Chen Jichuan silently removed his sand clothes and sandbags, hiding in the shadows, as he looked towards the distant forest.
He saw seven or eight people gathered together, heading north.
Among them were two individuals, their necks bound with wooden collars, hands shackled, and feet chained.
One was tall, the other small.
The tall one appeared to be around thirty years old, a sturdy man. Yet now, he limped on one leg, his body disheveled and beaten, clearly having endured severe torment.
The small one was only eight or nine.
Timid and fearful.
His hair disheveled and wild.
A small hand tightly clutching the corner of the bigger man's clothing, lips pale.
Name: Sheng Dayang
Age: 32
Level: 3
Talent: Blood Burning (3)
...
Name: Sheng Xiaotian
Age: 9
Level: 1
Talent: Blood Burning (1)
"They're Abnormal People."
Chen Jichuan's heart stirred.
In the past month, he had been in Haitang Village, at Zhao Family Village seven to eight miles away, and in Yangshuo County town over ten miles out, where he'd encountered plenty of people.
But not a single Abnormal Person.
It was clear how rare they were.
Unexpectedly.
In this remote mountain forest, he came across not one but two.
"Sheng Dayang."
"Sheng Xiaotian."
"Father and son?"
Chen Jichuan guessed in his heart and then turned his gaze to the six individuals escorting Sheng Dayang. Each held a steel knife or iron sword, dressed in blue uniforms embroidered with birds.
Chen Jichuan recalled what he'd heard in Yangshuo County.
Then, using Insight Skill, he discerned the six individuals' strength—
One at Level 4.
Five at Level 3.
Those wielding knives practiced "Divine Pouncing Saber," while those with swords practiced "Ghost Fall Sword."
"These are Lishui Gang's martial arts."
"The birds?"
"The eagles?"
"Lishui Gang's Feiying Hall?!"
Chen Jichuan recognized their origin.
The Lishui Gang comprised three halls and fourteen divisions, with the 'Fourteen Divisions' originally overseeing the ten county docks of Shi'an County.
Later, when the Lishui Gang revolted, they divided Shi'an County into fourteen areas. Each division managed its territory independently, including all civil and military affairs.
This decentralization led to chaos.
Taking advantage of the situation, the Golden Sun Sect and Wusheng Sect emerged, seizing cities and castles, forcibly wresting six counties from the Lishui Gang. Just half a month ago, Jianling County fell to the Golden Sun Sect as well, leaving the Lishui Gang with only three counties.
The power of the Fourteen Divisions diminished greatly, while the three halls directly under the Lishui Gang became overwhelmingly powerful.
The Feiying Hall, specifically tasked with oversight and enforcement, was one of those three halls.
"Lishui Gang."
"Feiying Hall."
Chen Jichuan stared at the group, covertly using Source Power to recover his strength.
He surveyed the surroundings and realized they were already seventy to eighty miles east of Haitang Mountain, far beyond Yangshuo County and now within Yongfu County's territory. If they traveled further east, they'd even leave Yongfu's borders and enter neighboring Linhe County.
Practicing Light Movement techniques such as "Land Flying Skill" required avoiding well-trodden paths to prevent repetition and improve training results.
Thus, Chen Jichuan constantly chose different routes, running dozens of miles out and back.
"Seventy to eighty miles."
"Far enough."
Chen Jichuan calculated in his mind.
For now, he had taken refuge in Yangshuo County, using the Lishui Gang as cover to elude the Wusheng Sect's pursuit.
The world was vast; even in the relatively small Shi'an County, there were ten counties and nearly a million people.
Within such a sprawling territory.
Finding Chen Jichuan and Chen Shaohu was like searching for a needle in a haystack—moreover, in the waters of an enemy nation, an almost unimaginable difficulty.
Over the past month.
Chen Jichuan and Chen Shaohu had lived peacefully without encountering any pursuers.
If they sought to merely survive.
This could continue.
But the brothers bore deep hatred for both the Lishui Gang and the Wusheng Sect.
The former had ruined their family, responsible for the deaths of their father, brothers, uncles—all tortured or worn down in the Black Prison. The latter had enslaved Chen Jichuan and Chen Shaohu for four years, deceitfully luring them with false promises before eventually attempting to kill them.
Chen Jichuan was not a forgiving person.
And Chen Shaohu was even more vengeful by nature.
They were determined to get revenge.
However, whether it was the repeatedly defeated but resilient Lishui Gang or the ever-victorious Wusheng Sect, both were powerful with vast resources. For Chen Jichuan and Chen Shaohu, shaking them was no simple task.
Not to mention.
Chen Jichuan coveted the Spirit Stones in the Black Prison.
To overthrow the Lishui Gang and Wusheng Sect, to seize the Black Prison and claim the Spirit Stones, the two brothers alone were far from sufficient.
And right now.
There were two potential 'allies' right in front of him!
...
Sheng Dayang limped along, filled with both hatred and regret.
He regretted letting his guard down, failing to notice that his son had also awakened "Immortal Technique," which led to its exposure.
And he hated the murderous Lishui Gang thugs who stormed into his home, abducted him and his son, tortured them, and frightened his elderly mother to death.
Now, they were even using his son to threaten him, forcing him to reveal the location of the "Immortal Jujube Tree."
In front of him, one man carried a steel knife in one hand and a cloth bag in the other. The bag weighed four or five pounds and contained "Immortal Jujubes" known to "extend life."
But.
Now they were all in the hands of these villains.
Sheng Dayang gritted his teeth so hard it felt like they might break, wishing he could unleash his "Immortal Technique" right then and there to burn these people to ashes.
But he couldn't.
He lowered his head.
Looking at his son Sheng Xiaotian, who tightly clutched his clothing. Around them, the Lishui Gang's experts glared intently, holding weapons. If he dared to resist, they'd cut him down with knives and stab him with swords in an instant.
Not only him, but his son would also die.
"What are you staring at?!"
"Behave yourself."
"If you want your son dead, go ahead and try something!"
Zheng Biao waved his steel knife, barking at Sheng Dayang, scaring Sheng Xiaotian so much he shuddered.
"I wouldn't dare."
"I wouldn't dare."
Sheng Dayang hastily showed a fawning smile, his face stiff with humiliation.
"Still not convinced, huh?"
Zheng Biao, noticing Sheng Dayang's forced smile, grew infuriated, raising the flat of his blade to smash it against Sheng Dayang's injured leg.
Hiss!
Sheng Dayang stumbled to the ground, pain scraping through him as hatred boiled in his heart.
"Get up!"
"Stop dawdling!"
Zheng Biao barked again.
He was well-practiced at dealing with people like Sheng Dayang.
They were nobodies who suddenly gained "abnormal skills" and immediately believed themselves to be extraordinary, their arrogance shooting to the heavens.
To handle such people.
One needed to grab their lifeblood.
Then cruelly torment and humiliate them, breaking their spirit and backbone. Only then would they become docile, easily controlled, and never dare to rebel again.
"Father."
Sheng Xiaotian struggled to help his father up, his timid face raised, glaring at Zheng Biao with fear and hatred.
"Heh!"
"This brat has more spine than his dad."
Zheng Biao chuckled, raising a hand to slap Sheng Xiaotian across the face, sending the nine-year-old spinning on the spot, stars exploding in his vision as he fell to the ground.
The other five members of Feiying Hall watched with grins as Zheng Biao disciplined the father and son.
The more submissive the two became.
The safer the group's journey.
"I won't fight back."
"I won't fight back."
After a round of punches, kicks, threats, and intimidation, Sheng Dayang held Sheng Xiaotian, repeatedly pleading for mercy. Only then did Zheng Biao relent.
The group continued their journey.
Sheng Xiaotian's small face was swollen and burning with pain. The shackles on his feet clanked as he walked, heavy and uncomfortable, grinding his ankles raw and leaving him in intense pain.
He could only secretly use his "Immortal Technique" to warm the blood flowing within his body, which made it a bit more tolerable.
His small eyes furtively stared at Zheng Biao walking ahead to the side.
In his mind, he wished fervently that a large stone would fall from the sky and crush this cruel man to death.
But he knew.
"Stones don't fall from the sky."
Sheng Xiaotian felt a twinge of despair.
Then he thought: when he grew up, he'd definitely fight back, avenge his father, and seek justice for his grandmother.
These thoughts churned in his mind.
But as he thought of his grandmother again.
"Grandma is dead."
"It's all their fault."
Fire simmered in Sheng Xiaotian's heart, circling around until his thoughts returned to wishing for a falling stone to crush this man to death.
Because he couldn't wait to grow up.
A stone.
To crush him.
The thought echoed in his mind over and over.
And at that very moment—