Chapter 067: "Da Xiong, What's Wrong With You?"

When it came to the "Sword Immortal of Soaring Splendor," the Shi family only dared to skirt the line. But with Yang Jian, they had no such reservations.

Understandably so.

In everyone's eyes, Yang Jian was just a lucky fellow who'd stepped in something fortuitous. If he hadn't been picked by the "Sword Immortal of Soaring Splendor" in a lottery, hardly anyone would know his name, let alone care about him.

Perhaps, in the Shi family's view, Yang Jian should feel honored to be counted among their schemes.

A martial family with a century's legacy, weathering countless storms without falling—Shi family had every reason to be proud.

The Black Tiger Gang and the Flying Cloud Sect, though also major forces in the western district of Qinghe City, were at least two rungs below the Shi family. The first two were mere gangs, surviving on the gray and black markets. The Shi family, however, dined at every table—black, gray, white, even red.

Family scions were scattered throughout every industry and field in Qinghe City. Here, only the Li family, the city's foremost clan, stood above them.

For a family of such martial prowess, what could Su Jingxing—a mere crematorium corpse handler—do after being used? There was simply no way to get even with them...

Well, not openly at least. Online, there was still a chance.

After filling his stomach, Su Jingxing turned on his computer and, with a flurry of keystrokes, hacked into a Shi family company system, scrambling all their data and deleting some files in passing.

The loss caused wasn’t great—just over a billion.

For the Shi family, such an amount was a mere drop in the ocean.

But Su Jingxing hadn’t intended to strike back online anyway. In a martial family, true power lay with the mighty martial artists—not with money, women, appearance, or assets.

His intrusion was merely to vent his annoyance.

Once his anger subsided, he shut off the computer and went offline for good.

All else was illusory; only personal strength truly mattered.

To advance to the sixth rank, he needed a unique internal discipline.

Such techniques were nearly nonexistent on the open market.

Su Jingxing planned to try his luck at the black market. Perhaps he’d find something there.

Of course, buying martial arts on the black market required money.

Any internal discipline capable of cultivating true qi would obviously be priced exorbitantly.

His lottery’s third prize, just over a million, was far from enough.

Thinking it over, Su Jingxing regretted not hacking the lottery center earlier. Had he done so and turned his third prize into a first, it might have sufficed.

This time, the first prize was over ten million Dayu coins.

A miscalculation!

He smacked his forehead, took a deep breath, and composed himself.

No matter—if he missed this chance, he could always hack it next month.

But before that, he had to confirm whether the black market even offered such high-level internal disciplines.

With that in mind, Su Jingxing changed into his gear and headed straight for the black market.

The market ran all night long. When he arrived, the streets were still bustling.

As was his habit, he strolled the streets once before entering a shop specializing in martial arts techniques.

After some inquiries, he learned there were indeed internal disciplines capable of cultivating true qi!

Surprisingly, the price was only ten million Dayu coins.

Ten million for a true qi internal discipline was, in fact, a bargain—this was the foundation for becoming a sixth-rank martial artist.

For a sixth-rank master, making a hundred million a year was child’s play.

A discipline for ten million was a steal.

The trouble was, these arts came with great risks.

First, they had all leaked from major powers. Once discovered practicing stolen arts, a manhunt would follow immediately.

Second, the black market’s internal disciplines were incomplete. At best, you got the first scroll or the first layer.

If you practiced these without follow-up methods, forget breakthroughs—even your strength would be affected.

After all, internal disciplines for true qi were extremely precise; switching midway was disastrous—like starting all over again.

Weighing all these factors, Su Jingxing decisively abandoned the idea of buying true qi internal disciplines from the black market.

Incomplete arts weren’t worth the trouble; he might as well pin his hopes on the "Nine Steps to Heaven."

Of the Wei family’s three secret arts, "Seven Steps Long Fist" was a boxing art, "Eight Steps Soaring Dragon" a lightness technique, and the last, "Nine Steps to Heaven," was very likely an internal discipline.

And more than that—a true qi internal discipline.

If it had only cultivated inner strength, the Wei ancestor wouldn’t have hidden it away so carefully.

Thus, Su Jingxing held high hopes for the "Nine Steps to Heaven."

Once vengeance was served, he’d set off in search of its hiding place!

...

Leaving the black market, Su Jingxing returned to his cottage at the foot of the mountain and, for once, slept soundly.

The next day, he went about his work as usual.

After his shift, he returned to his mountain cottage to clean up and disguised himself as Yang Jian, heading to the west district lottery branch to claim his prize.

A third prize on Earth Star was quite different from one on Earth.

After taxes, there was still over a million Dayu coins.

For Su Jingxing, this amount would cover his living expenses for more than a decade.

The claiming process went smoothly—few chased after third prize winners.

He simply asked the lottery staff to transfer the money to an anonymous account.

He entered empty-handed and left the same way.

Leaving the lottery center, he saw no one tailing him.

On Earth Star, and in the Dayu nation, bank robberies were rare, but lottery robberies were common.

Banks were guarded by official martial artists; lottery winners, however, might not be.

For an ordinary person, claiming a prize was a dangerous affair.

Though Su Jingxing wasn’t afraid, he remained vigilant.

Even so—

Whoosh!

As he passed a narrow alley, a sudden gust of wind burst forth.

With it came a hulking shadow, charging straight at him.

Swish! Swish—

Ready for trouble, Su Jingxing dodged in a flash.

Regaining his footing, he turned and narrowed his eyes at the shadow.

It was enormous.

The thing that had burst from the alley was a dog, but one as big as a full-grown ox...

Wait—not quite right.

This was no ordinary dog—it was a beast!

Squinting, Su Jingxing studied the creature: alloy muzzle, thick iron chain around its neck, inky black fur, massive frame, blood-red eyes, and, in each eye, two pupils...

Double pupils? It was a Twin-Pupiled Demon Hound!

He recognized the beast at once—a feral Twin-Pupiled Demon Hound!

"Come back, Da Xiong! Don’t run, Da Xiong!"

As Su Jingxing observed, five people rushed from the alley.

Their leader was a young man, hair disheveled, steps unsteady, face deathly pale, dressed in baggy clothes, the picture of despair.

Staggering over, he yelled and hurried to the Demon Hound’s side.

Under Su Jingxing's curious gaze, the man surreptitiously jabbed a needle into the hound’s haunch.

Immediately, Su Jingxing heard the Demon Hound’s heartbeat slow. The forcibly tamed beast, alloy muzzle tight around its jaws, let out a whimper, collapsed to the ground, mouth agape, panting hard, white froth gathering at the corners.

"Da Xiong, what’s wrong?" the young man cried out in panic, his face stricken with fear. "Da Xiong, don’t scare me! What’s happening to you?"

Su Jingxing simply shrugged.

Not interested in watching further, he turned to leave.

"Stop right there!"