Chapter 56: Tang Cheng, a Member of the Haotian Sect?
"Kid, coming to the City of Slaughter at such a young age… being favored by the boss is your honor. Don't say this trip was for nothing!"
The scar-faced man leapt like a starving wolf, lunging toward Dugu Feng from one side while the sharp-faced, rat-like man closed in from the other.
Though they mocked Dugu Feng with their words, their actions were cautious. In this city, carelessness meant death.
They were clearly experienced killers—alert and always prepared.
"As expected, right on time," Dugu Feng murmured, waving a long sleeve as he rose. The instant his twelve-hour newcomer protection expired, his predators arrived.
The corner of his mouth curled upward in a cold, cruel smile.
Inside this small room, every preparation had already been made.
As the two attackers pounced, a pungent, metallic stench suddenly filled the air.
Dugu Feng sneered, "Wait. I ask, you answer. Don't struggle. Understand?"
Seeing his calmness, the scar-faced man sensed something was wrong. He tried to retreat—but his body no longer obeyed him.
"W-what is this?" he gasped, eyes widening in horror.
The rat-faced man also realized the danger, attempting to flee, but his legs felt heavy as lead.
Dugu Feng stepped forward slowly, his voice as cold as frost. "This is my specially prepared poison of death. The moment you entered this room, your fate was sealed."
Their faces turned deathly pale. They had thought the teenage boy was an easy target—but he had been waiting for them like a viper.
With two dull thuds, both collapsed to the ground.
Purple veins surfaced along their necks, their faces twisted in agony, yet they could no longer move.
Dugu Feng had reduced the poison's lethality, amplifying only its paralysis—robbing them of strength but not life.
His eyes held no mercy as he looked down at the two writhing men.
"Who sent you?" he asked coldly.
The scar-faced man's breath hitched, his voice trembling with fury. "Brat, lift the poison now! If we die, you won't live long either!"
"In the City of Slaughter, mercy is cruelty to oneself," Dugu Feng replied, his tone calm but deadly. "Now that you've been poisoned, your only difference is whether you die early or late. Cooperate, and I'll make it quick. Resist… and I'll let you experience every torment imaginable."
He turned, pulling a large metallic bucket from his storage soul guide and setting it before them.
Then came ropes.
Effortlessly, he hoisted both men up, binding them so that only their arms hung inside the bucket.
His dagger sliced open their forearms.
Blood flowed freely, filling the bottom.
Terror filled their eyes. This wasn't a young boy—it was a devil wearing a child's face.
"Bloody Mary is the most precious thing in this city," Dugu Feng said lightly. "I don't waste such things.
Do you see this? Ginseng. A Bloodroot Herb. A thousand-year Polygonum. Each of these strengthens blood and essence. Once you've lost half your blood, I'll feed you these medicines and stimulate your body with soul power—so your marrow refills the blood... again and again. You can go through this cycle five times at least, until your entire body has been 'renewed.'"
He brought out the herbs and, channeling his soul power, decomposed them one by one. His movements were calm and deliberate, each gesture tightening the noose of terror around his captives.
The bucket's base was soon covered in dark liquid; droplets fell rhythmically.
Any ordinary human would have fainted long ago, but the toxin's stimulation kept them painfully conscious.
Moments later, both men were clearly at their limit.
"Now, can we talk?" Dugu Feng smiled faintly.
They nodded frantically.
"Names."
"Wolf Two!" "Hou Three!"
"Who's behind you?"
The scar-faced man hesitated only a second before blurting out, "Our boss is Mo Li, martial soul Devil Tiger. Over a hundred follow him. He loves young boys and girls the most..."
Fear had broken him. He spoke endlessly, revealing everything about their faction.
Dugu Feng nodded slightly. It matched his expectations—many gangs existed within the inner city.
Winning in the Hell Slaughter Arena granted one year of freedom here.
The more victories one amassed, the stronger the opponents became. Only those seeking true training risked frequent battles. Others fought once a year, then spent their rewards indulging in the city's pleasures.
The black-veiled guide had said as much: here, strength meant privilege and satisfaction.
Very few came seeking the Killing God Domain like he did. In fact, ninety-nine percent of them didn't even know such a thing existed.
"How many live in the City of Slaughter? Tell me about the powers and forces within."
"About thirty thousand in the inner city… countless in the outer," Hou Three answered quickly, clearly familiar with the city.
"The strongest in the inner city is a Contra named Xiong Ba, martial soul the Sky-Splitting Demon Bear.
There's also a Soul Sage named Tang Cheng—his martial soul is the Haotian Hammer."
Dugu Feng's eyes flickered in shock.
Someone from the Haotian Sect? But hadn't the Haotian Sect sealed itself off from the world?
"Tang Cheng entered about eight years ago," Hou Three continued. "He's already won eighty-three matches. Even without soul skills, he wields self-created hammer techniques—brutal and overwhelming. Even Contras avoid fighting him head-on."
Eight years ago… that coincided exactly with the Haotian Sect's withdrawal from the world!
Clearly, much more had happened than the Spirit Hall's suppression. The sect's retreat hadn't been as simple as outsiders believed.
Many confrontations must have taken place… and for Tang Cheng to end up here, it meant he hadn't left alive.
Likely, he had been slain by the King of Slaughter.
Half an hour later, Wolf Two and Hou Three were dead.
Dugu Feng collected their blood into his storage soul guide, then resumed his meditation.
For the next week, he trained undisturbed.
In that time, no fewer than eighteen people came to kill him.
Needless to say, none succeeded—all became ingredients for his own Bloody Mary.
By the eighth day, no one dared approach.
He had been accepted among the wicked, recognized as one of their own.
(END CHAPTER)
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