Chapter 39: The Slaughter God Shows His Might in Slaughter City, the Flute God

The sound of Zhexian's flute contains powerful mental energy, capable of easily disrupting others' minds and even directly destroying the opponent's soul.

Those Soul Masters who originally held hostility toward Zhexian now cover their ears one after another, expressions of pain appearing on their faces.

Their eyes gradually become vacant, as if they have lost their souls.

Zhexian continues to play quietly, his gaze cold and profound.

His pace does not falter in the slightest as he continues to walk forward.

One step, one note of the flute.

The Shinu follows behind Zhexian, a flash of shock in her eyes.

"Who on earth is this person!"

She has never seen anyone able to be so calm and composed in Slaughter City, even killing dozens of surrounding Soul Masters with just a single flute melody.

"My lord... what are you..." the Shinu cannot help but ask in a low voice.

Zhexian smiles at the corner of his mouth without answering, simply continuing to walk while playing the Jade Flute.

The flute sound becomes increasingly rapid, sweeping through the entire street like a violent storm.

Those Soul Masters finally cannot hold on, falling to the ground one after another, emitting painful groans from their mouths.

Subsequently, one by one, they lose their lives.

Zhexian stops his steps, puts away the Jade Flute, and scans his surroundings with a cold gaze.

"Take me to the Hell Arena," he says indifferently. He had already learned some information about Slaughter City from the Three Committees before coming here.

The Shinu nods hurriedly, her tone carrying a trace of awe: "Yes, my lord, please follow me."

She dares not show the slightest negligence and immediately leads Zhexian toward the direction of the Hell Arena.

She did not even have time to mention some of the novice rules.

Along the way, the sound of Zhexian's flute still echoes in the air, as if announcing his arrival.

Those Soul Masters who were originally restless now avoid him one after another, not daring to come within half a step of Zhexian again.

"This Slaughter God has finally left."

"Phew, luckily I was far away, I only spat out three mouthfuls of blood."

"Damn it, I only spat out two."

"You..."

Soon, Zhexian arrives at the entrance of the Hell Arena.

The Hell Arena is the core of Slaughter City; only by achieving one hundred consecutive victories here can one obtain the qualification to enter the Hell Road.

And the Hell Road is the only way to leave Slaughter City.

Zhexian stands at the entrance of the Arena, looking at the massive stone gate with a flat gaze, the corners of his mouth slightly raised with interest.

"One hundred consecutive victories? Perfect, let me witness the experts of this Slaughter City."

He steps into the Arena, and what greets him is endless slaughter and challenge.

Inside the Arena, ten contestants are already in position. Zhexian stands in a corner, scanning the other nine people with a calm gaze.

Those nine people clearly notice Zhexian as well, a flash of wariness appearing in their eyes.

After all, the battle record of this newcomer killing dozens of people with one flute melody has already spread throughout Slaughter City; no one dares to underestimate him.

The moment the battle begins, Zhexian moves.

His speed is astonishingly fast; almost in the blink of an eye, he arrives in front of a contestant. Before that person can react, their skull is shattered by a palm strike from Zhexian.

Fresh blood splatters everywhere, yet there is not the slightest ripple on Zhexian's face, as if he has only done a trivial little thing.

Seeing this, the other contestants roar and charge toward Zhexian. However, their movements appear as slow as snails in Zhexian's eyes.

"Too weak."

Zhexian murmurs in a low voice, his figure weaving through the crowd like a ghost. Every time he strikes, someone falls.

In just a few minutes, only Zhexian remains standing in the Arena.

In the spectator stands, there is silence.

Everyone is shocked by Zhexian's strength. They have never seen such terrifying slaughter; it is as if Zhexian is not a human at all, but a Slaughter God from hell!

After leaving the Hell Arena, Zhexian walks straight toward the inner city of Slaughter City.

The Shinu from before has already left; after all, Zhexian violated the novice rules and had his novice protection period revoked.

However, his pace remains composed; the slaughterous environment here seems unable to affect him.

The Soul Masters on the street avoid him one after another, their eyes filled with awe and fear, no longer possessing their former greed and lewdness.

The reputation of the Flute God has already spread through Slaughter City, and no one dares to easily provoke this Slaughter God who can take a life with a single flute melody.

Subsequently, he arrives at a relatively secluded street in the inner city, his gaze sweeping over the surrounding buildings, finally resting on a mansion that looks quite luxurious.

The owner of the mansion clearly has some strength in Slaughter City, with two guards standing at the entrance, their expressions cold.

Zhexian says nothing more and walks straight toward the main gate.

Seeing this, the two guards immediately step forward to block him, yet before they can even speak, Zhexian's flute sound has already begun.

The flute sound is low and melodious, as if carrying endless killing intent.

The eyes of the two guards instantly become vacant, and they immediately collapse to the ground, losing their vitality.

Zhexian pushes open the main gate, and the moment he steps into the mansion, his brows furrow slightly at the sight before him.

In the center of the hall, a burly man is pressing down on a woman, with several disheveled women scattered around; their faces are filled with fear and despair, and they emit weak pleas for mercy.

The air is filled with a nauseating aura, mixed with the scent of blood and desire.

Hearing the movement at the door, the man lifts his head abruptly, a flash of anger in his eyes.

However, when he saw the appearance of the person who had arrived, the anger on his face instantly froze.

Dressed in fluttering white robes and holding a Jade Flute, it was precisely that "Flute God" who had just become famous after one battle in the Hell Arena.

Although the man was half-skeptical about the rumors regarding Zhexian, he did not dare to provoke him lightly.

He quickly climbed off the woman, squeezed a fawning smile onto his face, and said with a tone of sycophancy: "My lord, I did not know you were gracing us with your presence, and I failed to welcome you properly. These women... if you are interested, feel free to pick a few to play with; consider it a small token of my sincerity."

As he spoke, he even reached out to push a woman beside him, signaling her to step forward and serve Zhexian.

That woman trembled all over, her eyes filled with fear, yet she dared not resist and could only lower her head, slowly walking toward Zhexian.

Zhexian's gaze was cold and profound; he swept his eyes over the woman and then looked at the man, a trace of disgust flashing in his eyes. He spoke indifferently, his voice as flat as frost: "I have no interest in mundane things."

The man was instantly enraged; the fawning look on his face was swept away, replaced by a ferocious killing intent. He abruptly raised the broadsword in his hand, its blade glinting with a cold light under the dim lamp, pointing directly at Zhexian.

"Damn it, pretty boy, I gave you face and you didn't want it! Since you are seeking death, then I will grant your wish!"

The man roared, lifted the broadsword at his side, and his figure suddenly surged forward, the broadsword carrying a fierce gust of wind as it hacked toward Zhexian.

Zhexian stood where he was, his gaze calm, as if the attack before him were nothing more than child's play.

He lightly raised the Jade Flute in his hand, placed it to his lips, and the sound of the flute drifted out.

Countless pink petals gathered behind him, instantly sweeping through the entire hall.

(End of this chapter)