Chapter Seventy-Two: The Mechanical Battle Buddha

As for why Zhou Tian didn’t announce the news on the message board but chose to reveal it in this way, they could understand—only those truly in possession of major news would do so, auctioning off information in a similar manner to maximize their profit.

“This divine beast is the leader among all the ancient divine beasts! Its name is—”

Zhou Tian deliberately feigned mystery, while the group of black-robed figures listened intently.

“The River Crab!”

As he uttered these words, Zhou Tian also turned around, his back to them.

A deathly silence fell. The River Crab? Even the most foolish among them realized they were being made fun of. Each wore a strange expression as they looked at Zhou Tian.

Boom!

A jet of ghostly blue flame appeared out of nowhere, burning through the void, transforming into a blue dragon that roared and instantly enveloped Zhou Tian. An intense wave of pain surged through his nerves, but it was only for a moment, for he was already reduced to ashes, drifting down to the floor.

The one who had unleashed the flames stood stunned, not expecting the result to come so easily. He had assumed that anyone daring to stir up trouble here would have some skill, but to his surprise, Zhou Tian died instantly to his probing attack. The so-called ban on violence in the Heavenly Gate was thoroughly shattered in this shadowy corner.

He then addressed the crowd, “My apologies, gentlemen. It was my oversight that allowed this arrogant fool to intrude and disturb your interests. Today, all commissions will be reduced by ten percent.”

From his tone, it was clear this was the master of the place.

“Mister Phantom Shadow, you are too kind,” came the reply.

The other black-robed figures echoed their agreement.

Suddenly, something bizarre occurred. In the very spot where Zhou Tian had been incinerated, a naked figure appeared, back turned to the crowd, his bare bottom exposed. No one saw how this person had materialized.

Everyone was dumbfounded. What on earth was this?

“Thank you all. Goodbye.”

With that, the naked man vanished from the spot, leaving behind a night none of them would ever forget.

Outside, Zhou Tian found himself on the street; instinctively, he covered his privates, then, realizing the futility, let go. He discovered that two hands were simply not enough.

Shaking his head, Zhou Tian still felt a twinge in his trigeminal nerve. He knew it was only an illusion; upon resurrection, all states reset to what they were before death—there could be no lingering flames. It was merely the aftermath of the recent excruciating pain.

“That really hurt just now. Luckily, I died quickly!”

He rubbed his brow, wrapped his member around his waist, glanced around to get his bearings, and then teleported toward Tianqin’s quarters.

Just as he was about to utter “River Crab,” Zhou Tian suddenly thought of a pressing issue: would resurrection restore his clothes? The previous three times he died, he’d been clothed, so he’d never been able to test it. This time, he had no idea what method others would use against him, but it seemed likely his clothes would be destroyed along with his body.

That was why he turned his back; if clothing didn’t resurrect, then the cloth mask concealing his face would be gone, and his face exposed. It was best to avoid trouble whenever possible.

Entering the stronghold, Zhou Tian teleported to a place out of sight of the guards at the gate.

Returning to his room, he glanced at a nearly invisible thread hanging from the door. Nodding to himself, he confirmed that no one had entered during his absence.

Lying on his bed, Zhou Tian counted on his fingers—there were four days left until departure. If he died once a day, excluding the day they set out, he could die three more times—just enough to level up. Satisfied, full of hope for a better tomorrow, Zhou Tian drifted into a deep sleep. After the night's ordeal, he was exhausted.

Fortunately, he had spare clothing in his room. In the morning, he wouldn’t be forced to venture out naked.

...

The next day, Zhou Yan took them around the Heavenly Gate. He had visited several times and was quite familiar with the place.

By day, the Heavenly Gate regained its prosperity, giving no hint of the evil that lurked behind those seemingly simple houses by night.

“These were once sites for storing war artifacts. All these buildings were constructed later…” Zhou Yan walked ahead, explaining the common knowledge of this giant city.

“This place is unexpectedly bustling,” Liu Yan remarked, her bright eyes full of wonder as she gazed at her surroundings. Many things here were entirely new to her. She hadn’t ventured out the previous day and knew little of the Heavenly Gate’s true nature, so today’s sights left her deeply impressed.

The others wore similar expressions, glancing around. The distinct character of this place, so different from the imperial capital, captivated them all.

Zhou Tian glanced at Zhou Yan, who was leading them. He wondered if Zhou Yan knew about the city’s darker side at night. With a trace of meaning in his tone, he remarked, “No matter how prosperous a place, it always has a darker side.”

“What’s this? Didn’t you and the Young Lord of Free Wanderings see enough of the dark side last night?” Liu Yan shot him a glance, but her words were aimed at Zhou Zui, who stood nearby. She assumed Zhou Tian was referring to brothels and such.

Zhou Yan, unperturbed, continued his explanations as before.

Caught off guard, Zhou Zui scratched his head and said nothing.

“Haha! It’s been a while, Prince Yan!” A hearty laugh rang out as a burly man approached from ahead. He had a cropped haircut, blue eyes, and wore a metallic combat suit that looked straight out of a science fiction story—clearly a man from the Mechanist Nation, or at least likely so.

Over the past days, Zhou Tian had seen many in the Heavenly Gate dressed in battle armor; the Mechanist Nation’s combat suits were indeed popular.

“Worman? Are you leading the Mechanist delegation this time?” Zhou Yan was somewhat surprised, shaking hands with the man—clearly old acquaintances.

“No, I arrived much earlier. The Mechanical Association sent me to collect some divinities,” Worman explained.

“To collect divinities?” Zhou Yan was startled. Collecting divinities? Had the Mechanist Nation developed new uses for them?

“That’s right. The Mecha Buddha project is in its final stages, but there are still some problems. The Association sent me to gather divinities, as they significantly enhance the intelligent core,” Worman said casually, speaking openly on the bustling street. Many passersby turned to look—cultivators were sharp-eared, and his voice was loud enough for all to hear.

The crowd instinctively gave them a wide berth, having recognized the cropped-haired man as a high-ranking member of the Mechanist Nation, and those conversing with him must be his peers—best not to get involved.

Zhou Tian and the others were at a loss for words; Worman was certainly candid.

But Worman didn’t care at all. The Mecha Buddha concept had been public knowledge for a long time; it wasn’t a secret. Even if others wanted to imitate it, their paths were too different for that to happen.

“So, where are your people? Didn’t you take them out for a look around?” Zhou Yan shifted the topic, probing no further.