Chapter 140: A world of Its Own
"Black Qi Return."
Demon Ox shouted once more.
Majestic Dark Energy swirled as his physical body recovered once again, his aura reaching its peak once more.
Armor reforged, scars healed, power fully replenished.
But his base stats remained where they were.
At this moment, his stats would no longer rise; he would only be constantly struck down by Mark, continuously consuming the Dark Energy accumulated in this world over ages.
Demon Ox had gone mad.
He had become reckless, even allowing Mark to strike him down just so he could use Black Qi Return again.
Struck down, he stood up.
Struck down again, he stood up again.
Every time he stood up, a portion of the Dark Energy was consumed.
Every time he stood up, his peak lasted only a brief moment.
Every time he stood up, the dark mist shrouding the heavens thinned by a wisp.
This battle shook the world.
Cities crumbled, and residents fled.
Continents tore apart, and seawater boiled.
The heavens and earth suddenly changed color.
They fought from the Eastern Continent to the Western Continent, and from the South Pole to the Arctic.
Wherever they passed, the earth cracked, the oceans surged backward, and mountain peaks collapsed.
No one knew how long they had been fighting.
Five days.
Ten days.
One month.
Time lost its meaning at this moment.
Mark had never been in such a wonderful state.
An even match, a truly even match.
Crucially, the opponent couldn't be killed; he stood up after being struck down, and grew stronger upon standing—though this'stronger' was merely returning to his peak, each return to the peak was a brand-new challenge.
Smart Atoms operated frantically within Mark's body; they were singing, cheering, and dancing wildly.
So intense.
Too intense.
Although he didn't experience the poignancy of a breakthrough on the brink of death, his physical strength was indeed continuously strengthening.
Though slow, it was constantly improving.
Every punch was a bit heavier than the last, every kick a moment faster, and every dodge a bit more composed.
By all logic, Mark's stamina should have been exhausted.
But with each use of Black Qi Return, the layer of dark mist shrouding the heavens actually gradually thinned.
Sunlight began to peek through the cracks.
At first, it was just a few golden threads, then it became pillars of gold, and finally, sheets of golden light.
That sunlight fell upon Mark.
The solar particles within were captured by him, the temperature absorbed by him, and the energy assimilated by him.
All consumed stamina returned in full.
As long as sunlight bathed his body, Mark would not fall.
Much less run out of strength.
He was the darling of the sun, the Master of light, and the representative of this star in this world.
"Ha... ha..."
Demon Ox panted heavily, his physical body once again on the verge of being torn apart.
He could no longer remember how many times he had used Black Qi Return or how much Dark Energy had been consumed.
Hundreds of times.
Thousands of times.
He couldn't remember clearly.
He only remembered that every time he stood up, he had to face an even heavier punch from that man.
Mark's stamina seemed to have no end; he was even growing stronger and stronger.
The time required to defeat him grew shorter and shorter—from a hundred moves at the start, to fifty, to ten, and now—
In three to five punches, he would have to shout Black Qi Return again.
"Black Qi Return."
He roared out once more, and his physical body recovered again.
He tilted his head back, having become numb even to the pleasant sensation of physical restoration.
But in the next second—
He froze.
His face felt so warm.
He opened his crimson eyes—
A ray of sunlight shone on his face.
It wasn't a golden thread peeking through a crack, nor was it the afterglow leaking from the edge of the clouds—
It was true, complete, unobstructed sunlight.
Sunlight bathed the earth.
He looked up at the sky.
The dark mist that had shrouded the firmament was now completely exhausted.
The Dark Energy that was once thick as ink, obscuring the sun and moon and enveloping the world, had now dissipated entirely.
Only a few wisps of black silk, like remnant clouds, remained in the sky, struggling, twisting, and evaporating in the sunlight.
And the once-and-future Lord of Black Qi was now bathed in sunlight.
What a rebellion.
What a profanation.
Even Demon Ox was stunned; he never imagined that after becoming the Lord of Black Qi, he would have such a moment of isolation and helplessness.
The Dark Energy was gone.
His trump card was gone.
His backup was gone.
Finally, a shadow fell upon him.
That figure blocked the sun; around him, any solar particles that tried to approach would be captured, leaving behind pure black.
Mark's body seemed to have grown even more robust.
Broad shoulders, knotted muscles, a body like cast iron.
The red cape behind him fluttered in the wind, snapping loudly.
He suspended there, like an ancient god or demon.
"Father..."
Demon Ox smiled weakly.
"It's not that I didn't try my best, but that this Dark Energyactually has an end..."
"Hahaha."
His laughter was hoarse and weary, carrying an indescribable sense of relief.
His trump card was truly exhausted now.
What is a Lord of Black Qi without Dark Energy?
As the only person currently representing the dark aura in this world, now that the dark aura was rapidly vanishing, what did that make him?
Suddenly—
Demon Ox's eyes widened.
He looked seriously at Mark's expression.
He saw that Mark's face was now extremely grim, flames of anger burning in his eyes, his facial muscles twitching slightly, and his entire aura was terrifyingly somber.
He looked as if he had been ruthlessly played by someone.
Schemed against so thoroughly that he'd almost lost everything.
"So that's how it is... so that's how it is."
"Hahahahahahahahaha."
Demon Ox suddenly roared with laughter toward the sky.
There was no fear in that laughter, no despair, only a heartfelt, hearty delight.
"Father, oh Father."
"Are you really just a dragon?"
"Truly worthy of being an ancient demon; no, you should be the wisest existence among all demons."
"Not only did you scheme against all of your own kind, but you also schemed against this Mark Grayson, and even against me, and this entire world?"
"Bullshit about 'winning by half a move against heaven'; it turns out you never intended to contend with the worldfrom the start."
"What you were scheming against was this Extraterrestrial Demon."
"And this Extraterrestrial Demon, because of your scheme, was forced to contend with the entire world."
"The right time, the right place, and the right people... they say for something to succeed, these three elements must be gathered."
"But Shendu, that old dragon, relied solely on the demons' ultimate malice toward this world, the familial bonds between siblings, and absolute trust in his own bloodline—"
"He managed to almost pull this off with just one element."
"Scheming against the world."
"Old man, you died well, and you calculated well."
"If all of this is within your expectations, Father—"
Demon Ox flapped his wings, charging toward Mark with the last of the Dark Energy.
"Then I shall help you."
Yes, he didn't need to defeat Mark.
From beginning to end, what he needed to do was use Mark's hand to consume all the Dark Energy in this world.
He had to become the Lord of Black Qi to gather all the Dark Energy in the world and gain absolute dominion over it.
And there had to be an existence with transcendent strength, someone who exceeded the constraints of this realm, to defeat him.
And to defeat him repeatedly, time and time again, thereby consuming all the Dark Energy of this world.
In a world of balanced Yin and Yang, if it completely loses balance and goes to an extreme, what exactly would happen?
Demon Ox was looking forward to it.
He believed that when he, his father, and his uncles and aunts returned from the cycle of chaos, they would surely be able to stand freely under this blue sky and white clouds.
Even if I lose the memories of this life, everything of this life—
I also want to exist freely in this world.
Chapter 141: Evolving Yin and Yang
"Come on, Mark Grayson."
His fist, carrying the last of all the Dark Energy, smashed ruthlessly toward Mark.
"You understand too, don't you."
All the Dark Energy gathered, even he himself became part of it, holding nothing back.
This punch was his entire life.
This punch was the meaning of his existence.
This punch was his longing for freedom.
Mark frowned and dodged Demon Ox's strike.
He shifted his body to the side; the punch flew past his cheek, the Dark Energy leaving a deep gouge in the air.
And then—
Viterum Traversal.
His figure vanished from the spot, and when he reappeared, he was already behind Demon Ox.
A hand blade ruthlessly pierced through Demon Ox's heart.
The heart is the source of power.
Even if the body is composed of Dark Energy, this is an extremely important symbol.
After losing the support of his heart, the Dark Energy on Demon Ox's body completely dissipated.
He looked down at the hand protruding from his chest, watching the Dark Energy surge frantically from the wound like fine sand in an hourglass, grain by grain, wisp by wisp, vanishing into the air.
"Father, I'm coming to join you..."
Reaching the final moment of life, there was still some sadness.
We were clearly such a loving father and son.
Yet that void of the Netherworld ground away your wisdom and twisted my character.
If possible, I really wanted to get along with you for another thousand years...
Demon Ox lowered his head and used his last bit of strength to turn and look at Mark.
He was smiling.
There was no resentment in that smile, no reluctance, only an indescribable—plea.
"Next..."
His voice grew lighter and lighter.
"I'll leave it to you."
Mark looked at his already transparent face and fell silent for a moment.
"Remember to settle the final payment."
He said in a low voice, a hint of helplessness in his tone.
"You demons, you really are a bunch of fucking demons."
"Trading with demons really never ends well."
"Hahaha..."
Demon Ox laughed weakly.
"Isn't that right? Respecting neither heaven nor earth, being extremely evil is what makes a demon."
He paused, his voice getting lighter.
"But demons also keep their word..."
His body completely dissipated.
Turning into countless black spots of light, dancing in the air like fireflies before extinguishing bit by bit.
But in the air, eight streams of radiant energy appeared.
The Eight Ancient Demons carried the Authority of Heaven and Earth, rather than absolute Yin and Yang Qi.
In other words, if the world wanted them to be evil demons and beasts, they were evil demons and beasts.
If it wanted them to be sacred spirits and auspicious beasts, they were sacred spirits and auspicious beasts.
Their own stance changed according to the world's thoughts and their own will.
But this innate authority had not changed for a single moment.
The Primordial Eight Trigrams.
Qian, Kun, Zhen, Xun, Kan, Li, Gen, Dui.
Heaven, Earth, Thunder, Wind, Water, Fire, Mountain, Marsh.
The eight streams of energy extended and evolved on their own; a corner of the world seemed to be surrounded by drifting green clouds and layered mountain ranges.
Those energies intertwined, collided, and merged in the air, finally evolving into a complete phantom of a world—with mountains and water, wind and thunder, sun and moon, and shifting stars.
But in the end, this realm continued to evolve and ascend before returning to nothingness, turning into a ball of pure energy that came before Mark.
That ball of energy was as warm as jade, as thick as the earth, and as light as a breeze.
It had no attributes, no stance, no will—it was just pure, primordial source power from the beginning of the world.
The fusion of positive energy with his body was so comfortable.
It didn't bring Mark any increase in strength; what it added was merely authority.
But from then on, a world of its own was formed within Mark's body.
Evil Energy could not invade, and Noble Qi could not influence it.
At this very moment, this Extraterrestrial Demon truly reached his complete form.
A so-called Extraterrestrial Demon is nothing more than a person from another world.
But when a person from another world forms a Pocket Dimension within their body, they become a Pocket Dimension themselves.
Only magic can defeat magic.
The shackles set by the world can only be broken by another world.
And now that the Dark Energy has completely vanished, the balance of Yin and Yang in the world before him has been completely shattered, reaching an extreme point.
For the world to give birth to a new balance of Yin and Yang again, it must use its final power.
It must defeat Mark, obtain the Eight Trigrams authority within him, and evolve once more.
The ancient demon, Shendu, the Lord of Fire—
All the schemes were now fully realized.
Heaven and earth could not change his will, and Yin and Yang could not disturb his heart.
As if in the infinite chaos of heaven and earth, the deceased Fire Lord finally set his mind at ease.
He chanted in a low voice, his voice passing through chaos, through reincarnation, through life and death:
"The will of our kind is hard for heaven and earth to move; let not Yin and Yang disturb the truth of the Dao heart."
"Following not the floating laws of the firmament, I dare to break the shackles of this mortal cage."
"With cold eyes, I slight the fate of kings and lords; with a proud frame, I defy heaven and earth through wind and rain."
"In this life, I die only for freedom—"
He paused.
"I bow not to the heavens and kneel not to the gods!"
...
Heaven and earth were enraged!
It was not a tangible god or a concrete spirit, but a will older than thunder, heavier than mountains, and deeper than the ocean.
Since this world was carved out of chaos, there had never been such a moment!
A demon born from it actually dared to set up such a situation, just to target it, just to destroy it.
Heaven and earth have no clear intelligence; it merely keeps the balance of Yin and Yang on its own, like a pendulum, like the tides, like the changing of the seasons.
But the moment Yin and Yang are completely out of balance, the pendulum breaks, the tides reverse, and the seasons are chaotic—heaven and earth will surely react.
It was not anger, yet it surpassed anger.
It was not a will, yet it carried the decisiveness of a will.
In the sky, wild winds howled.
That wind did not blow from any single direction but surged from all directions simultaneously, intertwining, colliding, and tearing apart in the firmament, letting out a roar like that of an ancient giant beast.
Thunder vibrated, not just one or two bolts, but thousands striking down at once; purple lightning tore the entire sky to shreds, illuminating the already devastated city.
San Francisco was trembling.
The whole world was trembling.
Jackie Chan held a bowl of hot soup, taking small sips.
The soup was made from compressed soup blocks; the taste was bland, but it was piping hot.
He drank every sip seriously, even scraping the soup stains off the side of the bowl with his finger to lick them into his mouth.
This battle had lasted for an entire month, and human production across the world had come to a halt.
Fortunately, it had been an era of surplus productivity, and the stored goods were enough for everyone to consume during this month.
Not to mention security agencies like Section 13, which had long been prepared with ample supplies.
But no one knew how long that battle would last, so every bit of supplies was precious.
Jackie Chan's posture while drinking soup now was also extremely earnest—back straight, hands holding the bowl, sip by sip, unhurried, not daring to waste a single drop.
"It's stopped."
Uncle's voice came from the corner, low and raspy.
Chapter 142: The New Master of Noble Qi
Uncle Jackie looked up.
Dad was sitting in the middle of his pile of jars and bottles, holding neither a pufferfish nor a gecko, just quietly staring at the ceiling.
Those cloudy old eyes seemed to see through it, to the roaring sky outside.
"But something even more terrifying is coming."
Uncle Jackie's soup spoon stopped mid-air.
"What exactly did the demons do?" he asked.
"Why is Heaven and Earth angry? This isn't even recorded in the ancient texts."
Dad did not answer.
Then Jade hopped down from the chair nearby, ran to Uncle Jackie, grabbed his arm, and started shaking it.
"Uncle Jackie! I want to go out and see! Just one look!"
Her eyes were sparkling, filled with all the longing accumulated from being locked in the basement for a month.
"Anyway, those two guys are fighting from the south to the north, it's impossible for them to appear right above Section 13!"
Uncle Jackie pulled a long face.
"No."
Jade immediately changed tactics, hugging his leg and starting to rub against it.
"Please, Uncle Jackie~ let's just go out and take one look~"
For a Little girl of seven or eight, staying in this basementfor a month was truly wearing down her nature.
No sunlight, no wind, no grass, she couldn't even see the sky.
All she could do every day was eat, sleep, learn a few spells from Dad, and pester Captain Black's Agents for stories.
Uncle Jackie looked at her small face full of grievance and felt a bit of pity.
He opened his mouth, just about to speak softly—
His movements stopped.
Something warm coiled around him.
That aura was familiar to him; it was Noble Qi—in the past month, that power had left him and flown toward that man named Mark.
But now it was back, wrapping around him, yet it was no longer gentle, no longer inclusive, no longer as soft as a mother's hand.
It had become stern.
Carrying some kind of absolute, unquestionable will.
As that warm and stern power poured into his body, he felt as if he were being lifted from the ground by an invisible hand.
It wasn't a physical ascent, but a deeper, spiritual elevation.
He could see a faint white light beginning to emanate from his body, a light as soft as moonlight yet as fierce as the midday sun.
Noble Qi gave him a mission.
To defeat Mark.
According to Shendu's original plan, Mark was supposed to repeatedly defeat Uncle Jackie, and then Uncle Jackie, like Demon Ox, would use "Noble Qi Return," the equivalent of "Black Qi Return."
Beaten down, standing up, beaten down again, standing up again—until Mark had consumed every last wisp of Noble Qi.
This world was no fool.
Mark knew very well that the opponent must have a backup plan.
But he didn't care.
Because he had a new method.
The Yin and Yang Qi are the manifestation of the world's will and also the manifestation of the world's power.
As long as this power is exhausted, the Heavenly Emperor will no longer be able to generate new power.
From then on, Shendu's plan would be a complete closed loop.
Uncle Jackie bore the Noble Qi and understood the will of Heaven and Earth.
Heaven and Earth wanted the Yin and Yang Qi to continue circulating; at least this could maintain balance.
But at this moment, Uncle Jackie also understood the thoughts of those demons.
They wanted to set all living beings in this world free.
Uncle Jackie couldn't judge which was right and which was wrong.
It was just that at this moment, Noble Qi had chosen him, and he could only respond.
If someone had to bear and resolve all this, it might as well be him!
His eyes snapped open, the white light within them blazing.
The next moment—he charged at Mark!
Uncle Jackie was very fast.
With the blessing of Noble Qi, he was faster than ever, so fast that he could even hear the sound of the air tearing by his ears.
His fist carried an unstoppable momentum.
It was the mission bestowed upon him by this world, carrying a sort of tragic determination—smashing fiercely toward Mark!
Mark didn't even look him in the eye.
He just casually raised a hand, fingers spread, and caught Uncle Jackie's fist as easily as catching a flying baseball.
Uncle Jackie was suspended in mid-air, his fist gripped by that hand, unable to move.
He struggled desperately, swinging his other hand, kicking his legs, twisting and flipping his body in the air.
But that hand remained motionless, like cast iron, like a mountain, like the stars.
After fighting with Demon Ox for so long, Mark's strength had made even greater progress.
That month of fierce fighting, countless flesh-to-flesh collisions, countless times approaching the limit and breaking through it.
Had brought his physical body, his Smart Atoms, and his solar particles to an unprecedented level.
Now he should be able to defeat one and a half Grand Regents.
At this level, every bit of progress in strength is extremely precious.
It's not doubling or stacking, but adding one more brick or tile to a mountain that has already reached the summit.
But this single brick or tile was enough for him to last one more second in a peak showdown, enough to make his punch a bit heavier, enough to make his recovery a moment faster.
Uncle Jackie was held in Mark's grip like a cat caught by the scruff of its neck; after struggling a few times, he gave up.
Mark didn't look at him.
He looked down at the wisps of Noble Qi on Uncle Jackie's body.
Those white air currents wrapped around Uncle Jackie like silk and took root in his body like roots.
"Sorry, Uncle Jackie."
Mark said softly, then slightly tightened his fingers.
Those Noble Qi began to peel away from his body.
Not consumed, not dispersed, but—absorbed.
This was the method Mark had found.
Instead of letting this Noble Qi go to waste, it was better to use it as a means to expand the small world within his body!
Those Noble Qi were like a hundred rivers returning to the sea, surging through Mark's arm into his body and flowing into that newly formed small world within him.
They spiraled, settled, and fused there, turning into new soil, new air, and new stars.
Mark exhaled a breath of relief.
This was the feeling of becoming truly stronger once again!
Uncle Jackie didn't even bother to resist anymore.
He was carried casually by Mark, like a bag of unimportant luggage.
There was no anger on his face, no humiliation, only a kind of calm.
No matter what, those of them who were alive weren't losing out.
If they won, the Yin and Yang Qi could continue to balance—though the probability of winning wasn't high.
If they lost, it would be quite good for everyone to gain their freedom.
Thinking this, the corners of his mouth even turned up slightly.
But Heaven and Earth did not agree.
I have finally evolved the Yin and Yang Qi and can endlessly maintain the balance of the world.
Because of you, an Outsider, should it be broken?
Keep dreaming!
Chapter 143: Punishment of Causality!?
The clouds began to gather.
Those were no ordinary clouds.
They surged from all directions simultaneously, bearing a weight of a thousand tons, an eternal chill, and a sense of oppression older than mountains and deeper than oceans.
They layered upon each other, churning and rolling, as if the entire sky were contracting, condensing, and gathering strength.
Wisps of lightning flickered within the cloud layers—not just one or two, but hundreds of bolts lighting up at once, their violet-white glare tearing the sky into fragments.
Those bolts of lightning traversed, interlaced, and converged within the clouds, as if weaving a colossal net, a net large enough to envelop heaven and earth.
Mark had been comfortably absorbing the Noble Qi, but at this moment—
The Noble Qi completely dissipated.
The last trace of White Qi on Jackie Chan also vanished into the air.
He slipped from Mark's hand, falling back to the ground, staggering a few steps before steadying himself.
He looked down at his hands.
No white light, no power, nothing at all.
He had reverted to being that ordinary archaeologist, the ordinary man who knew kung fu, could do somersaults, and would get his head smacked by Uncle.
"Jack... Jackie?"
Uncle's voice came from the direction of the shelter, aged and trembling.
"I'm fine."
Jackie Chan turned back and smiled, a smile containing an indescribable sense of relief.
Then he looked up at the sky.
The clouds were still gathering.
Thunder roared.
Mark stood where he was.
He looked up at those clouds, at that lightning, at the sky that was accumulating power.
His expression was calm, even tinged with a hint of impatience.
The next second—a bolt of lightning fell!
That lightning was as thick as a century-old tree; the violet-white electrical glare tore through heaven and earth, carrying the momentum of ten thousand tons and the roar of the world as it struck straight at Mark!
Mark just stood there.
He seemed intent on meeting this bolt of lightning head-on.
His arms were spread wide and his chest was puffed out, as if he were embracing something.
And then—
At the very moment the lightning was about to strike him—
He suddenly dodged to the side and flew into the distance!
"Only an idiot would stand still and let lightning hit them!"
His speed was pushed to the limit, leaving an afterimage in the air!
"Do you really think I'm some 'Electro Boy'? Sorry, I only like mature older women!"
But just as Mark came to a halt and turned around—
He froze.
That bolt of lightning had not fallen to the ground.
It hung in mid-air like a frozen snake, like a sword suspended over his head.
The violet-white glare solidified between the clouds and the ground, neither advancing nor dissipating.
Then—
In the next second, it appeared directly in front of Mark's eyes!
BOOM—!!!
The lightning exploded!
The violet-white electrical discharge swallowed everything, and Mark's figure was submerged in that blinding light!
The lightning gradually faded.
A figure flew out miserably from that scorched patch of sky.
He was charred all over, his clothes burned down to a few tattered strips, his hair standing on end, and his face covered in black and white soot, looking like a miner who had just crawled out of a coal pit.
"Holy shit—"
Mark stabilized himself and looked down at his arms.
The skin was split and flesh was exposed; blood seeped out only to be scorched by the high temperature, forming black scabs.
"Punishment of Causality?!"
He was as bewildered as one could possibly be.
That lightning strike just now—he had absolutely dodged it.
With his speed, his reactions, and his anticipation—there was no way that lightning should have hit him.
But in the next second, the lightning was right in his face.
It wasn't that the speed was too fast or the range was too large, but rather—he simply couldn't dodge it.
Relying on his Viltrum super-brain and utilizing his super-intelligence, Mark figured it all out in an instant.
That was: where he was didn't matter.
Which side of the sky the lightning fell from didn't matter either.
What mattered was—the lightning would definitely strike him!
Just as the Noble Qi and Dark Energy were once omnipresent, the consciousness of the world was everywhere.
This lightning could be fired at him from anywhere; no matter if he hid at the ends of the earth, flew above the highest heavens, or burrowed into the depths of the planet's core—that lightning would inevitably fall on his head.
"Do you want to strike me dead directly so you can seize the 'Small World' inside me and evolve your own Yin and Yang Qi once more?"
Mark looked up at the still-churning clouds.
His voice became low, carrying a beast-like ferocity of being backed into a corner.
"If you were at your peak, it might be possible!"
He extended his fist, and beneath the scorched skin, a golden light began to glow once more.
"But you're nothing but a broken, defeated dog! The Dark Energy is gone, and even your Noble Qi is incomplete—and you think you can strike me dead with just a few bolts of lightning?!"
He threw a punch toward the sky!
"Keep dreaming!"
The lightning brewed again.
This time, the light converging in the clouds was ten times, a hundred times what it was before!
Those lightning bolts were no longer individual strikes but had converged into a sea of thunder; the violet-white electrical discharge was like boiling magma, churning, roaring, and gathering momentum in the sky!
Mark chose not to dodge anymore.
He stood directly where he was.
The Bagua of Heaven and Earth began to surface on his body.
Qian, Kun, Zhen, Xun, Kan, Li, Gen, Dui—eight ancient runes emerged from his body, slowly rotating around him.
They grew larger, brighter, and more solid, changing from phantoms to entities, from runes to patterns, and from patterns to a miniature world.
The Bagua continuously evolved around him.
Qian as Heaven and Kun as Earth, Zhen as Thunder and Xun as Wind, Kan as Water and Li as Fire, Gen as Mountain and Dui as Lake.
Mountains rose, rivers surged, wind and thunder agitated, and the sun and moon rose and set.
The boundaries of that Small World were extending, its laws were being perfected, and its power was accumulating.
It gradually solidified.
It gradually became profound.
The lightning in the sky became increasingly terrifying.
That was no longer just lightning; it was the roar of the world, the explosion of the eternal imbalance of Yin and Yang, and the final and strongest counterattack of this world!
Mark knew very well that the world was coming for him.
The Demon Ox, as the Lord of Black Qi, could barely match him at first, but later he was completely crushed.
But as everyone knows, normal strength and self-destruct strength are not the same thing!
These current Punishments of Causality were equivalent to a Lord of Noble Qi directly self-destructing.
Taking all of its energy, its everything, and turning it into just a few attacks.
Forget about Mark needing to dodge; even this world itself was not having a good time right now—after all, it was digging up its own foundations!
But in order to keep Mark here, to obtain the marks of the eight great demons within him and evolve Yin and Yang once more—
The world was directly using its life savings to blast him!
Another bolt of lightning fell!
That lightning was more than ten times thicker than before!
The violet-white electrical discharge was like a furious giant dragon, lunging at Mark with bared fangs and claws!
Everywhere it passed, the air was ionized, space was torn, and even light was swallowed!
Mark's eyes were cold.
The previous bolt of lightning had already split his skin and caused some damage to his internal organs.
If this damage was magnified ten times, his original light injuries would immediately become heavy ones.
He did not dodge.
He sat down cross-legged directly.
With legs crossed and back straight, hands resting on his knees—he was like a meditating old monk, like an eternal mountain.
The Bagua rotated rapidly around him, and those ancient runes began to glow, to boom, and to roar!
Yin and Yang evolved to the extreme—
The final bolt of lightning emerged in Mark's palm.
Chapter 144: He's Still Alive!
It wasn't lightning from heaven and earth; it was his own lightning.
Tso Lan's ability.
The Lord of Lightning!
Lightning is divine punishment.
Although this Punishment of Causality was mixed with a hint of the world's karma, lightning was still lightning!
It is ionization, it is energy, it is the release of positive and negative charges under extreme pressure!
Mark raised his hand, and that bolt of lightning circled in his palm like a tamed dragon.
Next, he released Finn's ability and Jiu Lang's ability.
Finn's ability was the mastery over the sky.
The rising winds and surging clouds, the birth and death of lightning—all within a single thought.
Jiu Lang's ability was the manipulation of gravity.
The mutual attraction of all things, the movement of the stars—all were a game of gravity.
After manifesting these two abilities simultaneously, a small world of its own formed above Mark's head!
The sky of that small world stood far apart from the roaring sky outside, mirroring each other like two looking glasses.
Then—taking himself as the foundation, he established his own set of gravitational logic!
Using his own gravity to rotate the void's gravity, he forcibly squeezed and tore apart the surrounding spiritual qi and air.
All things were violently rubbed by gravity; charges surged, Yin and Yang collided, and lightning naturally condensed.
The triple attack was fully prepared!
Lightning—born from Tso Lan's authority!
Natural disaster—brewing from Finn's authority!
Super-electromagnetic Gun—accelerated by Jiu Lang's authority!
"Come on!"
Mark pointed a single finger at the sky!
That bolt of lightning he had condensed himself shot out from his palm!
"Let's see if this punishment has enough kick!"
The two bolts of lightning collided in mid-air!
The heavens and earth changed color!
Purple-white electrical sparks exploded, dyeing the entire sky a blinding white!
The Shockwave wave spread in all directions; wherever it passed, clouds were shredded, air was displaced, and the earth trembled!
The two bolts of lightning constantly collided and canceled each other out!
The light grew brighter, the sound grew louder, and the power grew stronger!
A look of pleasant surprise appeared in Mark's eyes.
Excellent!
This way, he was in the mood to consume the remaining Noble Qi and the world's final capital!
But in the next second—
The two bolts of lightning did not clash; instead, they turned and fused!
They entwined like two mating snakes, like two merging rivers—and then, they struck straight at Mark!
An indistinct feeling from the world seemed to tell Mark—
You have indeed formed your own small world and can control these worldly elements.
But right now, it's as if you are using my power within my body.
Naturally, I can take my power and turn it to my use once more.
The next moment—
The lightning slammed fiercely into Mark!
The lightning light exploded once again!
The purple-white electrical sparks swallowed everything—Mark's figure, the rotating Bagua, and that small worldthat was taking shape!
The lightning light dissipated.
The figure inside remained as motionless as a mountain.
Mark stood where he was, his body charred black, his skin cracked, and his flesh a bloody mess.
But his eyes—
Were still bright.
"What a load of crap!"
He opened his mouth and spat out a puff of black smoke.
"What was that about 'your power can also be used by me'—if you could use it, why the fuck didn't you use it earlier?!"
He looked down at the injuries on his body.
Beneath the charred skin, a golden light was beginning to glow again.
Those split-open wounds were healing at a speed visible to the naked eye.
I knew the power of the lightning had already been mostly canceled out by my own lightning!"
He looked up at the clouds that were starting to break apart.
"Even if you could re-convert my remaining lightning and combine it with the rest of this punishment to strike me—"
He smiled.
That smile looked exceptionally brilliant on his charred face.
"The power isn't even sixty or seventy percent of what it was before!"
Mark was covered in blood.
But he was confident.
Because the Noble Qi in his body had already been used up in that bolt of lightning just now.
Although a portion was used to strengthen his body, he had also absorbed at least forty percent of the Noble Qifrom Jackie Chan's body earlier.
Ten percent was used to strengthen his body, and the remaining thirty percent was all gathered into that strike just now.
And the power of that strike was almost identical to the power of that Punishment of Causality!
That meant—the remaining Noble Qi of this world was already less than thirty percent!
No matter what, the power could not possibly exceed the previous punishment again!
It had reached the final stage.
What everyone had to gamble on was whether Mark could survive the final punishment.
After all, his current physical condition was far from optimistic.
The final punishment began to brew.
In the clouds, those bolts of lightning that had already dispersed gathered once more.
But this time, they were no longer purple-white, but nearly transparent—that was the final power of the world, its last bit of capital, the final sliver of source energy it used to maintain its own existence.
The light grew brighter, more solid, and more—pure.
Pure to the extreme.
So pure that it felt less like lightning and more like a beam of light, a light that had existed since the birth of the world, a light carrying eternal Yin and Yang, and the righteousness and evil of a thousand autumns.
Mark shouted provocatively at the heavens.
"Come on!"
He spread his arms, puffed out his chest, and wore a look of almost insane defiance on his face.
"See if you can strike me dead!"
The final bolt of lightning fell.
In that instant, the world lost its color.
All sound was swallowed, all light was absorbed, and all existence was frozen.
Only that bolt of lightning remained, that nearly transparent bolt carrying the final will of the entire world—slowly falling.
Mark's expression became incredibly solemn at the final moment.
The power of the small world was indeed exhausted.
The Bagua runes flickered behind him, the phantoms of mountains and rivers began to collapse, and that sky that was taking shape began to crack.
He could feel that the small world within him was trembling, groaning, and exhausting its last shred of strength.
But he still had solar particles!
And Smart Atoms!
Golden light radiated from within Mark's body, repairing his injuries at an incredible speed.
The charred skin began to peel off, revealing new, tougher flesh beneath.
The shattered bones began to heal, becoming denser and heavier.
The damaged internal organs began to regenerate, becoming stronger and more efficient.
The reason he had waited until now to repair himself—
Was precisely to prevent this world from noticing anything amiss!
The lightning light submerged his body!
The earth shattered, and all things were silenced!
The moment that light fell, the earth for a hundred miles around was like it had been smashed by a giant hand, cracking inch by inch and collapsing piece by piece.
Dust rose ten thousand meters into the sky, blotting out the sun like the curtain of doomsday.
The lightning light dissipated.
In the smoke and dust, a figure stood up unsteadily.
There wasn't a single patch of intact skin left on his body.
Charred muscle tissue was exposed to the air, and in some places, even white bone could be seen.
His internal organs had been shaken to pieces, and several fragments slipped from his wounds and fell to the ground.
But—he was alive.
A hoarse yet loud laughter echoed through the world and across these ruins.
Chapter 145: Competing for Freedom
Mark stood up, swaying like a tree broken by a storm, yet still stubbornly standing tall.
He was alive.
Mark stumbled as he flew toward the sky.
He flew higher and higher, passing through the dissipating clouds, through the atmosphere where starlight was beginning to reappear, through the low Earth orbit—
And came before the sun of this world.
That star was younger and more fierce than the sun of his home.
It radiated an orange-gold glow, like a giant, never-extinguishing furnace.
The sunlight shone upon him.
Those photons fell on his charred skin, captured by his body, decomposed by his Smart Atoms, and absorbed by his solar particles.
He began to recover—not a slow, struggling recovery, but like parched earth welcoming spring rain, like a withered flower welcoming morning dew.
His physical strength began to return.
His momentum returned to its peak.
The charred skin began to peel off, revealing new, tougher flesh beneath.
The split wounds began to heal, leaving not even a scar.
The shattered bones began to reorganize, becoming denser and heavier than before.
He spread his arms, with only a tattered cloth covering his crotch.
The sunlight shone from behind him, plating him with a golden edge of light.
The radiance flowed over him like fire, like armor, like the robes of a god.
He suspended himself before the sun, like a newly born deity.
Son of the sun.
In just a short moment, his strength had returned to its peak once more.
The power of the sun was so magnificent, almost infinite.
It did not care about the struggle between good and evil in this world, nor about the balance of Yin and Yang, nor about the cycle of fate.
It simply burned there, for a hundred million years, a billion years, ten billion years—until the end of time.
"It is time..."
Mark returned to the ground.
He landed on the ruins he had smashed, his feet stepping on the cracked earth, on the scorched soil that was still smoking.
Behind him was the rising sun.
Before him was this world that had just undergone a catastrophe.
The Bagua runes evolved behind him once again.
Qian, Kun, Zhen, Xun, Kan, Li, Gen, Dui—eight ancient runes emerged from his body, brighter, steadier, and more solid than before.
They no longer rotated but were fixed behind him like an unfurled fan, like a spread-out scroll.
Now, he was the fusion of the eight great demons of antiquity, descending upon the world once more!
Using his own small world to drive the great world!
He began to circulate his power.
The eight runes began to glow, becoming brighter and more magnificent.
The light they emitted was not gold or white, but eight different colors—the blue of Heaven, the yellow of Earth, the purple of Thunder, the azure of Wind, the black of Water, the crimson of Fire, the brown of Mountain, and the green of Lake.
The eight colors intertwined like a rainbow, like a ribbon of light, like a river flowing between heaven and earth.
The entire world began to turn.
The broken mountains and rivers began to reshape, the dried-up rivers began to flow, and the torn earth began to heal.
It wasn't the world repairing itself, but the small worldwithin Mark's body pulling it along.
He was using his own laws to cover, correct, and redefine the laws of this great world.
Let the world rotate once!
The sun and moon alternate, and the stars reflect each other.
When the sun rises again, the former Will of the Heavenly Dao will no longer exist!
From now on!
All species under the frosty sky shall compete for freedom!
The sun and moon began to flow.
The sun traced an arc across the sky, setting, rising, setting again, and rising again.
The moon followed its rhythm, waxing and waning, waning and waxing, in a continuous cycle.
Stars rotated in the night sky, those ancient constellations changing positions, and new stars beginning to shine.
All things began to grow.
Withered trees sprouted, and wild grass regrew.
The living beings who died in the war—not the dissipated demonic energies, but the ordinary, innocent plants, birds, and beasts caught in the crossfire.
Their life force reappeared on this land.
This was an immense burden on Mark.
His body was trembling, his Smart Atoms were operating frantically, and his solar particles were being rapidly consumed.
The small world within him was roaring, struggling, and burning its last energy.
But he did not stop.
The sun rose.
At that moment, light flooded the earth.
It was not the scorching sun of noon, nor the afterglow of dusk, but the first ray of morning sunlight—warm, soft, and full of hope.
It was all over.
The living beings of this world, from now on—
Shall compete for freedom!
All living beings in heaven and earth felt their souls lighten.
It was an indescribable experience—like a person imprisoned in a dark room suddenly seeing daylight, like a bird bound by ropes suddenly breaking its shackles, like someone who had held their breath underwater for half a lifetime finally surfacing to take their first breath of fresh air.
Everyone looked up at the same instant, looking at the sky that had returned to normal, the same light flickering in their eyes.
They couldn't put the feeling into words, but they knew—from this moment on, this world was completely free of its bonds.
They had completely won their freedom.
The Heavenly Dao constantly cycled and rotated, keeping Yin and Yang in balance without the slightest error.
But too much adherence to rules would instead suppress the creativity of the world's living beings!
When darkness won a great victory, a force of light would appear; when light finally emerged with difficulty, darkness would win a great victory once again!
Round and round, cycling back and forth, like being imprisoned in the same cage, watching the same moon rise and set, watching the same war begin and end.
We do not want such cycles time and again!
Nor do we need you to arrange our lives!
We have our own thoughts, our own determination!
From now on, all living beings can step onto the path they wish to take.
Even if the path is full of thorns and mud—they are already walking on the path of life, and they will not regret it even in death!
If it was said that originally the Heavenly Dao balanced the world, then at this moment the Heavenly Dao faded, and the true Human Dao appeared!
The Human Dao, also known as the Dao of All Living Beings!
Heaven is not benevolent, treating all things as straw dogs.
Humans are radical, fighting for the freedom of all living beings!
Uncle stood on the rooftop of the Section 13 shelter, looking up at the clearing sky.
He had no pufferfish in his hand, no Gecko, nor any magical artifacts.
But his eyes were brighter now than at any other time.
He still maintained his status as a Chi Wizard.
This was just a power, unrelated to heaven or earth.
It had always existed in this world.
And at this moment, he saw that surging aura of the masses of living beings!
Those auras were not Noble Qi, not Dark Energy, nor anything bestowed by heaven and earth.
They were the natural breaths emitted by every life in each respiration, the persistence of plants growing, the instinct of birds and beasts running, and the never-extinguishing fire in human hearts.
Let your Heavenly Dao rotate constantly!
The fortune accumulated by our masses of living beings can also fight for a piece of peace for ourselves!
A piece of prosperity!
Chapter 146: Perhaps You Will Return
Uncle slowly withdrew his gaze, a slight smile appearing at the corner of his mouth.
He hadn't smiled like this in a very long time.
"Perhaps after another eternal age, you too will return from the samsara of chaos."
Mark stood above the snow line of the the Himalayas, feeling the free wind between heaven and earth.
The wind blew up from the foot of the mountain, carrying the scent of pine forests, the chill of glaciers, and the most primal scent of this land.
"But I cannot wait to see you again, so I might as well give you a helping hand."
Light and shadow played across his body as the Bagua projection rotated slowly behind him.
Qian, Kun, Zhen, Xun, Kan, Li, Gen, and Dui—the eight ancient trigrams began to glow with spiritual light, dancing in the night sky like fireflies and condensing in his palm like stars.
The spiritual lights grew brighter and more solid, finally converging into eight runes in his hand.
Each rune was unpredictable and distinct in form—some leaped like flames, some meandered like flowing water, some were steady as mountains, and some surged like thunder.
They circled in his palm for a moment, and then with a wave of his hand, the eight runes scattered back into the world.
These were the anchor points.
Once the master of a path, he would always be the master of that path!
Even if the true spirit is completely lost, this might just be a chance to shed all superficiality.
When the Eight Ancient Demons return to the world once more, they will remain the same, yet they will have changed!
The elderly man, accompanied by the setting sun, walked down the hillside with staggering steps.
And when the sun rose again, another child skipped and jumped happily over the hill.
That wasn't him... but was it really not him?
"Finally, there's you, Lord of Black Qi."
Mark smiled gently as another wisp of White Qi emerged from his palm.
He wasn't sure if Demon Ox would return.
The Dark Energy in this world had long been exhausted, with not a single trace remaining.
But within the miniature world inside him, he still stored some Noble Qi.
Though it was only an extremely tiny wisp, no longer able to exert the slightest influence on the world.
However, the Lord of Black Qi and the Lord of Noble Qiheld equal status.
Demon Ox might not be unable to return from the boundless chaos by relying on this wisp of Heavenly Noble Qi.
After all, in this entire world, the only one truly compatible with this wisp of Noble Qi was Demon Ox.
Mark opened his hand, and that wisp of white Heavenly Noble Qi rose from his palm, drifting and floating into the air and into the clouds.
It circled among the clouds for a moment, like a lost dove that had finally found its way home, and then dissipated into the horizon.
The blue sky and white clouds flowed as golden light washed over him.
Mark smiled and waved at the white mist.
Then his figure vanished from the spot.
In the blink of an eye, Mark found the soles of his shoes stained with the blood of the Battle Beast.
The white lion's head still lay on the ground, a hearty smile frozen on its face.
That smile was pure, like a child who had finally fulfilled a wish, like a traveler who had finally found a home.
Mark bent down and gently picked up the head.
It was heavy.
Not a physical weight, but a spiritual one.
This head once belonged to a warrior who fought for glory, a brave soul who never feared death, a madman who was still smiling in the final moment of his life.
"I have no intention of turning you into a cloak," Mark said softly, his voice echoing in the empty ruins.
"But since we have known each other, I want to give you a dignified end.
An end befitting a warrior."
He looked down at the head, at the face with the frozen smile.
The amber eyes had lost their luster, but the curve of the mouth still turned upward.
It was as if death to him was not an end, but a long-awaited feast.
"Mark, what are you going to do with that head?"
A flash of blue light appeared.
Cecil arrived at Mark's side using a teleportation device.
He wore his signature black suit, his face bearing an indefinable expression—a mix of awe, curiosity, and a trace of imperceptible tension.
Whether it was his imagination or not, Cecil felt that Markhad become stronger.
Even stronger than when he was fighting the Battle Beast!
Though his clothes were tattered, they couldn't hide the terrifying pressure within that body.
That pressure wasn't released intentionally; it emanated from his very core, like a peerless sword kept in its scabbard—even if not drawn, one dared not look at it directly.
"I assume you brought me some spare clothes, Cecil?" Mark asked with a smile.
Cecil was taken aback for a moment, then he also smiled.
"I didn't prepare any for you, but someone else did."
He pointed toward the sky.
Omni-Man Nolan, dressed in casual home clothes, descended from the sky, holding a set of the clothes Markusually wore.
A grey hoodie, black trousers, and white sneakers—Debbiehad just bought them last week.
He landed on the ruins and looked his son up and down, his gaze holding a hint of reproach, but more of that peculiar "I won't say it, but I care" awkwardness typical of an old father.
"How do you end up in such a mess every time you fight?" Nolan handed over the clothes.
Mark took the clothes and pulled them on in a few quick motions.
The hoodie was a bit tight, as he had bulked up again recently, but at least he could wear it.
He looked down at himself and nodded in satisfaction.
"Don't worry, Dad, I'm not that fragile." He moved his shoulders and straightened the collar of his T-shirt.
"It's just that the wear and tear on my clothes is indeed a bit high."
Nolan's gaze fell on the white lion's head in Mark's hand, but he didn't ask further.
He simply nodded and then shifted his gaze toward the distant horizon.
"I want to bury him," Mark said softly, holding the Battle Beast's head.
"You're going to bury this enemy?" Nolan's tone was calm, as if he were simply asking about the weather.
Viltrumites are a warrior race; they naturally respect the strong.
If that strong individual possessed noble qualities, then building a tomb for them after death was actually quite common for those among the Viltrumites with a sentimental nature.
It wasn't pity or charity, but a pure, heartfelt respect.
The father and son's gazes simultaneously fell on Cecil.
They couldn't exactly carry the Battle Beast's corpse directly to be buried; that would violate the dignity of a warrior.
"I'll go get an alloy box to put him in."
Cecil slapped his forehead and said helplessly.
Do they have any idea how expensive each teleportation is?
But he still pressed the teleportation device, and with a flash of blue light, he vanished from the spot.
A moment later, he returned, holding a long, silver rectangular box.
Cecil was quite thoughtful.
The box wasn't an ordinary transport crate, but had been specially made into the shape of a coffin.
The edges were polished smooth, the surface was buffed to a shine, and there were even a few simple patterns engraved on the lid.
Anyone who didn't know better would think it was packaging for some high-end artwork.
Mark opened the lid and gently placed the Battle Beast's head inside.
He then bent down to pick up the two weapons from the ground.
The giant axe and the long blade—he placed them into the box as well, on either side of the head, like weapons held in a warrior's hands during their eternal sleep.
He closed the lid.
With a click, the latch fastened tight.
Shortly after, the father and son were flying in the sky.
Mark carried the silver box in one hand, his other hand hanging naturally at his side.
Nolan flew beside him, both maintaining a tacit silence.
The wind whistled past them, and the clouds billowed like a sea beneath their feet.
They flew over cities, over fields, over rivers, and over mountains.
The scenery on the ground changed from bustling to desolate, from green to grey, and finally into a vast expanse of white snow.
Chapter 147: I Want to Go to the Viltrum
The the Himalayas.
Mark Grayson chose a sun-drenched slope and slowly descended.
The snow was thick, reaching past his ankles.
The air was thin and cold, his exhaled breath instantly condensing into white mist.
But this temperature meant nothing to him.
He placed the box on the snow, then bent down and began to dig a hole.
No tools.
He used his own palms and arms.
His palms plunged into the permafrost, lifting a large chunk of icy gravel.
His arms swept away the snow, revealing the bedrock beneath.
One punch down, and the rock shattered.
Another punch, and stone fragments flew.
He dug like this, punch by punch, his movements steady and powerful, as if performing an extremely solemn task.
Nolan Grayson stood nearby, not helping.
He knew this was Mark's task.
This hole had to be dug by Mark's own hands.
The hole was finished.
Neither deep nor shallow, it was just right to hold the box.
Mark bent over to place the box inside, then used both hands to scoop the excavated permafrost and gravel back in, handful by handful.
His movements were slow and careful, like tucking in an old friend with a blanket.
Finally, he drove the two weapons—the giant axe and the long blade—into the mound.
The axe blade faced outward, the sword tip pointed to the sky, gleaming coldly in the sunlight of the snowy mountains.
Mark stood tall, looking down at the simple grave.
"May your soul find peace," he whispered.
He wouldn't recite any prayers, and he believed the Battle Beast didn't need them anyway.
After a true warrior dies, all they need is a place of peace and the weapons they once wielded.
That was enough.
The wind blew down from the peaks, swirling a snowflake that landed on the grave and quickly melted.
Mark stood there, his red cape snapping in the wind.
His silhouette looked exceptionally tall against the backdrop of the snowy mountains.
The souls of the brave and fearless are often full.
Mark turned around and looked at Nolan.
"I want to go to Viltrum, Dad."
He spoke.
His voice was calm, as if saying, "I want to go to the supermarket."
Nolan's eyes widened as he looked at Mark.
For a moment, he even wondered if something was wrong with his super hearing.
Go to Viltrum?
Run straight to the headquarters?
I'm still thinking about how to defend Earth with you, and you're already thinking about how to go and kill all the Viltrums?
"Son, I admit you're very strong," Nolan said, choosing his words carefully. "But the Grand Regent of Viltrum is the strongest survivor of the Great Purge."
He looked at Mark, hoping his son understood the weight of those words.
"It would take at least four Viltrums of my level to defeat him.
"Not to mention he has Viltrum warriors under him whose strength is second only to mine, or even not weaker than mine."
When Nolan said this, there was no hint of boasting or self-deprecation.
The fact that he could be dubbed "Great" was enough to prove his strength—Viltrums never respect the weak.
There were those below the Grand Regent who could trade blows with Nolan, but defeating him was difficult.
This also indirectly highlighted the Grand Regent's power.
Even Nolan, a top-tier combatant among Viltrums, was far from being a match for him.
"Sigh, old man, why can't you just trust me?"
Mark sighed helplessly.
Then—
He moved.
That punch came without any sign, without any warning.
One second he was standing there sighing, the next his fist was in front of Nolan's face!
Nolan's instincts reacted in an instant.
His body adjusted to a combat state within a thousandth of a second, arms rising, center of gravity shifting down—
But he couldn't resist.
Mark's speed was too fast!
So fast that Nolan only had time to take a defensive stance and couldn't dodge at all!
The next second—
Mark's fist changed from a punch to a grab.
In the end, he couldn't bear to punch a hole straight through his father's stomach.
Although Viltrums wouldn't die, the pain was very real.
His fingers clamped onto Nolan's arm, and then—
He swung.
With this swing, Mark used all his strength.
Nolan only felt an irresistible force coming from his arm, and his whole body was sent flying backward uncontrollably, like a leaf caught in a hurricane!
The blood in his body flowed backward frantically, making his eyes bloodshot, his eardrums buzz, and even his consciousness blurred for that moment!
The speed was too fast!
So fast that the atmosphere was like a thin sheet of paper in front of him, easily torn open!
So fast that the stars stretched into white lines in his vision!
So fast that he didn't even know how far he had flown—the Moon was left behind, Mars was left behind, and the asteroid belt flowed beneath his feet like a gray river!
After flying for an unknown amount of time, Nolan finally managed to stabilize himself.
He floated in the void of the Universe, gasping for breath, his heart still pounding wildly.
Then he looked up.
Mark had already flown up to him.
Father and son faced each other in the Universe.
Because they hadn't installed Mental Communication Devices, they couldn't speak in the vacuum.
But Nolan already understood Mark's meaning perfectly.
I can throw you this far like a rag, which proves my strength completely crushes yours.
As for how much I can crush you—from the distance you just flew, you, a veteran Viltrum, should be able to see that my strength is above that of the Grand Regent.
Nolan sighed helplessly in the vacuum.
He nodded to Mark, and then the two turned and flew toward Earth.
As they broke through the atmosphere, the airflow roared in their ears, and the clouds churned beneath their feet.
Nolan was silent for a long time before finally speaking.
"I really couldn't have imagined that after fighting that beast, your strength would improve to such an extent."
There was something indefinable in his voice.
It wasn't jealousy, it wasn't shock, but a kind of... daze.
"I know very well that the beast's strength was on par with the Grand Regent.
"With weapons, he might even have won.
"But I didn't expect that the other's strength already far exceeded the Grand Regent's.
"To the point where, after you fought him, you could actually improve to such—"
He paused, as if searching for the right word.
"An unprecedented level!"
Nolan couldn't find any more adjectives.
He had lived for thousands of years, from the heyday of Viltrum until now, when the population had dwindled to fewer than fifty.
But even in such a long time, he had absolutely never seen an existence like Mark!
A thought popped into his mind, utterly absurd yet strangely logical—
Holy crap, could I be some kind of Royal Descendant?
To the point where my son, Mark, has undergone a genetic throwback?
After thinking it over, Nolan could only reach such an absurd conclusion in his heart.
Viltrum had existed for so long, and someone as strong as his son was truly a rarity among rarities.
There might even be none at all!
If Mark knew Nolan was already guessing they were Royal Descendants in his heart, he would surely say in shock: "Old man, are you using hacks?!"
Chapter 148: Germany's Kitchens are the Best in the world
"You've seen my strength as it is now."
Mark's voice pulled Nolan back from his thoughts.
"I don't want to start a war between Earth and the Viltrumites.
That would leave me with my hands tied."
He paused.
"So I want to go directly to Viltrum and challenge that so-called Grand Regent to a duel."
Nolan looked at him in silence.
"Dad, you said it yourself, didn't you? Among the Viltrumites today, whoever is strongest is the one they follow.
As long as I beat him and then give the others a good thrashing—" Mark smiled.
"I don't believe they'll be able to cause any trouble!"
There was actually one thing he didn't say.
After defeating the Grand Regent, he would intentionally let the Viltrumites provide him with medical treatment to heal his injuries.
That way, the Viltrum medical team would draw his blood and discover the secret that he actually possessed royal blood, making his takeover of Viltrum even more legitimate.
When the time came, he'd leave Nolan on Viltrum to be the Emperor, while he would be the Emperor on Earth!
Father and son working together—a force to be reckoned with!
Nolan fell into deep thought.
The tradition of Viltrum was that might makes right!
With Mark's current strength, he really might be able to beat every high-level leader into submission!
When a single punch puts a hole in your stomach, who cares about who's Grand Regent and who isn't?
They would simply bow down in submission!
We Viltrumites need such a powerful being to rule us!
Wisdom aside, you can't deny his strength.
"It has some feasibility," Nolan spoke slowly.
"Viltrumites will not refuse any challenge.
Especially the Grand Regent. As long as you can defeat him, the plan is half-successful."
He looked at Mark, his gaze filled with something complex.
It was pride, relief, and also a trace of inexplicable worry.
"And with your current strength, kid, no one should be able to stop us on the way to see the Grand Regent."
Nolan finally chose to agree.
His son's current strength had indeed reached the point where he could walk tall anywhere in the Universe.
"I'll go with you," he patted Mark on the shoulder.
"Let's spend a few good days together as a family first.
Then we'll give your mom an excuse about going on a business trip for a month or two."
"Sure, we have plenty of time anyway."
Mark agreed as well.
...
German cuisine is ranked second to last in the world.
Their pork processing methods are appalling—raw minced pork added to bread, sprinkled with a bit of salt and pepper, eaten just like that, grandly called 'Mettbrötchen.'
People seeing this way of eating for the first time often wonder if they've accidentally stumbled into a barbarian tribe's feast.
But no one would deny that Germany has the best kitchens in the world.
The air-cooled wind-blade knives have edge angles precise to the degree; holding one feels like holding a piece of solidified wind.
The perfect cutting boards are made from hardwoods deep within the Black Forest, with a dense grain so that the knife makes no unnecessary sound when it cuts.
Every small pot, every stewing vessel—from the heat-conducting layer at the bottom to the beveled design of the rim—is designed to maximize the rich aroma or fragrance of the ingredients.
But they are often reluctant to cook the food thoroughly.
Perhaps it's a common ailment brought by Western fast-food diets—steaks must be medium-rare, pork must be pink, and the center of the fish must still be translucent.
As if 'well-done' were a sin, a desecration of the ingredients.
But Mark really liked German kitchenware.
Cisal Stedman had played to his preferences and set up a perfect collection for him.
The entire set of knives was neatly arranged on a magnetic rack, from boning knives to chef's knives, from slicing knives to utility knives; each one gleamed with a cold metallic luster, like soldiers waiting for inspection.
The cookware hung on the wall—copper pots, cast iron pots, stainless steel pots, over a dozen in all, polished so brightly they could reflect a person's image.
What had to be handled today was unusual.
Mark crouched down and opened the iron cage beneath the kitchen counter.
It was an incredibly massive iron cage, at least two meters long, welded together from thick steel bars, currently shaking continuously and emitting dull thudding sounds.
There was a puddle of water at the bottom of the cage, and the air was filled with a damp, earthy, fishy scent.
Inside was a gargantuan creature.
Mark picked up a boning knife, his finger sliding gently across the blade, feeling its icy sharpness.
Then he reached out and opened the latch of the iron cage.
"Click."
The moment the iron door sprang open, a giant maw full of sharp teeth lunged out from the darkness.
It was a crocodile.
A 1.8-meter-long crocodile.
Its grayish-brown scales shimmered with a cold luster under the lights, its four short, thick legs kicked the ground hard, and its entire body shot out like a cannonball, its gaping maw revealing two rows of ivory-white teeth as it lunged straight for Mark's face.
Anyone else would have been a corpse by now.
But before those sharp teeth could touch Mark's skin, they were blocked by an invisible barrier.
The Bio-field.
The crocodile hung suspended in mid-air, its mouth wide open, limbs flailing, like a fly trapped under a glass cover.
Mark grabbed the crocodile by the neck with one hand and pinned it to the ground.
The massive reptile struggled frantically, its tail lashing out and making the floor slap loudly, but that hand remained motionless, like cast iron, like a mountain.
With his other hand, he held the boning knife, the tip aimed at the crocodile's spine.
A gentle twist.
The blade slid into the gap between two vertebrae, as precise as if guided by some ancient wisdom.
With a light turn, the blade perfectly severed the nerves.
The crocodile's body instantly lost control, its limbs went limp, and its tail dropped powerlessly; only its eyes were still moving, and it was still breathing, but it could no longer feel its own body.
This was the beauty of German kitchen knives.
Even crocodile skin could be sliced open with ease.
Mark didn't even need to apply his Bio-field to the blade—the sharpness of the knife itself was enough.
Mark flipped the crocodile over, revealing its light-colored belly.
The tip of the knife pierced in above the cloaca and moved all the way up, slicing open the belly.
His movements were calm and unhurried, like opening a long-awaited letter.
A large amount of blood flowed out, warm and smelling of rust.
Mark used his Bio-field to squeeze all the blood out of the crocodile's body.
The blood condensed into a dark red column in mid-air and fell precisely into the drain, without a single drop splashing onto the floor.
Chapter 149: Cooking Crocodile
Next is the skinning.
Once you've skinned a few, you gradually become familiar with the craft.
The blade pressed against the skin, slowly extending inward along the texture of the muscles.
Slicing through the epidermis revealed the White membrane beneath—the connection between flesh and skin, a dense layer of connective tissue like a bodysuit worn over the muscles.
Sliding continuously inward along this White membrane, he felt the changes in resistance beneath the blade.
When encountering bone, go around it.
When encountering muscle bundles, slice along their direction.
Every cut had to be precise; every cut had to be decisive.
The more he cut, the smoother and more satisfying it felt.
Like untying a complex knot.
Like performing a silent piece of music.
A perfect crocodile skin was peeled off in its entirety.
The grayish-brown scales shimmered with a gentle luster under the lights, like a suit of armor just removed from a battlefield.
Mark hung it on a hook on the wall, stepped back to admire it, and nodded with satisfaction.
The skin on the head wasn't needed.
The crocodile head could be used for a separate dish; it was one of the most choice parts of the entire crocodile.
The processed skin hung to the side.
What now appeared before Mark was a perfect piece of crocodile meat.
The flesh was White with a hint of pink, with fine texture and a thin, even layer of fat.
Pressing lightly with a finger, the meat was firm and elastic, springing back quickly.
It didn't smell fishy, only possessing a faint, clean scent characteristic of freshwater predators.
When eaten, the flavor would be somewhere between chicken and fish.
That long tail was the most choice part of the whole crocodile.
The meat was firm, there were few bones, and the flavor was rich.
Because it was constantly in motion, the muscle fibers here were thick and resilient, requiring a long simmer to become tender.
Although for Nolan, Mark, and Maeve, even if a piece of high-carbon steel were served, they could chew it with relish.
A Viltrum's teeth and stomach were not just for show.
But his own mother couldn't eat anything that tough.
It was better to stew the meat as soft as possible.
Mark didn't want to be scolded by Debbie while she pulled his ear, only to be ordered never to enter the kitchen again.
Just thinking about that scene was embarrassing.
Mark cut the tail into even sections, each about ten centimeters long.
Then he picked out onions, carrots, and a small handful of fennel from the vegetable basket.
The onions were red-skinned and had a strong, pungent flavor.
The carrots were still covered in dirt and were very sweet.
The fennel was freshly picked, with emerald green leaves and crisp, tender stalks.
He cut the onions into large chunks, sliced the carrots into wedges, and tied the fennel into knots.
Then add everything into that huge iron pot..
It was less an iron pot and more an iron barrel.
The diameter was half a meter, deep enough to fit the entire crocodile tail.
The walls of the pot were thick, conducting heat evenly, specifically designed for stewing large ingredients.
Mark arranged the cut crocodile tail sections inside, added Water to submerge the ingredients, covered it with a lid, and placed it on the stove.
The crocodile's limbs were severed and piled in a corner of the cutting board.
These parts didn't have much chew or meatiness; the muscle fibers were loose, and the fat content was low.
Mark usually chose to braise them for a late-night snack—adding star anise, cinnamon, bay leaves, and dried chilies to the brine, simmering them over low Fire for two hours until even the bones were flavorful.
The crocodile head was placed in another pot on the side, ready for braising.
This pot was smaller and used an aged brine, dark brown in color with a rich aroma.
Mark submerged the crocodile head, letting the brine cover half the skull, and then set it to simmer slowly over a low Fire.
Now, it was time for the core part.
Mark extended his palm, hovering it over that large crocodile steak.
A red glow began to emerge in his palm.
Light of the Sun.
He controlled the temperature of the Heat Vision perfectly—not the tens of thousands of degrees used to kill enemies, but a precise temperature that could penetrate the meat and quickly sear the surface.
As his palm slid from one end of the steak to the other, the skin and flesh instantly became crispy and charred, the meat grew firm, and a rich meaty aroma burst forth.
"Sizzle—"
The fat crackled under the high temperature, making an enticing sound.
The sound was like some ancient summons, making everyone in the kitchen involuntarily swallow their saliva.
Maeve poked her head in from the living room; Nolanpretended to be reading, but his nostrils were already twitching slightly.
With such powerful control, it could be said that this crocodile had died for a worthy cause.
From life to death, from whole to plate, every step was precise to the extreme, and every detail was carefully considered.
It wasn't just an ingredient casually handled in the kitchen, but had fulfilled its final mission in a ritual.
High-end ingredients often require only the simplest cooking methods.
The steak itself was already perfect enough, requiring no excessive seasoning to mask anything.
Preparing some dipping sauces—salt and pepper, garlic vinegar, chili sauce—this meat could be eaten directly with them.
Mark placed his hands over the other two iron pots.
Heat seeped in, and the liquid in the pots quickly boiled, bubbling away.
The crocodile tail rolled in the soup, and the crocodile head bobbed in the brine.
The meat was stewed until tender, and the aroma drifted out from the gaps in the lids, filling the entire kitchen.
Mark took a deep breath and nodded with satisfaction.
The heat was just right, the timing was just right, everything was just right.
Mark brought the dishes to the dining table.
Debbie had laid out the tablecloth in advance, the White linen one used only on holidays.
The utensils were neatly arranged, forks on the left, knives on the right, and spoons on the outermost side.
Red wine was poured into the goblets, that bottle of Bordeaux from Nolan's private collection.
The candles were lit, and the Fire-light danced on everyone's faces, reflecting a warm orange-red.
Mark bowed slightly, his posture as elegant as a head waiter in a formal Western restaurant.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to today's special dinner."
"First, I present to you—Ancient Method Slow-Stewed Crocodile Tail Consommé."
"The main course is Pan-Seared Premium Crocodile Belly Steak."
"Side snacks are Secret Spiced Braised Crocodile Limbs."
"And today's grand finale—Soul Sauce Slow-Simmered Crocodile Head."
In front of everyone was a serving of soup and a whole crocodile steak.
The soup was stewed from the tail, milky White in color, rich and mellow.
The steak was belly meat, thick-cut, crispy on the outside and tender on the inside; when sliced, one could see the pinkish meat and abundant juices within.
Of course, the portions for Mark, Nolan, and Maeve were exactly ten times that of Debbie's.
Three steaks were piled like a small mountain, and the soup bowls were like small basins.
Nolan took a look and nodded, indicating that this portion size was barely acceptable.
Maeve simply picked up her knife and fork, her eyes sparkling.
Nolan first speared a piece of steak with his fork, stuffed it into his mouth, and chewed a few times.