt its energy and was satisfied.

Afterward, I spent another twenty thousand contribution points on a dozen batches of talismans, especially those for fleeing—Speed Talismans were stocked in abundance.

In the end, I reconsidered swapping my weapon. The Blood Fiend Blade had grown attuned to me after prolonged use. Its spiritual activation rate wasn’t high, but it handled well, though it struggled to keep up with my current level. I’d have to find a way to upgrade it.

The outpost in the Nether Rift didn’t offer this service; only the Division Nine headquarters did.

According to Nangong Haoran, after a major battle, both sides suffered heavy losses and needed time to recover. The outpost had to rebuild the breached defensive lines and reinforce them. The Nether side was the same. Due to certain rules, only weaker Nether slaves and cultivators could breach the obstacles and enter the rift; stronger ones rarely appeared.

So, the Nether side also needed time to replenish its fighting force.

The exit of the Nether Rift was a massive alloy gate. Once opened, a swirling glow appeared. Stepping through it, you’d reemerge deep within a military base.

Nangong Haoran said this base housed several nuclear warheads. If the outpost was breached, these would be detonated. Thermal weapons were useless in the Nether Rift, but aboveground, they still worked. Ordinary heat weapons were too weak against Nether slaves and cultivators; only nuclear bombs, which could instantly alter all energetic properties of the world, posed a mortal threat.

But unless the situation was dire, nukes would never be used—unless someone wanted to destroy the whole world.

Leaving the base, the sunlight was dazzling but reassuring.

Humans aren’t like those evil entities, cursed to never see the sun, always reeking of mold.

I took a military vehicle to Xiliang City Airport, preparing to return to River City.

I hadn’t forgotten the upcoming Yueshi Clan Assembly next month, but it was still early. Besides, with my cultivation and mental state both breaking past bottlenecks, there was no need to remain here for more trials.

The plane took off, shooting into the clouds in a blink. Through the window, I gazed at the lands of Xiliang and muttered, "Qu Yuanshan, you just wait. If I don’t avenge this, I’m not worthy of being called a man."

...

At River City Airport, I walked out wearing a camouflage jacket, sunglasses, and carrying a backpack.

On my way, I drew quite a few glances; some young women even ran up and took selfies with me in the background.

I hadn’t shaved, and after everything I’d been through, my temperament had changed dramatically. That blend of weariness and the confident swagger of a dragon had quite the effect on young women.

Outside the airport, beside a luxury off-road vehicle, a beautiful long-haired girl glanced at me, then looked again in confusion.

"Qin Feng!" Chen Ying’en paused, then confirmed it was me and called out.

"Hey, Captain Chen, here to pick me up? I’m honored," I said, walking over and removing my sunglasses.

"I’m not here to pick you up," Chen Ying’en replied coolly.

Uh... Could she be any more blunt?

I shrugged and smiled, "How about a ride, since we’re headed the same way?"

"No can do. I’m here for the famous Blood Fiend Healer," she said.

I stared at her, then laughed, "Captain Chen, is this your idea of humor?"

"Isn’t it? I thought it was pretty funny," she replied.

"The words are funny, but coming from you, the flavor changes," I said, climbing into the passenger seat.

Chen Ying’en started the car, and it shot off like a rocket.

"You broke through?" she asked.

"Yes," I nodded.

Then silence stretched between us. Chen Ying’en’s cold and proud demeanor hadn’t changed in all this time.

I gazed at the familiar scenery along the river, not inclined to speak either.

Soon, the car pulled into the Third Squad’s headquarters building.

I got out and entered the hall first.

The hall was pitch dark, seemingly empty.

Suddenly, the lights blazed on, and Ye Luo, Zhao Zheng, Ghost, and Niu Dali burst out.

Fireworks sprayed across my face, and Ye Luo handed me a bouquet.

"Brother Qin, welcome back," Ye Luo giggled, her face full of excitement.

I took the flowers, stunned for a long moment.

Their voices softened; they glanced at each other, at a loss.

Then I came to myself, grabbed Ye Luo with one hand and pulled her into a hug.

She squealed with delight, hugging me tight, her laughter infectious.

I hugged Zhao Zheng, Niu Dali, and Ghost in turn.

The reason I’d been so absent-minded was that this scene seemed almost unreal for me.

I’d been through too much lately—schemes, betrayals, pursuits, the struggle at the edge of death—I’d almost forgotten the simple, beautiful feeling of friendship.

One day, the Third Squad would have to enter the Nether Rift.

After experiencing the rift, Division Nine members rarely kept such pure hearts.

"Captain Chen, you’re the last one," I said, holding out my arms to Chen Ying’en after hugging the others.

It was just a joke; with her personality, she wouldn’t pay me any mind.

But unexpectedly, Chen Ying’en stepped forward and gave me a gentle hug, then quickly stepped back.

"Brother Qin, come drink and tell us your Blood Fiend Healer stories!"

"Yeah! You crippled Qu Xiangtian, the genius of the First Arena, a fourth-level Yin-Yang Master. Brother Qin, how did you, as a third-level, manage to cripple him?"

"Hehe, Brother Qin, you don’t even know—you’ve got another nickname in Division Nine. Want to hear it?"

I was curious. Pinching Ye Luo’s baby-soft cheek, I smiled, "Spill it, don’t keep me guessing."

"It’s... Actually, I’m a girl, it’s embarrassing. Ghost, you say it," Ye Luo blushed and nudged Ghost.

"Chicken Crippler Maniac," Ghost said bluntly.

I nearly spat my drink. Damn it, I only crippled Huo Xingyu and Qu Xiangtian!