**Chapter 3: Hostile Takeover and the Blood Wolf's Severance**
The afternoon sun, weak and pale, cast long, distorted shadows across the frozen mud of the Outer Slums. Inside his freezing hut, Lu Chen sat entirely motionless, his eyes closed in deep concentration. He was performing an internal audit of his most vital assets: his spiritual energy, his physical stamina, and his mental fortitude.
In the corporate world of his past life, a hostile takeover was never an impulsive act. It required meticulous planning, a ruthless assessment of the target's vulnerabilities, and an unshakeable resolve to execute the strategy without a single shred of mercy. The upcoming assassination of Wang Ba was no different. It was simply a matter of liquidating a competitor to acquire their market share—in this case, their cultivation base and lifespan.
Lu Chen visualized his dantian. The reservoir of spiritual energy, now expanded and fortified by his breakthrough to the third level of Qi Condensation, was only about half full. Crafting those seven talismans earlier had severely depleted his reserves. A talisman maker in the Inner City would have immediately consumed an expensive Qi Recovery Pill and rested for a full day. Lu Chen had no such luxury.
He continuously cycled the *Green Wood Sutra*. It was a terrible, inefficient method, but it was all he had. For four agonizing hours, he scraped the thin, polluted spiritual energy from the slum air, filtering the chaotic elements through his Five-Element mixed spirit root. It was like sifting through a mountain of sand to find a single grain of gold. The process was painfully slow, his meridians aching with a dull, persistent throb from the constant filtration.
*If I survive tonight,* Lu Chen promised himself, the phantom sensation of a spreadsheet forming in his mind, *my very first priority is upgrading my cultivation method. The Green Wood Sutra is a liability. It's the equivalent of running a multinational corporation on a dial-up connection.*
By the time the last rays of the sun vanished behind the towering, jagged peaks of the Green Rock Valley, plunging the slums into early darkness, his dantian was roughly eighty percent full. It would have to be enough.
He opened his eyes. In the pitch-black hut, they gleamed with a cold, predatory luminosity.
He stood up, his joints silent, his movements calculated and precise. He stripped off the outer layer of his coarse, dirt-stained farmer's robe, leaving himself in tight-fitting dark grey under-garments that would blend into the night. He checked his inventory one last time.
Against his chest: five Rank 1 Low-Grade Fireball Talismans and two Rank 1 Low-Grade Golden Light Barrier Talismans.
In his right hand: a rusted, jagged iron sickle he used for harvesting Blood-Thread Rice. It was a pathetic weapon, not even classifying as the lowest grade of mortal steel, let alone a spiritual artifact. But it was sharp enough to cut a throat, and that was all he required for the initial phase of his plan.
"Time to balance the ledger," he whispered to the empty room.
He slipped out of the hut, avoiding the squeaking hinge by lifting the door slightly as he moved. The night air was a physical assault, easily ten degrees colder than the previous night. The wind howled through the narrow, winding alleys like a chorus of dying ghosts, kicking up flurries of harsh, biting snow.
This brutal weather was Lu Chen's greatest ally. The slums were practically deserted. No one with half a brain would be out in this freezing gale unless they were absolutely desperate or up to no good. The market's mortal watchmen, easily bribed and inherently lazy, would be huddled around braziers in their guardhouses, deaf to the world.
Lu Chen moved like a shadow, clinging to the walls of the dilapidated structures. He drew upon Zhou Ming's inherited memories to navigate the labyrinth. Zhou Ming had been a resident of this specific sector for ten years; he knew every blind alley, every rotting roof, and every territory boundary.
The Blood Wolves controlled a three-block radius in the eastern section of the Outer Slums, primarily extorting the spirit-field farmers and running a few squalid gambling dens. Wang Ba, as a mid-tier enforcer, didn't live in a mud-and-thatch hut like Lu Chen. He resided in a reinforced stone-and-wood structure near the center of their territory, a symbol of his relative wealth and status.
It took Lu Chen twenty minutes of silent, grueling evasion to reach the perimeter of Wang Ba's residence. He crouched behind a pile of frozen refuse, his breathing shallow, his body temperature perfectly regulated by his Level 3 Qi to prevent shivering.
He observed the target.
Wang Ba's house was a single-story square building made of unrefined grey stone, topped with a sturdy wooden roof. It sat in a small, enclosed courtyard surrounded by a chest-high mud-brick wall. There were no windows on the ground floor—a standard architectural choice in the slums to prevent firebombing and assassinations. The only entrance was a heavy, iron-bound oak door.
Standing in the courtyard, shivering violently despite wearing a thick wolf-fur coat, was Skinny. The lanky lackey who had tried to kick Lu Chen that morning was currently clutching a cheap clay jug, taking deep, desperate pulls of low-grade spirit wine to stave off the freezing cold.
*Risk Assessment,* Lu Chen's mind calculated with clinical detachment. *Skinny is Level 2 Qi Condensation. His combat awareness is currently compromised by extreme cold, alcohol intoxication, and arrogance. If I use a talisman, the spiritual flare will alert Wang Ba inside. If I engage in an extended physical struggle, the noise will do the same. A silent, immediate physical termination is required.*
Lu Chen waited. Patience was the ultimate virtue of a liquidator. He watched Skinny pace back and forth, stomping his boots in the snow.
Five minutes passed. Then ten.
Finally, Skinny's weak bladder, stimulated by the cold and the wine, betrayed him. Muttering curses that were snatched away by the howling wind, the lanky cultivator walked toward the far corner of the mud-brick wall, turning his back to the street, and began to relieve himself.
*Opportunity identified. Executing.*
Lu Chen exploded from his hiding place. He didn't use a movement spell; he simply channeled a burst of his Level 3 wood-attribute Qi into his leg muscles. The physical enhancement of a Level 3 cultivator was vastly superior to a mortal. He crossed the thirty-foot distance in the span of two rapid heartbeats, his footfalls completely silent on the fresh snow.
He vaulted the chest-high mud wall with a smooth, fluid motion, landing directly behind Skinny.
Before the lackey could even register the shift in the air currents, Lu Chen's left hand clamped brutally over his mouth, violently jerking his head back and exposing his throat. Simultaneously, Lu Chen's right hand whipped around, driving the rusted, jagged sickle deep into the side of Skinny's neck, directly severing the carotid artery and the windpipe.
Skinny's eyes bulged in absolute terror. He thrashed wildly, his Level 2 spiritual energy flaring in a desperate attempt to break free. But Lu Chen, fueled by the superior strength of Level 3 and the cold, unyielding grip of a man who had already accepted the rules of this murderous world, held on like a vice.
Blood sprayed in a hot, dark arc, melting the snow at their feet. The struggle lasted only five seconds before Skinny's chaotic struggles weakened to pathetic twitches.
Lu Chen lowered the dying man to the ground, keeping his hand clamped over the severed windpipe to ensure not a single gurgle escaped. He waited until the light completely faded from the lackey's eyes.
"You called me a useless rat," Lu Chen whispered into the dead man's ear, his voice completely devoid of emotion. "But even a rat will bite when cornered."
Without wasting a single second, Lu Chen placed his palm over Skinny's cooling forehead.
*Devour.*
The invisible, icy vortex bloomed in his hand. The familiar, intoxicating sensation of spiritual extraction began. Faint tendrils of golden light and a meager wisp of grey lifespan flowed from the corpse into Lu Chen's dantian.
Because Skinny was only Level 2, and his foundation was likely built on cheap pills and poor techniques, the influx of energy was minor compared to Zhou Ming. However, it was pure, refined Qi. It instantly filled the remaining twenty percent of Lu Chen's dantian, bringing his Level 3 cultivation to an absolute, brimming peak.
More importantly, a series of fragmented memories flashed behind Lu Chen's eyes.
**[Cultivation absorbed: Minor increase.]**
**[Lifespan absorbed: 3 Years.]**
**[Spells: None of value.]**
**[Memory Fragment Acquired: Layout of Wang Ba's residence and the location of his hidden stash.]**
Lu Chen's eyes snapped open, a sharp grin forming on his face. *Perfect. Insider information is half the battle won.* He watched as Skinny's body rapidly desiccated, turning into a mummified husk in seconds. Lu Chen grabbed the dead man's cheap storage pouch—likely containing nothing but the spirit stone fragments he had stolen earlier—and tossed it into his own robes. He then dragged the mummified corpse behind a snow-covered rain barrel to keep it out of immediate sight.
He turned his attention to the heavy, iron-bound oak door.
According to Skinny's extracted memories, the door was barred from the inside, but there were no intricate spiritual array formations protecting the house. Wang Ba was too poor and too arrogant to afford a dedicated array master.
Lu Chen pressed his ear against the cold, rough wood of the door. He closed his eyes, focusing his enhanced senses.
Inside, he could hear it. A heavy, ragged breathing pattern. It sounded like a massive bellows struggling to draw air. Accompanied by the breathing was a faint, foul odor seeping through the cracks in the door frame—the unmistakable scent of rotting meat and bitter medicinal herbs.
Wang Ba was inside, deep in a meditative trance, aggressively cycling his Qi to fight off Zhou Ming's necrotic poison. He was currently deaf to the outside world, his entire consciousness focused internally on sheer survival.
Lu Chen stepped back. He couldn't silently pick a heavy iron bar from the outside. He had to breach. A loud, explosive entry was risky, but if he acted fast enough, he could terminate the target before the rest of the gang or the market watchmen could respond to the noise.
He reached into his inner robe and drew out a Rank 1 Low-Grade Fireball Talisman. He pinched it between his index and middle fingers.
*Let's see if my craftsmanship holds up under pressure.*
He channeled a precise, needle-thin thread of his wood-attribute Qi into the yellow paper. The crude red runes instantly ignited with a blinding, searing orange light. The talisman began to hum violently, vibrating in his grip as the trapped spiritual matrix prepared to unleash its payload.
Lu Chen slapped the glowing talisman directly onto the center of the heavy oak door, right where the internal locking bar would be situated.
He immediately pivoted and threw himself backward, diving behind the thick mud-brick wall of the courtyard just as the spell detonated.
*BOOM!*
The explosion was deafening in the quiet night. A shockwave of intense heat and concussive force ripped through the courtyard, instantly vaporizing the snow in a ten-foot radius. The heavy, iron-bound oak door didn't just break; it completely disintegrated. Splinters of flaming wood and jagged chunks of twisted iron were blasted inward like shrapnel, tearing through the interior of the house.
Lu Chen didn't wait for the smoke to clear. The moment the shockwave passed over his head, he vaulted the wall and charged straight through the gaping, burning hole where the door used to be.
He burst into the main room. The air was thick with choking smoke, falling soot, and the overwhelming stench of the necrotic poison.
In the center of the room, sitting cross-legged on a stone raised platform, was Wang Ba.
The explosion had violently jolted the burly enforcer out of his healing trance. This was the worst possible thing that could happen to a cultivator fighting internal damage. The sudden disruption caused his circulating Qi to run rampant.
Wang Ba's eyes flew open, bloodshot and filled with absolute fury and panicked agony. He leaned forward and violently vomited a massive mouthful of thick, black, foul-smelling blood onto the stone floor. His aura, normally a robust Level 3, was flickering wildly, dropping and spiking in unstable, dangerous bursts.
"Who?!" Wang Ba roared, his voice a gargling, wet sound. He grabbed the massive ghost-head broadsword resting across his knees, using it to leverage his massive, heavily muscled frame upward.
Through the swirling smoke, illuminated by the burning remnants of the door, Wang Ba saw the intruder. He saw the coarse, dirt-stained garments. He saw the calm, chillingly empty eyes.
"Lu... Lu Chen?" Wang Ba wheezed, sheer disbelief momentarily overriding his fury. "You? The sickly farming rat? You dare—"
"Severance package, Boss Wang," Lu Chen interrupted, his voice perfectly level, carrying not a hint of the adrenaline racing through his veins.
He didn't give the enraged cultivator time to process the situation, to rally his unstable Qi, or to launch an attack. Lu Chen immediately drew two more Fireball Talismans, one in each hand, activated them simultaneously, and hurled them directly at Wang Ba's chest.
Wang Ba's combat instincts, honed by years of brutal street fights, kicked in. Despite the poison tearing through his veins, he let out a guttural battle cry. He bit his tongue, instantly burning a drop of his precious blood essence to forcefully stabilize his spiraling cultivation for a few seconds.
"Blood Frenzy Slash!" Wang Ba bellowed. He swung the massive ghost-head broadsword in a sweeping, horizontal arc. A terrifying, crimson crescent of pure, materialized blade Qi erupted from the weapon, tearing through the smoke and intercepting the two glowing talismans mid-air.
*BOOM! BOOM!*
The talismans detonated against the crimson blade Qi. The resulting explosion of fire and kinetic energy was spectacular. The shockwave blew out the unlit paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling and sent the room's meager wooden furniture crashing against the walls.
Lu Chen was thrown back a few steps by the sheer force, his arms raised to shield his face from the blistering heat.
*He's crippled, poisoned, and caught off guard, yet he still managed to neutralize two offensive talismans with a single strike,* Lu Chen analyzed rapidly, his mind processing the data at breakneck speed. *A cornered beast is the most dangerous. I cannot let this turn into a battle of attrition.*
As the flames from the mid-air collision subsided, Wang Ba charged through the smoke. The burly man looked like a demon from the underworld. His clothes were singed, his face was contorted in a mask of homicidal rage, and black, poisonous veins were visibly pulsing up his neck, exacerbated by his forceful use of Qi.
He raised the heavy broadsword high above his head, aiming to cleave Lu Chen in two. The sheer physical pressure of the incoming strike made the air in the room feel heavy and suffocating.
"Die, you insect!"
Lu Chen didn't dodge. There wasn't enough room, and a Level 3 physical enhancer like Wang Ba would simply track his movement and adjust the strike.
Instead, Lu Chen stood his ground. He reached into his robe and pulled out a Rank 1 Low-Grade Golden Light Barrier Talisman. He slammed it onto his own chest and poured his peak Level 3 wood-attribute Qi into it.
*Flash!*
A brilliant, egg-shell-like dome of solid, shimmering golden light erupted around Lu Chen, encasing him perfectly just a microsecond before the ghost-head broadsword descended.
*CRAAAACK!*
The heavy blade struck the golden dome with the force of a falling meteor. The sound was deafening, like a massive bell being struck by a siege hammer. The stone floor beneath Lu Chen's feet instantly cracked and spiderwebbed under the transferred kinetic pressure.
Lu Chen's knees buckled slightly, the sheer weight of the blow jarring his bones, but the barrier held. However, a terrifying network of hairline fractures instantly spiderwebbed across the golden dome's surface. The talisman was a low-grade item made with garbage materials; it could not sustain a full-power, blood-essence-fueled strike from a peak Level 3 combatant for long.
Wang Ba, seeing his strike halted, roared in frustration. He raised the blade to bring it down a second time, intending to shatter the barrier and the man inside it.
But Lu Chen wasn't waiting. The liquidator had created the perfect opening.
While Wang Ba's arms were raised high for the second strike, his chest and torso were completely exposed. And because Wang Ba was practically pressing against the golden barrier, he was trapped at point-blank range.
Lu Chen, safe inside the fracturing dome for a fraction of a second, calmly drew his final two Fireball Talismans. He didn't throw them.
He activated both talismans, his hands glowing with searing heat, and thrust his arms forward, passing *through* the one-way permeability of the Golden Light Barrier from the inside.
He pressed both glowing, fully primed talismans directly against Wang Ba's exposed chest, right over his heart.
Wang Ba's eyes widened, looking down at the two blinding points of light pressed against his sternum. The realization of his impending doom finally broke through his rage.
"No—"
"Audit complete," Lu Chen said.
*BOOM!*
A point-blank, double-talisman detonation.
The concussive force in such a confined space was catastrophic. The explosion blew Wang Ba violently backward, his massive body flying through the air like a discarded ragdoll. He crashed completely through the stone wall of his house, tumbling out into the freezing alleyway amidst a shower of broken rock and flaming debris.
The backlash of the explosion shattered Lu Chen's already weakened Golden Light Barrier into a million dissipating motes of light and threw him onto his back. His ears rang loudly, a high-pitched whine drowning out the howling wind. His chest ached, and he tasted blood, but a quick internal check confirmed his meridians were intact.
Lu Chen scrambled to his feet, ignoring the ringing in his ears, and rushed through the gaping hole in the wall out into the alley.
Wang Ba lay in the snow, a smoking, ruined mess. His chest cavity was completely blown open, the ribs shattered, the organs liquefied by the intense heat and pressure. Yet, terrifyingly, the man was still clinging to life. His Level 3 vitality, fueled by sheer, stubborn malice, refused to let him die instantly.
He was gurgling, blood bubbling from his ruined lips, his fingers twitching as they tried to find the hilt of his sword, which had been blown ten feet away.
Lu Chen walked over, his face an impassive mask. He looked down at the dying gang enforcer. There was no gloating. There was no dramatic villain speech. In business, you didn't talk to a bankrupt company; you simply stripped its assets.
Lu Chen knelt beside the dying man, his hand glowing faintly as the invisible vortex of his innate talent awakened.
He pressed his palm firmly over Wang Ba's bloody, soot-stained face.
*Devour.*
Wang Ba's body seized violently. The agonizing, soul-ripping process of extraction began. The burly man's eyes rolled back, a horrific, soundless scream trapped in his ruined throat as his very essence was forcibly torn from his flesh.
This time, the influx of energy was like a tidal wave.
Wang Ba was a peak Level 3 cultivator, incredibly close to Level 4. Despite the poison and the blood-essence burn, the sheer volume of spiritual energy, residual Dao accumulation, and rich, vibrant life force that flooded into Lu Chen's arm was staggering.
*RUMBLE!*
Lu Chen felt his dantian expand violently. The spiritual energy he absorbed from Skinny had already filled him to the brim. Now, this massive, raging torrent from Wang Ba acted as a battering ram against the bottleneck of the third level.
The energy crashed against the invisible barrier holding his cultivation back.
*Crack.* The barrier strained.
Lu Chen gritted his teeth, sweat pouring down his face as he desperately circulated the *Green Wood Sutra* at maximum speed, forcing the volatile, foreign energy to convert and assimilate, guiding the battering ram for a second strike.
*CRASH!*
The bottleneck shattered entirely.
A powerful, visible ripple of spiritual energy exploded outward from Lu Chen's body, sweeping the snow away in a perfect ten-foot circle. His aura flared brilliantly, shedding the mild, weak feeling of Level 3 and adopting a denser, heavier, and significantly more oppressive pressure.
He had broken through.
Qi Condensation, Level 4!
In the cultivation world, the first three levels were the early stage, essentially just strengthening the body. Level 4 marked the beginning of the middle stage. At this level, a cultivator's Qi became dense enough to coat their weapons, manifest outside their body with lethal force, and significantly extend their lifespan naturally. It was a massive qualitative leap. A Level 4 cultivator was no longer a bottom-feeding insect; they were a legitimate threat in the Outer Slums.
But the harvest wasn't over.
As Wang Ba's body rapidly withered into a dry, mummified husk beneath his hand, a flood of martial knowledge violently injected itself into Lu Chen's brain.
His muscles twitched involuntarily. He felt the phantom weight of a heavy broadsword in his hands. He intuitively understood the brutal, sweeping mechanics of the *Blood Frenzy Blade Art*. He knew how to channel Qi to create a blade aura, how to pivot his hips for maximum rotational force, and the desperate, dangerous technique of burning blood essence for a temporary power surge.
The flow of energy finally stopped.
Lu Chen gasped, falling back onto the snow, clutching his head as his brain throbbed, rapidly categorizing and filing away decades of Wang Ba's combat experience.
After a minute, the pain subsided, leaving behind a profound, intoxicating sense of absolute power. He had entered the courtyard as a Level 3 target; he was leaving as a Level 4 predator.
He summoned his panel.
## **[Name]:** Lu Chen
**[Age]:** 19
**[Cultivation]:** Qi Condensation Level 4 (Initial Stage)
**[Spirit Root]:** Five Elements (Inferior Grade)
**[Lifespan]:** 19 / 98 Years
**[Spells/Martial Arts]:** Spirit Rain Art (Beginner), Earth Spike (Beginner), Fireball Spell (Proficient), **Blood Frenzy Blade Art (Proficient)**
**[Professions]:** Talisman Maker (Rank 1 - Low Grade)
**[Innate Talent]:** Corpse Devouring
"Ninety-eight years," Lu Chen breathed, a genuine, terrifying smile spreading across his face. He was practically a century-old mortal now in terms of raw lifespan. The sheer vitality coursing through his veins made him feel indestructible.
He stood up. He didn't have time to celebrate. The explosion had certainly woken up the neighbors, and the market watchmen would eventually have to investigate a blast that loud, even in the slums.
It was time for the final phase: Asset Liquidation.
Drawing on the memory fragment he had ripped from Skinny, Lu Chen walked back into the burning, ruined house. He ignored the flames licking at the wooden ceiling beams and strode purposefully toward the stone sleeping platform where Wang Ba had been meditating.
He knelt, running his fingers along the stone blocks underneath the thick fur pelts. He found a slight, almost imperceptible groove. Channeling his newly acquired Level 4 Qi into his fingers, he gripped the edge of the heavy stone block and hoisted it up effortlessly.
Beneath it was a hidden hollow. Inside lay a heavy leather sack and a small, exquisite wooden box.
Lu Chen grabbed both and shoved them into his robes. He didn't have time to count the inventory here.
He walked back out to the alley. He picked up Wang Ba's heavy ghost-head broadsword. The weapon was a low-grade spiritual artifact, easily worth thirty or forty spirit stones on the black market. It was heavy, brutal, and perfectly suited for the *Blood Frenzy Blade Art* now permanently etched into his mind. He strapped the heavy blade across his back.
He looked at the mummified remains of Wang Ba and, a bit further away, the mummified remains of Skinny.
"Always cover your tracks," Lu Chen murmured.
He raised his hand. Now at Level 4, he didn't need to use a talisman or exert much effort. He snapped his fingers, and a massive, roaring fireball, twice the size of his previous ones, materialized. He threw it onto the mummified corpses and the surrounding debris.
Because the bodies were completely devoid of moisture, they ignited instantly, acting as massive piles of dry kindling. The flames quickly spread to the rest of the ruined house, ensuring that the evidence of the mummification and the exact nature of the battle would be utterly consumed in a roaring inferno.
Lu Chen turned his back on the burning building. The heat warmed his back against the freezing wind.
He pulled the hood of his dark garments up over his head, blending seamlessly into the shadows of the alleyways. He moved with a new, fluid grace, his Level 4 senses alerting him to the sounds of distant shouts and footsteps as the slum residents finally began to react to the fire.
By the time the first bucket of water was thrown onto the burning remains of the Blood Wolf enforcer's home, the liquidator was already gone, melting back into the darkness of the Green Rock Market, significantly wealthier, incredibly powerful, and hungry for his next acquisition.