Chapter 134: Android Number One (Combined)

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This left Zhou Bai feeling somewhat cheated; the uproar in the city about demons was, in fact, caused by this fellow. Of course, he bore some responsibility—after all, one of the ghost fruits had been destroyed by his own hand, which meant old grievances and new resentments for the Ghost Mother. The most pressing concern was that Jiang Xing’s provocation would surely enrage the Ghost Mother, potentially plunging Songdu into chaos.

“If you seek opportunity, then I shall grant you a great one,” Zhou Bai said with a dark smile. He then invoked the powers of the Ghost Tree, conjuring a mystical fruit. It resembled a banana, but its peel was a deep purple-red, adorned with strange, swirling patterns.

The fruit contained a ghostly technique called “Rotting Skin.” Once activated, the user’s skin would shed like a snake’s, rapidly replaced by new skin that emitted a constant, foul stench akin to a toad’s. This noxious gas could be controlled and was highly toxic. The drawback was that it made one’s appearance terrifying, so Zhou Bai had never considered using this technique himself.

Unlike with Xiao Wu and others, Zhou Bai stuffed the fruit directly into Jiang Xing’s mouth. Immediately, Jiang Xing’s face turned a bluish-purple, a clear sign of the fruit’s peculiar taste. The strange odor left Jiang Xing dazed but gradually restored his consciousness. Seeing another person nearby, he attempted to resist, but a wave of sleepiness washed over him, and he fainted again.

After consuming the fruit, Jiang Xing awakened a new ghostly technique. Zhou Bai retained the ability to retract this power at will and could partially drain Jiang Xing’s original demonic aura-crystallized technique. Having altered Jiang Xing’s memories and implanted his own thoughts, Zhou Bai did not intend to keep Jiang Xing as his pawn but saw him as effective bait to lure out the Ghost Mother.

Once all was done, Zhou Bai withdrew to his room. The Ghost Tree had prepared copies of the required books. Compared to before, the process was much faster, leaving over a dozen freshly bound volumes on the floor. Zhou Bai leafed through them all, recording seven into his system panel, though none contained humanistic techniques—a minor disappointment.

Order returned to the guild, and the workers gradually awoke, experiencing mild dizziness but otherwise unharmed. Zhou Bai donned a bamboo hat and stepped out of the inner room, just as he encountered Jiang Xing. The latter clearly did not recognize him. Jiang Xing’s face was filled with joy, his mind a chaotic swirl of thoughts, excited that he had not only upgraded his original technique but also gained a new ghostly power.

The guild owner kept apologizing beside Zhou Bai, who ignored him and slipped out into the bustling crowd.

Upon returning to the inner city, Jiang Xing reported his awakening of the second technique to his master, Wu Yifeng. Though Wu had been inclined to abandon this disciple, Jiang Xing’s newfound talent complicated matters. With a sigh, Wu Yifeng remarked, “Well, whatever path he walks is his own. His potential is sufficient to break through to True Soul. It now depends on his fate. If luck runs out, he might just turn into a demon.”

He then asked, “Have you tried using your other technique?”

Jiang Xing still wore a cocky grin. After awakening, he had hurried to report but hadn’t yet tested the new power. “Master, I’ll try it now.”

Closing his eyes, Jiang Xing summoned the yin energy within. Having consumed the ghost fruit, his cultivation had risen significantly, allowing him to wield both ghostly techniques with ease. As the Rotting Skin technique took hold, a bead of yellow sweat appeared on his forehead, dripping down his nose onto the floor, immediately corroding the stone beneath into a small pit.

Wu Yifeng frowned; the sudden stench was pungent and offensive. As Jiang Xing’s sweat increased, the odor worsened. Soon, his clothes were fully corroded, followed by his hair. When the itching became unbearable, he scratched himself, peeling off large patches of skin to reveal raw pink muscle beneath.

Jiang Xing’s expression froze as he stared at his disappearing skin, a gurgling sound escaping his throat. Wu Yifeng released his own yin energy, attempting to help, but even his cultivation was powerless.

Before long, Jiang Xing resembled a skinned bullfrog. New skin began to grow, rough and bumpy like a toad’s, covered with countless pustules. Most terrifying was the foul stench emanating from him, which he gradually found oddly pleasant.

Wu Yifeng’s face hardened with concern. He produced several pills from his storage pouch and handed them to Jiang Xing. The youth rejected them stiffly, turning to stare at the bronze mirror in the room, which reflected his grotesque visage.

“Master, now I can help Senior Brother search for that demon, right?”

Wu Yifeng was about to refuse, “You can, but your condition is unstable...”

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“No need, Master. I feel great, really great...” Jiang Xing muttered incessantly as he left the room. With each step, the floor beneath him corroded, leaving a footprint—proof of his inexperience with the technique.

Zhou Bai’s implanted thoughts shaped Jiang Xing’s perceptions in all aspects, even encouraging him to seek contact with the Ghost Mother, thus better revealing her whereabouts. Experimentally, Zhou Bai had also embedded the three core laws of robotics from a past life—just a trial, harmless.

First: Jiang Xing must not harm humans. Also, he must not allow humans to come to harm through negligence.

Second: Jiang Xing must obey human orders unless they conflict with the first law.

Third: Jiang Xing must protect himself as long as it does not conflict with the first two laws.

Wrapped in a robe and wearing a mask to conceal his disfigured face, Jiang Xing struggled to accept his appearance, constantly telling himself that he would regain his true form after breaking through to True Soul. Judging from Wu Yifeng’s stiff expression, that chance seemed slim.

As Jiang Xing stepped outside, he bumped into Zhang Tie and Jiang Cheng, who both covered their noses, clearly unaccustomed to the stench.

“Senior Brother, what’s that awful smell?” Jiang Cheng immediately recognized him, though Zhang Tie was surprised not to.

“Who is it? Take off your mask,” Zhang Tie demanded.

Jiang Xing intended to refuse but found himself unable to control his actions; the mask came off involuntarily. The distorted face beneath startled them both. Jiang Xing hastily replaced his mask and fled.

Zhang Tie and Jiang Cheng exchanged bewildered glances, unable to understand how Jiang Xing had changed so drastically in such a short time.

---

Meanwhile, in the chaotic Fourth District, Zhou Bai moved skillfully through the alleys. His old horse was left at a nearby inn, while Ah Huang followed behind. Locals were used to seeing itinerant sorts like him—many idled around, causing trouble, which made the Fourth District a den of chaos.

The outer city was divided among three major gangs, four major trades, and several smaller factions.

Zhou Bai stopped at a secluded corner, where a white snake slipped into his sleeve. He paused briefly, confirming his location, then followed directions given by a salted fish spirit as he headed toward a particular area.

This path was sparsely traveled, exuding the stench of sewage. Few officials or cultivators from the Nether Classic Bureau dared come here.

His destination was the “Scrap Dog Gang,” known for their dirty dealings.

The street’s houses had few oil lamps, but surprisingly many children—around twenty or thirty—lived here. These children were residents and secret informants for the Scrap Dog Gang. Once Zhou Bai appeared, the gang members likely learned of his presence and were rushing over.

Near the street, a dozen children crowded around a small stall selling candy figurines. Zhou Bai’s curiosity was piqued. The vendor was a middle-aged man with white hair, speaking in a local dialect.

“How much for a candy figurine?” Zhou Bai asked, pointing to one depicting an immortal riding a dragon.

The children gasped, eyes shifting greedily to Zhou Bai’s money pouch.

“Not expensive, twenty wen,” the vendor said with squinted eyes, one hand resting near a concealed long knife.

At the street’s end, several burly men approached. Zhou Bai glanced at them, then felt the vendor’s grip tighten viciously on his wrist.

“Don’t rush off, look around some more.”

“No thanks, I have urgent business.”

Zhou Bai smiled, used a little force to break free, making the man clutch his arm in pain.

Among the children was a familiar face—the boy who had stolen from Zhou Bai’s storage pouch before. The boy bit his lip, kicked Zhou Bai, then ran off, pulling faces behind him.

Zhou Bai chuckled and gave chase, grabbing the boy's clothes and vaulting over a nearby wall, leaving the gang’s thugs empty-handed.

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After finding a quiet corner, Zhou Bai saw the boy glaring at him with a mixture of anger and grievance.

“What’s wrong?”

“You nearly got me killed! Just run with me, why grab me? The gang will think you’re the one who brought me in.”

The boy struggled to pull away but Zhou Bai held firm.

“My name’s Bai Long. What’s yours?” Zhou Bai patted the boy’s head. In a short time apart, the boy’s demonic aura had thickened, suggesting a recent awakening.

“Qing Niu’er,” the boy blurted, strangely compelled by Zhou Bai’s commanding presence.

“How many kids like you are in your gang?” Zhou Bai produced a candy from the stall and handed it over.

Despite his precocity, Qing Niu’er was still a child and snatched it eagerly.

“Originally over fifty brothers and sisters, many have died or gone missing recently. Now fewer than twenty remain.”

He spoke as if recounting a distant tale, his half-exposed arms scarred—a testament to hard times.

Zhou Bai stroked his head. “Alright, do you know where your gang’s leaders stay? Take me there.”

“Are you stupid? Going there is suicide. Don’t drag me into it,” Qing Niu’er rolled his eyes, licking his candy before wrapping it in a handkerchief.

“Nice handkerchief. Where’d you get it?”

Qing Niu’er eyed Zhou Bai warily, quickly stuffing it away. “It’s my sister’s. What do you want?”

“Nothing much. Just want to meet your gang’s leaders. Everyone says you’ve got guts, Qing Niu’er—so why so little courage?”

“Guts? To be honest, I’m full of guts...” Qing Niu’er trailed off as Zhou Bai’s arm transformed into a dragon’s claw, dragging along the ground and easily gouging the pavement.

“What’s the matter, Qing Niu’er? Scared now?”

The boy shook his head tremblingly. “No, not scared. This is immortal magic.”

“Good. Smart too,” Zhou Bai scooped Qing Niu’er onto his shoulder. “Let’s go. Lead the way.”

“Brother Bai, you’re good to the master. Can you spare him?” Qing Niu’er whispered.

“We’ll see,” Zhou Bai replied.

Exiting the alley, Zhou Bai had no intention of allying with the Scrap Dog Gang. Among the children, he noticed several on the cusp of awakening new powers.

So many promising youths in one place stirred his interest. Though Zhou Bai could mass-produce cultivators using ghost fruit, their potential paled compared to these children. Who knew how many might break through to True Form, let alone True Soul?

During a chat with Song Fang, Zhou Bai learned that some masters in the Nether Classic Bureau commanded dozens or even hundreds of disciples, especially the three Hall Lords, each overseeing thousands of cultivators.

Since Zhou Bai’s target was the Hall Lords, cultivating subordinates was inevitable.

As the mysterious man appeared again, the children grew noisy, loudly questioning Qing Niu’er about the matter. Qing Niu’er scowled and snorted, “Just follow along. Anyone brave enough not to run will be paid.”

Zhou Bai glanced at him. Though young, the boy had plenty of cunning. If Zhou Bai fell to the Scrap Dog Gang, the more people following, the less punishment Qing Niu’er would endure.

Among the children, boys and girls alike were mostly precocious. After some thought, they did not flee but hung back at a distance.

The approaching thugs sensed trouble, brandishing weapons as they charged forward.