Chapter 135: Chapter 82: Each Adheres to Their Own, Deconstructing Labels (5k) _3
Fake Mo Zhicheng’s slightly raised head lowered once more, a faint smile appearing on his face as he looked at the distant, stunned Qin Kun.
"Surprised, aren’t you?"
Qin Kun’s face was dark as water, saying nothing.
Fake Mo Zhicheng’s gaze passed over Qin Kun, looking far into the distance at Gan Tang standing atop a building’s roof.
"Forget about sneak attacks, they’re useless. I don’t trust the zombies in this Domain or the rules here.
I don’t want to accidentally get tainted when I enter this place, capsize in some gutter without warning.
From the moment I entered here, I first fortified myself. Any poison, any harm—all is merely nonexistent illusion.
As long as I don’t will it, I won’t get hurt, won’t die—that is the only reality."
He was surprised that, this time, a Flying Zombie appeared, but more than that, he was delighted—he just needed to witness the opponent attack once with his own eyes.
He gave the other side an opportunity, but that person merely stood far away and watched the spectacle, not caring in the least about anyone else’s life or death, leaving him no chance at all.
If only he could transform into a Flying Zombie—for just thirty seconds, and it would be enough for him to do everything.
What a pity.
This opportunity for a sneak attack had been wasted by that Black Armor Corpse.
Since there was no more chance, Fake Mo Zhicheng no longer held anything back; his smile faded away.
"Did you think that, to deal with zombies, I’d try to imitate the strength of the Current Mount Mao Sect Master?"
Qin Kun’s face stayed dark as water.
"You can’t replicate that kind of power."
"You’re right, and also wrong, because I’ve already tried.
You Taoist Sects of the Three Mountains and Five Ridges—the imparting of the talisman is the most crucial ritual.
Even if I can briefly obtain the strength of the Mount Mao Sect Master, without the imparted talisman, I can’t fully wield that same power.
It’s a pity, the time was too brief. If I had a bit more time, if I went and witnessed the reality myself, I’d naturally be able to use it as well.
Now, the most suitable strength I can use is that of a Martial Artist."
Fake Mo Zhicheng extended his hand, pointing at Qin Kun.
"From this moment, I possess Qin Kun’s peak strength and combat experience."
As Fake Mo Zhicheng finished speaking, a faint light abruptly flared on his body. Yang energy far stronger than Qin Kun’s current state suddenly surged from him, like kerosene igniting in a blast—flames roaring, sizzling in the air.
The muscles on Fake Mo Zhicheng’s body tightened, his aura turning savage, the look in his eyes growing incomparably sharp.
"Good. I can only hold this state for twenty minutes. You’re not bad yourself—among those under forty in this generation, you’re surely the strongest."
Fake Mo Zhicheng watched as Uncle charged him again and took the initiative to meet him head-on.
He lowered his waist, fierce Yang Qi erupting, surging forward like a war general making a death-charge, each of his steps resounding with a heart-shaking, overwhelming force.
A few steps later, the Yang Qi rolled up, transforming into a spiraling dragon of flame across the ground. In front of him thrust a thick, scarlet Big Spear, rushing forth with an unstoppable aura of carnage.
Bang!
A thunderous boom split the air.
"Big Spear!"
Qin Kun’s martial technique landed squarely on Uncle’s chest; Uncle’s body turned into a blur, flying backward through the air.
While airborne, Uncle stabilized himself, landing on all fours, gouging deep, twenty-to-thirty-meter furrows in the concrete as he skidded to a stop.
Uncle’s chest caved in, the black armor at his chest shattering into fragments. The terrible power gushed out through his back, popping up the shape of a spinal column under his skin, even knocking one of his vertebrae out of place.
But in the blink of an eye, the protruding vertebra on his back snapped back into place; the collapsed chest restored itself; the shattered black armor, swirling with dark mist, regenerated on its own.
On the other side, Fake Mo Zhicheng withdrew his attack, looking at the bloody wound in his chest—and his right arm, snapped outright from striking too hard. He gave his arm a light shake.
At once, the broken bone swiftly reknit, the bloody wound rapidly closing up.
At first glance, the effect looked exactly the same as Uncle’s.
Qin Kun watched the Soul Devouring Beast’s tendrils whip about, not daring to approach. He looked towards Wen Yan, scrutinizing closely—by his keen eyes, he could tell Wen Yan certainly wasn’t dead.
He just didn’t know what Wen Yan was doing lying there on the huge tendril, eyes closed—though surely, Wen Yan had his reasons.
Qin Kun mulled this over—thinking that, since even Fuyu Mountain’s Flying Zombie had arrived in person, there was no way Wen Yan would simply be allowed to die right here.
With that thought, he relaxed slightly, watching Fake Mo Zhicheng manifest his power and battle Uncle.
Fake Mo Zhicheng, clad in his peak-state, was in truth in much better condition than Qin Kun right now. Qin Kun, earlier, had already spent a long time—eyes closed—holding back the corpse tide to protect staff from the Scorching Sun Department, burning quite a bit of stamina.
Moreover, Fake Mo Zhicheng, relying on divine skills, fought with reckless abandon—pushing well beyond what the body could normally stand.
It was as if an ordinary person maintained a berserker’s adrenaline state the whole time.
This was terrible for the body; normally, Qin Kun himself would never fight like this.
Watching someone else use his power, his combat experience, fighting in that state—it was, actually, a rare opportunity to gain insights impossible any other way.
Fake Mo Zhicheng fought like a humanoid beast, locked in a savage duel with the ever-strengthening Uncle.
Wen Yan’s consciousness, however, seemed to have sunk deep below, sensing the Soul Devouring Beast’s vast and immense body.
This time, the Soul Devouring Beast felt even weaker to him than the last.
Inside its body, there were still all sorts of messy, chaotic things.
He could also sense what Fake Mo Zhicheng had done earlier below.
The Natural Enemy Profession responded once again.
But this time, it was clearly different than before.
"Soul Devouring Beast.
The final destination for soul-devouring creatures—but now, its tastes have begun to change.
Everything you’ve seen, everything you suspect, all points to one thing.
All of its traits, after being merged, formed the sole label of ’Invincible’—which has now been dismantled.
Clearly, it’s lost some traits, so it’s no longer invincible.
So, it can now be harmed—by you, and by others."