Cultivating in a Bizarre World

The old wolf struggled up the mountain ridge, its claws worn down and bleeding.

It couldn’t help but pant for breath, its gait severely contorted. Patches of its fur continuously sloughed off, revealing large, bloody swaths of flesh.

It looked as if it could breathe its last at any moment.

The old wolf forced itself onward, deeper into Camel Peak Mountain. Its cloudy eyes could barely make out the path, but it had likely lost even its most basic consciousness.

When it finally stopped, its path was blocked by a dense wall of vines.

THUD.

The old wolf collapsed weakly to the ground. Only the rise and fall of its abdomen faintly showed it was not yet completely dead.

Just then, the fur on its belly began to split open in a small seam, like a clam opening its shell.

A withered head emerged from the opening. With no visible flesh beneath its skin, it looked like a living skeleton.

Who would have thought that an old, living man was hidden inside the wolf’s belly?

The old man then slowly moved out into the open, revealing himself to be a human torso—a man with no arms or legs.

"Ghost Emissary... Ghost Emissary... Ghost Emissary..."

The old man’s expression was grim, but his eyes held a hint of irrepressible excitement, lending an unnatural flush to his ashen complexion.

He lowered his head and began to greedily tear at and devour the old wolf’s flesh and blood.

His limbs gradually grew back, but wrinkles like deep gullies covered his entire body, and his breathing was so faint it seemed ready to stop at any moment.

A moment later, only the wolf’s skeleton remained.

’Fifteen days of Lifespan left...’

The old man stood up. After wiping the blood and flesh from the corner of his mouth, he traced a barely visible line across his own forehead with a finger.

He grabbed the wound and pulled hard, trying to rip his own skin clean off.

What was most horrifying was that the skin squirmed as if it were alive, trying to reattach itself to the flesh-and-bone frame beneath.

The old man’s face was contorted in a ferocious snarl. He knew his opportunity was fleeting, so he could only pull harder, causing the skin to struggle violently.

Just as the skin was about to be torn off, the sound of something slicing through the air rang out.

SWOOSH! SWOOSH! SWOOSH!

Several throwing knives embedded themselves in a distant tree trunk.

Although they were a good ten-plus meters away, the naturally cautious old man still stopped what he was doing. The skin fused back with his body, not even leaving the slightest scar.

The old man’s voice was grim. "Who’s there?"

"I am Ren Qing. This is the second time we’ve met."

Ren Qing stepped out slowly. He appeared calm on the surface, but his muscles were taut, and his right hand never loosened its grip on his blade’s hilt.

A flicker of surprise crossed Song Rong’s eyes. He had clearly recognized the newcomer; after all, not many Government Constables came to the Martial Arts Tower to borrow the Grass Hall Travelogue.

Ren Qing kept his Double Pupils locked firmly on Song Rong. Even though Song Rong no longer had his Hundred Eyes and his other two Magic Techniques posed no threat, Ren Qing still maintained a distance of over twenty meters between them.

Song Rong asked in a mild tone, "Those eyes of yours are rather interesting. Is that the No-Eyes Technique?"

SHING!

Ren Qing didn’t reply. The Great Miao Blade in his hand slid half a finger’s width from its sheath.

Song Rong suddenly seemed in no hurry. As if instructing a junior, he explained, "I always felt the No-Eyes Technique had a third Mutated path. I never expected to see it in you."

He let out a morbid laugh. "If I hadn’t stripped away my Hundred Eyes, I would certainly be interested in those eyes of yours."

"Does it matter?"

Ren Qing felt a chill run down his spine, but he quickly regained his composure.

"You’re right, it doesn’t matter."

Song Rong smiled and took a tentative step back. Ren Qing immediately closed the distance.

"Since you’re not in a hurry to attack, you must want to ask me something, right?"

"Are there any Dharma Gates for Life Extension in this world?"

"Heh, of course there are. But they all come at a price. Eating human eyes raw is just one of the most common methods. Some are so vile even I can’t bear to look."

Song Rong slowly approached Ren Qing, his tone strange. "The Forbidden Guards will be here in about a hundred breaths. Don’t you want to know..."

When only half a meter separated them, his right arm suddenly detached at the shoulder and shot out, moving too fast for the naked eye to see.

Even in mid-air, the arm could still move. The traces of a Magic Technique were visible on its fingernails, which could probably slice through Ren Qing’s flesh with ease.

Originally, Song Rong had planned to strip off his Skin Peeler Mysterious Object to form a forbidden area and break the Forbidden Guards’ Magic Technique seal.

Now, it seemed if he could use this opportunity to kill Ren Qing, he could conserve some energy for entering the Disaster Mitigation Forbidden Area.

But how could Ren Qing let him have his way?

With his Double Pupils, Ren Qing easily tracked the arm’s trajectory. As he closed his eyes, it was as if he were back in the mine, swinging his blade a hundred times.

The mountain wind blew across his face. He could feel wisps of air currents gathering and dispersing.

SHIIING!!

The blade scraped against its sheath, creating a piercing sound, as if the Great Miao Blade was eager to show its edge.

Unsheathed.

Ren Qing vanished from his spot.

To Song Rong’s utter disbelief, Ren Qing appeared within half a meter of him. The arm, infused with two Magic Techniques, had been split in two.

The cut was perfectly smooth, even through the bone.

"I’ll pass on eating raw human eyes. The upper limit for Life Extension clearly isn’t very high."

Ren Qing knew the Forbidden Guards within Camel Peak Mountain were constantly searching for Song Rong. If he couldn’t get the answers he wanted soon, he would have to give up.

"How interesting."

Song Rong snapped back to his senses and waved his left hand.

The flesh of his arm bloomed like the pistil of a flower, in the blink of an eye forming a malformed beast’s head that bared its fangs at Ren Qing.

This was the ability of the Skin Peeler—the power to control one’s own flesh and blood. It was exceptionally bizarre.

Ren Qing showed no sign of panic. With a slight lift of his Great Miao Blade, he blocked the beast head’s bite.

He knew that in his scheme to enter the Disaster Mitigation Forbidden Area, Song Rong had resorted to any means necessary, pushing his body to the brink of death.

He’d plotted in advance, controlling a wild wolf to attack a Hunter. Then he had forcibly implanted his arm onto the Hunter, along with his stripped-away Hundred Eyes Mysterious Object.

This was also why Ren Qing’s Information Flow had failed; the Hunter’s limbs and torso had become separate, independent entities.

Ren Qing even suspected that the forbidden area in the Prison back then was also Song Rong’s doing, a means to experiment with how to better utilize Mysterious Objects.

"If you won’t talk, then fine."

His legs underwent a Werewolf Transformation, and he struck again with his blade at a speed Song Rong couldn’t react to.

The flesh-and-blood beast head was instantly severed.

Song Rong’s expression became playful, and a smile even lifted the corners of his mouth.

The blade’s edge was a hair’s breadth from his neck.

Song Rong said with a smile, "So, Ren Qing, you and I are the same kind of person."

"You also have a deep obsession with Lifespan, with longevity. But your luck is better than mine. At least your path of Cultivation hasn’t been severed by a Mysterious Object."

His gaze turned deep and empty as he looked toward the sky, muttering to himself, "My luck is just too poor. There’s no way I can make it to the end. I’ll either die in the Disaster Mitigation Forbidden Area or die during the process of ascension."

Ren Qing didn’t sigh with pity, but he did feel a slight sense of lament.

In a normal Cultivation world, a ruthless man like Song Rong could have achieved unimaginable success. But in this particular world, the bizarre and mysterious reign supreme.

Just staying alive was hard enough.

Song Rong became fanatical. As if speaking of a pilgrimage, he said, "Ren Qing, the true Longevity Technique is in the Far North..."