While the video storm tore through the outside world, its true catalyst—Lin lan—was nowhere near a screen.
Instead, she was locked in a grave, no-nonsense discussion with Shen Daolun.
The subject was simple.
Urgent.
And deeply personal.
How to reclaim a physical body—and become human again.
For Lin lan, that desire burned hotter than anything else. Back when she'd still been alive, she'd often complained about the burdens of being human. School. Work. Relationships. Responsibilities that never seemed to end. There were days she'd looked at stray cats lazing in the sun and felt a twinge of envy—eat, sleep, wake up, repeat. No pressure. No expectations.
Only after losing her humanity did she understand how precious it had been.
Being human meant lighting a cigarette after a long day. Sipping a drink. Enjoying good food. And—most critically—it meant chasing after beautiful women.
After all, she was still a virgin.
A virgin… who had died and turned into a skeleton.
The thought made Lin lan furious.
She slashed the air with a skeletal claw, soul fire flaring violently in her eye sockets.
"I will get my body back."
"Of course it's possible!" Shen Daolun replied at once, straightening his posture and striking an authoritative pose. "Cultivation exists to turn the impossible into reality."
"Skip the sermon," Lin lan snapped. The flames in her skull pulsed ominously.
Shen Daolun immediately sensed danger. Maintaining his lofty tone felt like an excellent way to get himself cleaved in half. He cleared his throat, dropped the act, and smiled placatingly.
"There are two methods," he said quickly. "The first is long-term cultivation. Reach godhood or immortality, and reshaping a human body becomes trivial."
"That'll take forever," Lin lan said flatly. "You mentioned before—the Golden Blood Pool."
Shen Daolun's expression grew serious.
"Yes. That's the second path."
He paused, then began carefully.
"The Golden Blood Pool is an ancient relic of the Blood Clan. Its origins go back nearly two thousand years, to the era when the dark forces and the Christian Church were locked in open war across Europe."
He spoke steadily, like a historian reciting a blood-soaked chronicle.
"Those centuries were brutal. The Church, backed by the Roman Empire and an abundance of gifted believers, gradually seized the upper hand. Dark factions were hunted, purged, and burned under every imaginable pretext. Entire races vanished."
Lin lan listened in silence.
"The Blood Clan was hit especially hard. Facing extinction, the eight princes of the Eight Bloodline Factions did something unprecedented—they united. For the first and only time, they pooled their full power and created the Golden Blood Pool."
"A vessel," Shen Daolun continued, "but not for ordinary blood. Only the blood of saints or high-ranking clergy—individuals saturated with divine power—could be poured into it."
"Through complex rituals, that holy energy was twisted, inverted, and transformed into the darkest form of magic. Any Blood Clan member who bathed in the pool even once would undergo a terrifying surge in power."
"That was how the Blood Clan survived," he said quietly. "They forged countless masters. They endured. And in the end, they forced the Church into a truce—though by then, most other dark races had already been wiped out."
Shen Daolun took a breath before delivering the key point.
"But the Golden Blood Pool doesn't just enhance power. It can regenerate flesh. Restore bodies. There are legends of a great necromancer who emerged from it no longer skeletal—fully human once more."
Lin lan's heart ignited.
For the first time since rebirth, hope surged through her bones.
A real body. Warm skin. A beating heart.
Her excitement lasted exactly two seconds.
Shen Daolun followed up mercilessly.
"The Golden Blood Pool is sacred ground. Even low-ranking Blood Clan members aren't allowed near it. Outsiders?" He shook his head. "Don't even dream about it."
Lin lan snorted.
"If they won't let me in, I'll force my way in. And if that doesn't work, I'll sneak in. There's always a way."
Fresh off slaughtering dozens of heavily armed gangsters, her confidence was riding high.
Shen Daolun gave a crooked smile.
"You don't even know where it is."
Lin lan froze.
"The location is a top-tier secret," Shen Daolun went on. "Even vampires who've bathed in it were blindfolded during the ritual. And trust me—it's guarded. Elite warriors. Ancient monsters."
He leaned closer.
"And if anyone threatens the Golden Blood Pool, the Eight Clan Lords will unite. Those beings have lived three or four thousand years. They've survived wars that would erase you from existence."
He met Lin lan's gaze.
"With your current strength… how exactly do you plan to break in?"
Lin lan's bravado collapsed.
"…So there's no way?" she muttered.
"A way?" Shen Daolun shook his head firmly. "Of course there is."
Lin lan instantly perked up, grinning.
"Fat—uh, Brother Shen. Enlighten me."
Shen Daolun ignored the slip and adopted the tone of a patient instructor.
"It's simple. Get stronger."
He tapped the table.
"In this world, fists speak louder than words. Power overrides rules. Cultivation must continue."
"As for the Golden Blood Pool—we investigate slowly. You have the Sky-Piercing Divine Ring. You can move freely between the mortal realm and the Nine Netherworlds. Once we uncover its location, we plan accordingly."
He paused, then said gravely,
"Right now, strength is everything. Without it, even if the treasure is right in front of you, you won't be able to take it."
Lin lan nodded slowly.
She'd been so anxious about reclaiming her body that she'd overlooked the most basic truth.
If she were strong enough, she wouldn't need permission.
Shen Daolun's delivery was irritating as ever—but his conclusion was undeniable.
In the end, fists really did speak louder than words.