Chapter 35: Cursed Spirit Pottery Jar (Seeking Monthly Tickets, Seeking Follow-up Reads)

As the voice fell,

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Among the passengers in the carriage, two figures—one old and one young—exchanged a glance and suddenly bolted out.

"Split up and run!"

Taking advantage of the fact that the others hadn't reacted yet, they ran in opposite directions.

They were grandfather and grandson.

The grandfather was named Zhou Qian, and the grandson was named Zhou Yin.

When Zhou Qian was chosen by the River of History, he was already fifty years old; he was a genuine farmer who had encountered several Shadows of the Displaced in a Sickness Domain, which had scared him so badly his legs went weak.

He crawled and scrambled into a cellar and hid for several days, but there was no food inside, and he was truly too hungry; hardening his heart, he simply picked up a hoe and beat a lone Shadow of the Displaced to death, completing the mission.

Although the rating he received was very low, he still became a History Walker.

He obtained a historical item—the Cursed Spirit Pottery Jar.

As long as one offered flesh and blood, one could command the cursed spirit inside.

Zhou Qian was afraid of these supernatural, ghostly things and thought about sealing it away forever, but...

Heaven does not always grant one's wishes.

Because the plot of land he was allocated was in a better location, the local village bully wanted to forcibly swap with him; he didn't agree, and the result was that he was frequently harassed.

Most crucially, the village bully used low-handed tactics like splashing dog blood, which was disgusting, and even reporting it to the Public Security Bureau only resulted in a warning for the other party.

The most terrifying thing is a hooligan with an education.

After multiple failed negotiations, Zhou Qian could no longer endure it and went to the bully's house to reason with him, only to be fiercely humiliated by the other party, who declared he would torture him until he knelt and begged for mercy.

Yet, he did not know that when one carries a sharp weapon, the intent to kill arises on its own.

Zhou Qian hardened his heart and fed his own chickens, ducks, livestock, and even the guard dog he had raised for many years to the cursed spirit in the jar.

The next day,

He saw that the arrogant and domineering village bully had died suddenly in his bathtub.

Because the cursed spirit's ability was very secretive, even the forensic examiner didn't see any issues, assuming it was an accident.

At that moment, an inexplicable emotion sprouted in Zhou Qian's heart.

Humans, it turned out, were so fragile.

And then...

He became the new village bully.

He began to come into contact with the extraordinary world, and by using his ability and connections, he wantonly encroached on land, exploited the villagers, and amassed quite a bit of wealth; there were those who refused to submit to him, but they were all eliminated by the cursed spirit, and thus he became a local tyrant.

He married several concubines and had many children.

Later, relying on the Cursed Spirit Jar, he survived several desolate-era Sickness Domains and successfully advanced to the peak of Spirit Opening.

Because his background was that of a farmer, he compared himself to Zhu Yuanzhang, feeling that he was endowed with a mandate from heaven.

But soon, the problem arose.

The cursed spirit's appetite grew larger and larger; ordinary livestock could no longer satisfy it, and it began to demand living people. Zhou Qian had no choice but to feed it some homeless vagrants, but he also understood...

This was not a long-term solution.

It wasn't that his conscience had awakened, but rather that he was afraid of being discovered by the History Correction Bureau and being liquidated.

So he conceived the idea of cultivating his descendants, developing his family to serve himself, and having them provide resources to help him advance to the Dao Foundation or even the Dharma Seed realm.

Unfortunately... all his sons were useless.

Among his many grandsons, there were some who were well-behaved and sensible, but only Zhou Yin, who was reckless, lawless, and nearly ended up in a juvenile detention center, had any aptitude.

It was only after he exhausted more than half of his net worth that he barely awakened his spirituality.

He only needed to wait for the summons of the River of History to receive his reward.

Today, it was for the sake of helping his grandson deal with his first Sickness Domain that Zhou Qian had come to the Dharma Assembly to purchase special items.

He just hadn't expected to be so unlucky.

'That guy on the mountain of corpses called the Fly Child has a more oppressive presence than any sickness-mutated creature I have ever seen; he is definitely a great demon in human skin, or some old monster who has regained his youth.

Staying behind means certain death; fortunately, these people are scared witless and are frozen in place, so they can help attract fire.'

Zhou Qian sneered in his heart.

Every man for himself, or heaven and earth will destroy you.

"Ahhhhh! It hurts, Grandfather, save me!"

However, a massive swarm of flies quickly surrounded the slightly slower Zhou Yin, pouncing on him and biting frantically; his wails echoed through the woods.

"Grandson!"

Hearing the screams, Zhou Qian looked back, his eyes splitting with rage, and then...

He took out two low-grade God-Speed Talismans he had just spent a large sum of money to buy at the Five Vicious Dharma Assembly.

Sticking them to his legs allowed one to travel a thousand miles in a day.

They were originally bought for Zhou Yin to help him survive the Sickness Domain...

'Forgive me, Yin'er, as long as I survive, there is still hope for the Zhou family!'

Zhou Qian's face was ferocious, but his heart felt no great anger; instead, he felt a bit of relief.

From the very beginning, running separately from his grandson was nominally to preserve the family line, but in reality...

Young flesh and blood is always more tempting than an old man like him, and it could buy more time.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

The God-Speed Talismans activated, and his figure suddenly accelerated.

"I haven't even said the game has started yet; prey is not allowed to run around."

The Fly Child's eerie voice drifted over:

"Fly Slash!"

Zhou Qian ignored the latter and charged forward with his head down, but his body suddenly lost its balance, and he fell heavily to the ground, while a sharp pain shot through his feet.

"My feet... are gone?!"

Looking down, he discovered that his feet had been cleanly severed, blood flowing freely and staining the ground, scaring him until his whole body trembled.

Seeing this, Fatty exclaimed, "There's something under the tree shade over there."

The crowd looked over and discovered that in the patch of dark tree shade where Zhou Qian had passed, a group of flies was arranged in a straight line, hovering at a low altitude; their sharp wings, stained with blood, vibrated at high speed, flashing with a cold light.

Seen from afar, it looked like a kite string already set up, waiting for a high-speed object to deliver itself to it.

The crowd felt a chill run down their spines; this was just severed feet, if it had been a little higher, it would have been...

Decapitation!

Moreover, the number of flies was too great, and the woods were noisy, making it impossible to see which corner they were hiding in.

It was impossible to guard against.

This small grove had already become a large-scale trap.

"Please, let me go, you've already eaten my grandson, there's a whole crowd of people over there you can eat, I'm already very old, I don't taste good..."

Feeling his life force constantly draining away, Zhou Qian begged for mercy with tears and snot streaming down his face.

The Fly Child remarked with emotion, "The wailing of the weak is truly the most beautiful music in this world."

As he spoke, he closed his eyes, tilted his head slightly, and wore an expression of enjoyment.

"If you want to kill me, I'll make you go down with me!"

Seeing that begging for mercy was fruitless, Zhou Qian's expression changed from fear to ruthlessness; he pulled a palm-sized ceramic jar from his bosom and roared:

"You've always wanted to eat my flesh and blood, haven't you? As long as you let me live, I'll give it all to you."

Click, click, click!

As the voice fell, Zhou Qian's flesh and blood withered at a speed visible to the naked eye, taking on the appearance of a dried corpse.

The jar opened, and a black cursed spirit aura spread out, instantly causing the temperature within dozens of meters to plummet; from within it emerged a black, rusted nail.

It instantly pulverized the many flies that approached and whistled toward the Fly Child.

Once it hit, death was certain!

Zhou Qian laughed maniacally: "Go to hell!"

However, the black nail was inches from the Fly Child when it was pinched between two fingers, and no matter how it struggled, it could not move at all.

Zhou Qian's smile froze on his face, and he muttered:

"Impossible..."

"So it's a cursed item created by a carpenter-sorcerer from the old days who sacrificed himself to take revenge on his master's family.

Now that it has eaten quite a bit of flesh and blood, it has leveled up by successfully devouring its master, approaching the Dao Foundation realm.

Although I was also injured when I came out of Shaolao Mountain, but..."

"An ant that becomes stronger is still an ant."

The Fly Child whispered, his fingers exerting a little force, crushing the black nail curse, which instantly dissipated into an airflow.

Then, he flicked his hand casually.

The flies transformed into a long whip and lashed down, directly splitting the pottery jar and Zhou Qian in two.

"Ahhh!"

The cursed spirit inside the pottery jar wailed incessantly before finally dissipating into black mist.

Killed in one blow!

Throughout the entire process, the Fly Child's expression remained calm, as if he had just pinched an insect to death, and he turned his head to look at the remaining dozen or so passengers.

A mere glance made everyone feel as if they had fallen into an ice cellar.

A peak Spirit Opening realm cultivator, who burned their own life to gain combat power approaching the Dao Foundation realm, was crushed to death with a casual flick.

A demon of this level,

even if they joined forces, could not be defeated!

Unless...

They placed their final hope on the coachmen; as long as they waited for reinforcements from the Five Fiends Dharma Assembly to arrive, they could be saved.

The coachman numbered "Four" kept swatting at the flies on his body, his expression grim as he said:

"The sound transmission talismans have all been defiled by these flies through self-detonation; they can no longer be used."

"It's over!"

The crowd fell into despair.

One middle-aged man among them said with a grim expression:

"Then how was the previous message sent out..."

"I did it."

A voice came from the woods, and the coachman wearing the mask numbered "Ten" walked out; the skin on his arm was deathly pale and covered in eerie blue veins, no longer looking like that of a human.

"I have already been parasitized; the Fly Child controlled my body to send those messages, I didn't want to..."

He forced an ugly smile, opened his mouth, and the sound that emerged was like a multitude of flies buzzing together as he struggled to say:

"Do not put up any futile resistance; the entire forest has been sealed off by the fly swarm, there is no way to escape, and electronic devices have no signal. Commit suicide, otherwise you will only please it..."

Before he could finish speaking, the coachman numbered "Ten" was slapped away by a palm formed of flies, slamming heavily into a tree trunk, vomiting a large amount of insect eggs, and falling unconscious.

"Do not speak unnecessary words."

The Fly Child looked at the despairing crowd and said with a smile:

"Although I need to eat you to recover from my injuries, prey that is too despairing is too boring to kill. How about this..."

"Kill each other until only one final victor remains, and I will let that person leave alive!"

(End of chapter)