Chapter 25: The Fifth Layer of the Mark

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“He is Wen Zheng. He looks a bit older, but in fact, he’s just a year older than me. I only got to know him because he’s friends with Su Ying. He likes me, but I’ve always seen him as a brother, so… could you help me make things clear to him?” Su Nanzhou whispered into Mo Jiang’s ear, “There’s nothing between us, and nothing has ever happened.”

After hearing this, Mo Jiang glanced at Su Nanzhou. Having lived two lives and experienced life and death, he could see much more than most. The relationship between Su Nanzhou and Wen Zheng was far from as simple as she claimed.

Still, Zhou Yanxin was right about one thing: Su Nanzhou was not simple—she was far more complex than she appeared. Those final words of hers could almost be considered a guarantee.

This girl was truly calculating.

However, Mo Jiang would not be bothered by this. He was not the type to nitpick or demand absolute perfection in everything. Yet, the budding affection he had felt for Su Nanzhou vanished in an instant, leaving behind only a sense of appreciation.

She was a clever girl—well-suited to be the wife of the “heir of the Mo family.”

“There’s no need to say anything. I think he already understands,” Mo Jiang replied quietly, not bothering to look at Wen Zheng. With these words, he offered Su Nanzhou a promise. Relief was plain to see in her beautiful, limpid eyes.

By making things clear now, she protected her innocence. If it were left for later, things would become uncertain.

The grilled fish meal was an enjoyable one—at least on the surface. With Mo Jiang’s status, no one dared cross him.

No one among the people, at least—other things were another matter.

Mo Jiang drank too much and needed to use the restroom. As he walked down the corridor, his vision suddenly blurred.

At that moment, he heard footsteps ahead—the rapid click of high heels—swiftly approaching, then colliding with him.

He staggered backward in alarm, only to see a woman lying on the ground. Her head had been severed from her neck, rolling far away. Her eyes were wide open, filled with terror and disbelief, as if she could not comprehend what she had seen in her last moments.

A gush.

Blood spurted from the woman’s neck like water from a faucet.

Mo Jiang froze, his urge to relieve himself gone in an instant. He had no idea what had just happened, but he quickly pulled out his phone and dialed the police.

The police arrived swiftly. After questioning Mo Jiang and reviewing the restaurant’s surveillance footage, they let him go. Some of the other diners, however, were kept behind and asked to sign confidentiality agreements.

Not long after returning home, Mo Jiang learned from Wen Lanjing what had killed the woman.

It was an Abnormal.

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Among the Slaying Immortals Abnormals, there was a radical who attempted to challenge the government of the Central Land—someone trying to imitate foreign countries by staging a terror attack to cause chaos.

That very night, before midnight, the Slaying Immortals Abnormal was captured. He was just a teenager, a mixed-blood youth.

And before midnight struck, that Abnormal was killed—executed on the spot after it was confirmed he had committed the murder.

No one knew why this Abnormal, whose name remained unknown, would harbor such a death wish. Mo Jiang, for his part, was deeply shaken.

The methods of the Slaying Immortals Abnormal were too strange and terrifying—like manipulating a flying sword, he had simply decapitated the woman. If she hadn’t collided with Mo Jiang at that very moment, it would almost certainly have been Mo Jiang who died.

Interrogation revealed that the Abnormal’s original target had, in fact, been Mo Jiang.

This was a premeditated murder—though an accident had occurred at the last moment.

Mo Jiang had no idea why he had become the target of that Abnormal.

“My strength is still too weak.” Filled with fear and anger, Mo Jiang threw himself into his martial training with renewed fervor. But mastery of the martial arts could not be achieved overnight; it required time, gradual accumulation, and careful conditioning of the body.

After a week of hard work with little progress, Mo Jiang turned his attention to the Wish Fruit. He had wanted to use it for some time, but the level-two Wish Fruit made him hesitate.

Now, he no longer cared. He swallowed a level-two Wish Fruit, feeling sick, but managed to get it down with water.

He began to make his wish.

He wished for a great improvement in his boxing skills and a substantial boost to his physical abilities.

The effect of the level-two Wish Fruit was indeed far superior to the level-one. The first part of his wish was realized almost as soon as he finished it.

Previously, he had only known the forms of the Konglong Fist, but now, in an instant, he grasped the essence of the technique. He struck the wooden post with flawless execution of the ultimate move.

There was a loud crack as his fist struck the wood, causing the post to sway side to side.

His palm recoiled from the impact, and he saw a layer of red on his fist, but felt no pain. Since boxing was largely about physical conditioning, Mo Jiang could clearly sense that his body had improved significantly with that one punch.

He tested himself with the instrument and found that his strength frequency had risen to 27!

“That much of a leap?”

Mo Jiang could hardly believe it—an increase of 12 frequencies. He had only been around 15 before.

“Is the Konglong Fist really so miraculous?” he wondered, but then realized that if the Konglong Fist were truly so magical, Yu Wenlong would never have taught it so casually.

“It’s not the Konglong Fist, then…” Mo Jiang suddenly thought of the Wish Fruit, and images of addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division flashed through his mind.

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“If a level-one Wish Fruit can raise your frequency by 6, then a level-two raising it by 12 makes perfect sense,” Mo Jiang murmured. He tilted his head, then took out another level-two Wish Fruit.

“I’ll just try it and see.”

Once again, he swallowed it with difficulty, then made the same wish as before. But this time, it seemed to fail—the Konglong Fist did not change.

He pulled out the instrument to test his strength frequency.

“Thirty-nine! So it’s true…”

Mo Jiang could not contain his joy. He hadn’t expected the Wish Fruit to have such potential. Now that he possessed the Boundary Gate, Wish Fruits were hard to come by, but not impossible to obtain in quantity.

“Maybe I can push my strength up to the fifth-level standard!”

He was excited, but just then, a sudden chill swept over him, leaving him inexplicably uneasy.

A cold wind blew.

The chill was bone-deep.

Yet he was inside the martial arts hall, whose ventilation system was specially designed—not prone to draughts, but always keeping the air fresh and circulating.

Mo Jiang suddenly felt dizzy. His vision filled with colors, but they were chaotic, as if a child had scribbled across the world—a complete jumble.

Soon, though, the colors settled into normalcy.

Mo Jiang was stunned.

He found himself no longer in the martial arts hall, but standing on an ancient, picturesque street. There were commoners in plain garb, and many elegantly dressed passersby.

What confused Mo Jiang most was that each of these people had words above their heads.

For example, the woman standing before him had the words—

LV8: First Dream, Graceful Smile.