Chapter 405: Success

Yet isn't the most appropriate thing "Master, save me!"? Using this chance to have Zhou Shubi and his group take him out of this world; otherwise, if he stays he'd be trapped in a cave. That's basically a live capture—Bai Lang knows the Erlang True Lord before him used some trick to unfold this little world, and perhaps the celestial soldiers that capture him also have such things; after deploying the so‑called "barrier", Bai Lang would be in trouble.

Therefore the most reliable method is to have them escort him out; after returning to his own world he'll at least retain enough strength for a fight. In this world, a suppressed Bai Lang would be miserable… So why not make a run for it quickly?

Speaking of which, what exactly is the relationship between his own thieving‑fit master and that demon monk and Great Sage Sun and Erlang Xian Sheng True Lord? Logically they should be cop and wanted criminal, yet it doesn't look that way. Could it be that they respect each other because they can fight? Bai Lang suspects a collusion between officials and bandits; his master is certainly no ordinary person, and both the Great Sage and Erlang enjoy causing trouble—after all, folk legends say Erlang isn't even on good terms with his uncle.

In short, the two from the Heavenly Court and the West are using the pretext of capturing the thief Zhou Shubi to have fun, so they naturally can't immediately seize the demon. Moreover, the demon is extremely formidable; even together the two only have a chance to kill him, not to capture Zhou Shubi alive.

Bai Lang thinks those two won't cover for him, and his own master may not stand up for him either—this is called training; any master likes to do this. "If I say I'm going to run away, would the master still be sympathetic?" The problem is how to say it; he doesn't know if the master can hear him: "Master, let me return over there, don't keep me here! If someone above comes to capture us, it would just be a trap for this disciple!"

Bai Lang doesn't care about the dough at all; if this shout spreads and Zhou Shubi doesn't pull him away, the rest… seems irrelevant. Still, leaving like this feels sad; those little birds are a pity, but whether it's Ban Tian or Taozi, they already have fortunes of five or six hundred million yen, so living a lifetime is fine. The only one connected to him is Bai He Zi who yields nothing—yet this woman is special; she probably doesn't value money, because she's a pervert.

A streak of black smoke swept across the sky, and a man descended mid‑air, "You scoundrel, you're too cowardly, you've lost my master's dough." The baboon demon landed and complained, then gave Bai Lang a once‑over, "On closer look you've got fine looks and a good body—fine, in your situation the master would also choose to flee, but disciple you can't keep going like this, you're just too weak. So far you haven't even absorbed the Azure Lion's blood—otherwise the White Tiger killing aura would be far more than this!"

After a few words, Zhou Shubi grabbed Bai Lang, and the guy only had time to glance at Taozi and Ban Tian, waving his hand—there was a bit of feeling, a night‑long marriage and a hundred‑day bond, after rolling the sheets so many times there's some affection. Yet Bai Lang doesn't owe them anything; he wouldn't dare claim he's the one who feels better, and he even made them rich… Still, why does he feel a bit reluctant when parting? Bai Lang thought he'd be more carefree.

Zhou Shubi seized the top of Bai Lang's head like a melon rind, and with his other hand delivered a punch that made the space in front crack everywhere; then Zhou Shubi grabbed Bai Lang's skull and hurled him straight into the center of that fissure…

Bai Lang only felt a massive throbbing at his forehead, but the iron head of the Golden Bell Shield didn't crack or split; it was as if a water‑and‑land training ground opened inside his head, and his vision went black. When he opened his eyes again, he indeed found himself inside a mountain deity temple. He sat on the ground, feeling the lump on his head, unsure whether to be glad or sad, while the Yu Yu pendant at his chest glimmered translucently, seemingly almost fully charged.

"But I don't need this thing anymore; my master actually hurled me back," Bai Lang realized just how unfathomable his master's divine power was. He felt a surge of envy, "One day, one month, I'll have my wish fulfilled!" When will he be as strong as his master? Even now Bai Lang counts as a modestly skilled practitioner; just thinking that the Heavenly Court could dispatch someone to capture him any minute makes his mood heavy.

It seemed that, like his master who roams the world, catching him would require sending strongmen like Great Sage Sun and Erlang God, and even then they might fail, which made Bai Lang yearn—"Pah, pah, pah! How could I yearn? He's a criminal! A kiln‑dwelling scoundrel! Yearning for nothing!" He didn't say more, but to avoid being dragged into trouble, Bai Lang must train desperately. Southern Dipper White Tiger Fist is the fighting method, its vigor also derives from the Golden Bell Shield, but there must also be a breathing technique to gather all this into "Qi".

Bai Lang is only at the entry level of this breathing method; can this Saiya breathing truly cultivate a Saiya warrior race? Of course not, but when Bai Lang breathed again, he truly found the method naturally drawing the primal Qi between heaven and earth and converting it into fine threads of… "demon Qi?"

That's a problem: "What happens when a human practices demon methods?" Since learning that this world contains not only martial and Buddhist‑Daoist masters, real bodhisattvas, but also spirits, beasts, and other entities that absorb the sun‑and‑moon essence over years to become spirits, Bai Lang has been pondering, "If someone cultivates the breathing and breath‑control of demons and monsters, what would happen? Would they be called a human‑demon?"

In fact, having cultivated White Tiger killing aura himself, when he uses Southern Dipper White Tiger Fist, his body, mind, and essence can hardly be called "human" any more; calling him a "Tiger Demon" is perhaps more fitting, though it's more of a "demon tiger" and not quite a "tiger demon". Bai Lang's breathing method now appears to be a demon technique—"I should have realized earlier, that thieving‑fit army is just a monster; what proper cultivation can it offer?"

The Thirteen Tai Bao Golden Bell Shield has a hint of Buddhist flavor, yet it doesn't conflict at all with White Tiger Fist or the breathing method—these "demon techniques". While Bai Lang was grinding away, he felt no inner‑scene or outward‑release. So he wandered around looking for a state of mind, "Why is this thing still here?" When he peeked, the corpse of that old thing below was still there, not rotted—in fact it hadn't decayed and even emitted flames from the torn opening.

"No matter how much you burn it, it won't burn away; it truly is a rare treasure." This guy had painstakingly cultivated fire art; after attaining innate level he turned himself into a ball of fire, and now even when a person dies they don't rot, and he's also killed many beasts that came seeking flavor—once they get close and bite, the fire toxin attacks the heart before the flesh is chewed, ending them instantly. Bai Lang found a piece of wood, sliced it into the creature's belly, and the wood instantly ignited. "If only I could carry it, this thing would be a perfect tool for wilderness travel."