Chapter 37: Killing Beasts and Earning Silver, Simultaneously

May 4th, the fourth day Cang Luo was summoned to the Yuanwu Continent.

At dawn, a hundred beasts roared together!

Cang Luo, who had just dozed off, was jolted awake by the beast roars and instinctively linked to the satellite to survey his surroundings.

Through satellite surveillance, Cang Luo saw many beastlings sprinting past nearby, and beneath the giant cedar where he had spent the night, a black beast was defecating.

Yes, defecating—and it was clearly constipated.

Cang Luo watched as it struggled, barely squeezing out a few centimeters before another contraction forced it back inside.

Fuck! Why the hell am I staring at its asshole?

Cang Luo shook his head, squinted closely—and realized it was a black wild boar over two meters long, unlike Earth’s wild boars not just in size.

This boar also had a pair of silver tusks, each a meter long, sharp and gleaming like two lances radiating cold light.

Cang Luo pulled out the “Ten Thousand Beasts Atlas” given to him by Zang Feng and flipped through it, searching for information on the boar—know yourself and know your enemy, and you will win a hundred battles.

On the first page, there was an introductory note; after reading it, Cang Luo realized this “Ten Thousand Beasts Atlas” was only the first volume.

It recorded only first- to third-tier beastlings; there were also middle and lower volumes, documenting fourth- to sixth-tier and seventh- to ninth-tier beastlings respectively.

The first page also contained a historical note about the “Ten Thousand Beasts Atlas.”

The original author of the “Ten Thousand Beasts Atlas” was the Qin Empire’s Imperial Sect, Ten Thousand Beasts Manor—but that manor had been annihilated over a thousand years ago by a coalition of several Imperial-tier powers in Qin.

The reason? To seize the sect’s secret technique, “Beast Taming Decree”—but they never found it; the decree vanished with the disappearance of Ten Thousand Beasts Manor’s Sect Master.

The “Beast Taming Decree” was a secret art allowing warriors to subdue beastlings without sacrificing their own organs; back then, Ten Thousand Beasts Manor dominated the land thanks to this technique.

Every disciple owned at least three beast companions; the Sect Master, a Wu Di cultivator, kept ten ninth-tier beastlings as his companions.

That meant ten Wu Di-level warriors obeyed him—his power was unmatched, terrifying even the Qin imperial court, and ultimately brought about the sect’s destruction.

The Sect Master of Ten Thousand Beasts Manor was said to have escaped death thanks to his ten ninth-tier beast companions...

“Tsk tsk tsk! An innocent man is doomed by possessing something valuable! Isn’t that exactly my situation now?”

“If I didn’t have my phone, Earth would never know I was still alive after the transmigration—and there’d be none of these troubles.”

Cang Luo sighed, flipped past the first page, and quickly found the data on the boar below.

The beast still defecating was called a Spear Boar—a first-tier earth-element beastling, equivalent in strength to a human Warrior Fifth Layer.

Its defining trait was extreme defense; among same-tier beastlings, it ranked among the top, with no obvious weakness.

If forced to name one, its attack method was singular—only capable of ramming with its tusks.

It also noted that Spear Boar meat was exceptionally tender and highly favored by warriors...

“Heh! Just wondering what to eat for breakfast—and here comes a free pork feast.”

Cang Luo’s muttering caught the Spear Boar’s attention; it startled, jerked its hindquarters, and forcibly retracted the twenty-centimeter-long excrement it had just expelled.

The Spear Boar flew into a rage, its face turning crimson, and let out a furious roar.

Damn it! This is bullying a pig!

Old Pig has been constipated for days, finally managed to push something out—and this guy in the tree dares to interrupt me?

The Spear Boar roared, shot one last furious glare at Cang Luo in the tree, lowered its head, and charged straight into the trunk of the giant cedar with its two-meter-long tusks.

CRASH! CRASH!

Up in the tree, Cang Luo stared blankly at the boar below, amused: “You got a screw loose? You think you can knock down a cedar two meters thick?”

Seems first-tier beastlings have low intelligence—wonder how its strength compares to the Three-Tailed Giant Scorpion?

Hmm... forget how to deal with it—how do I get down?

Cang Luo looked around and spotted a branch about ten meters ahead, nearly as thick as the one he was on.

He swung his grappling hook and tossed it toward the branch—it caught, and he swung over smoothly.

Seeing this, the Spear Boar immediately stopped its useless ramming and howled as it chased after Cang Luo.

“Hmph! Not only do I get pork, but also beast cores for cultivation.”

Cang Luo slid down the vine to the ground, right hand gripping his sword, left hand still holding the vine, back pressed against the giant cedar, waiting for the Spear Boar’s attack.

Less than five seconds later, the Spear Boar charged before him, its gleaming silver tusks thrusting forward without hesitation.

Facing the lethal strike, Cang Luo remained calm, yanked hard on the vine with his left hand, and pulled himself off the ground, dodging the boar’s charge.

The momentum of the charging boar couldn’t stop—it slammed headfirst into the giant cedar with a thunderous crash, its tusks sinking three inches into the trunk.

Thanks to the protection of its tusks, the boar suffered no injury; now it struggled to pull them free.

Cang Luo wouldn’t miss this chance—he immediately adjusted his stance and drove his broken iron sword straight into the boar’s neck.

Cang Luo expected the blade to pierce clean through—but in reality, the broken sword stopped after sinking half a foot into the boar’s neck, as if caught on bone.

In desperation, Cang Luo released the hilt and unleashed Thunderclap Palm, slamming his palm onto the sword’s end to drive it deeper with brute force.

But as his palm struck, the iron sword snapped with a loud “bang”—one half remained embedded in the boar, the other flew off elsewhere.

Cang Luo was stunned—he scrambled up the vine, hanging midair, frowning down at the boar below.

“That palm strike delivered at least four hundred jin of force—but this iron sword was already shattered after fighting the Three-Tailed Giant Scorpion; otherwise, it might have pierced through.”

Though the iron sword didn’t pierce the boar, it still inflicted serious damage—bright red blood slowly seeped from the boar’s neck, dripping onto the ground along its rough skin.

The searing pain from the half-embedded sword made the boar’s face twist in agony; it howled furiously at Cang Luo above.

Old Pig was constipated, interrupted mid-defecation by Cang Luo, and now stabbed again.

The rage was unbearable—he wanted to turn Cang Luo into shit.

Cang Luo watched the howling boar below calmly, thinking of a strategy—he planned to let it bleed more before engaging in direct combat.

But fate refused to cooperate—Cang Luo suddenly noticed through satellite surveillance that several beastlings were rapidly converging toward this location.

“Did they smell the blood—or were they drawn by the noise?”

Cang Luo estimated those beastlings would arrive within five minutes.

If he faced four or five beastlings at once, he wouldn’t just lose the beast core—he might end up like the Spear Boar, torn apart and devoured.

As he hesitated, the beastlings drew closer.

“Fuck! Fortune favors the bold—for beast cores, for strength—I’m going all in.”

Having decided, Cang Luo leapt behind the Spear Boar and sprinted toward a nearby giant cedar.

The boar, without hesitation, charged straight at him—but due to its injury, its speed had dropped significantly.

Cang Luo held his breath, activated Wind Rush Step at full power, and summoned his Yuan Qi to spin his four Yuan Wheels furiously.

The rapidly spinning Yuan Wheels acted like four engines, driving Yuan Qi surging and boiling throughout his dantian.

The surging Yuan Qi tensed his entire body like a drawn arrow, poised to explode.

In less than three seconds, the Spear Boar charged before him, tusks gleaming.

At that moment, Cang Luo was eerily calm.

Suddenly, he noticed through the satellite view that the boar’s movements had slowed to a crawl, like a turtle walking.

This state was strange—everything in Cang Luo’s vision had become excruciatingly slow.

No—correctly speaking, it was only the satellite camera’s footage that had slowed.

“This is the satellite camera’s motion capture ability!”

Cang Luo instinctively understood this new ability and named it.

Motion Capture!

Using Motion Capture, Cang Luo watched the boar inch closer, timed his move perfectly, sidestepped between the two tusks, and pressed his chest against the boar’s long snout.

“Ahh!”

Cang Luo roared, gripping both tusks tightly to stabilize himself.

The boar’s immense strength slammed him again into the giant cedar.

This impact didn’t harm Cang Luo—it jolted the wound on the boar’s neck, causing blood to gush out; the boar’s eyes glazed over, dazed and disoriented.

“Thunderclap Palm!”

Cang Luo roared—he was trapped between the tusks but had gained the advantage of position; while the boar was still stunned, he unleashed dozens of palm strikes in an instant.

Each Thunderclap Palm exploded with sound, each strike hammering the boar’s forehead.

Soon, blood poured from all seven orifices, its skull cracked—dead.

Cang Luo shoved aside the boar’s corpse, retrieved the broken sword, and dug out a yellowish-beige beast core from behind its skull; then he painfully hacked off one of the boar’s legs to take and roast.

After finishing, Cang Luo hastily retracted his grappling hook, used satellite surveillance to navigate, and escaped effortlessly, avoiding the encircling beastlings.

Half a month later, May 19th, somewhere in the Beast Forest.

“Boom!”

With the aid of the satellite’s infinite Yuan Qi and Motion Capture, Cang Luo effortlessly smashed a feline beastling to death and, with practiced ease, extracted a green beast core from the back of its skull.

Including the Spear Boar, this was the twenty-fifth first-tier beastling Cang Luo had slain in half a month.

He could have killed more—but this was his first time in the Beast Forest; he dared not fight too frequently, needed time to cultivate, so he only killed twenty-five.

During this period, he obtained twenty-five beast cores, not counting the initial two from the Three-Tailed Giant Scorpion.

Of these, twelve had already been swallowed; his cultivation base reached Warrior Sixth Layer three days ago. The remaining thirteen, he planned not to consume, but to submit as an outer sect task to Master Liang.

Also, he noticed some beast cores still undigested in his body—his body’s reaction to them had grown sluggish, absorption speed significantly reduced.

“Could I be developing resistance to first-tier beast cores?”

Cang Luo murmured to himself—he remembered Xuan Qingqing saying that due to Earth’s human physiology, his cultivation speed would be ten times faster than ordinary Yuanwu Continent warriors.

But that required ample Yuan Qi sources; absorbing natural Yuan Qi alone couldn’t achieve such speed.

He needed to absorb Yuan Stones, consume elixirs or spirit herbs, or swallow beast cores raw.

Of these, absorbing Yuan Stones and consuming elixirs were fastest—combining both was even better; next came spirit herbs; last was swallowing beast cores raw.

But if one ingested large quantities of the same elixir or same-tier beast core in a short time, the body would develop resistance to that elixir or beast core, drastically reducing—or even completely blocking—its efficacy.

Absorbing yuan stones works the same way—prolonged continuous absorption exhausts the body and causes the yuan wheel to reject it, requiring rest.

One must balance work and rest, using various methods to refine this yuan energy, such as combat.

But Cang Luo didn’t know the exact cycle of this tolerance—was it half a month or a month?

“So, before the demonic core inside me is fully digested, there’s no need to keep taking first-tier demonic cores…”

Cang Luo shook his head, feeling somewhat helpless.

It seemed impossible to keep rapidly leveling up by hunting first-tier demonic beasts and consuming their cores.

He needed to switch things up—rotate between yuan stones, elixirs, spiritual herbs, and demonic cores…

After pondering for a long while, Cang Luo packed up the newly dug demonic core and climbed onto a nearby giant cedar branch using his flying claw.

On the branch, his phone was mounted, still recording with the camera on.

Cang Luo retrieved his phone, stopped recording, and opened the video—the footage showed his recent battle with the feline demonic beast.

After a quick glance confirmed it was fine, Cang Luo sent the video to the World Council WeChat group; representatives from every country immediately saved it locally.

This was requested by the leaders of each nation—they wanted Cang Luo to provide combat videos with demonic beasts to study the combat power and various data of otherworldly cultivators and demonic creatures.

Of course, the videos weren’t free—one battle cost one hundred thousand magnesium yuan, and that was per person.

There were over thirty members in the group now—that meant over three million, and payment had to be made promptly.

Once the money arrived, Cang Luo transferred it to his cousin Yang Yongshan, investing it in his factory, company, real estate, and other ventures.

The video was still sending, but Cang Luo didn’t waste any cultivation time—he sat cross-legged on the branch and began practicing his cultivation method, refining the undigested demonic core within him.

But he wasn’t practicing the Thunder Qi Scripture—he was practicing the Body-Annihilating Divine Art.

Cang Luo had originally intended not to cultivate this method, because the cost of using the Body-Annihilating Divine Art was too high, and only the first layer could be cultivated.

But after being injured in one battle, while healing with infinite yuan energy, he suddenly had an epiphany.

Wasn’t the infinite yuan energy that could heal wounds the perfect counter to the Body-Annihilating Divine Art’s cost?

Using the Body-Annihilating Divine Art damaged the body, causing skin to crack, burn, and even internal organs to bleed.

And infinite yuan energy could heal perfectly, eliminating the method’s drawbacks.

Moreover, Cang Luo discovered he could fight while simultaneously using infinite yuan energy to heal.

As long as the healing speed kept pace with the damage inflicted by the Body-Annihilating Divine Art, it was fine—even if it couldn’t keep up, it still reduced the injury.

Thinking of this, Cang Luo was ecstatic, and he pushed the Body-Annihilating Divine Art even harder, eager to master it soon.

He had already completed forty-one circuits; mastering the first layer required seventy-seven circuits—he was close.

As for the ink-blotted sections of the Body-Annihilating Divine Art from the second layer onward, Cang Luo planned to take photos and find an opportunity to send them to Feng Lin Huo Shan, to see if they could restore them.

He thought the chances were slim—photos, not the original artifact, had almost no chance of restoration.

A few days ago, Cang Luo sent the photos to his cousin Yang Yongshan, asking him to find an institution to restore them, but the institution couldn’t do it—they said the original artifact was required.

Could Feng Lin Huo Shan restore it? After all, they’re a national institution!

Their technological capabilities surely far surpassed those of ordinary civilian organizations…