Chapter 440: Could He Still Counterkill?

Kill!

Kill!

Kill!

That night, Jiang Tu's men seemed insane, charging forward without regard for their lives.

Chen Guanlou also went berserk, slashing his way forward.

Aside from rebellion, he had never imagined that in peacetime, beneath the very feet of the Son of Heaven, such unrestrained slaughter could occur.

The Great Gan Dynasty truly was bizarre.

The old emperor was the weirdest of all weirdos.

This was the capital, the very heart of the capital, the central district—and yet two families were allowed to slaughter each other without restraint.

All judicial institutions—the Five City Military Command, the Embroidered Uniform Guard, the Jingzhao Prefecture, even the humble county yamen—had vanished entirely. It was as if this place had always been a lawless no-man's-land.

Unchecked slaughter, piles of corpses, rivers of blood.

The team members, initially paralyzed by fear, gradually grew numb; each time they weren't even aware of it, Chen Guanlou had already killed someone hiding somewhere.

"Is Chen Guanlou really not a martial artist?"

Everyone internally asked the same question.

Only martial artists can kill martial artists.

But Chen Guanlou shattered this iron law.

"Could he be a hidden vein?"

"Impossible! If he were, he'd have been discovered long ago. Besides, hidden veins require a fifth-rank or higher martial artist to open the meridians."

"Then how can he kill martial artists?"

"Could he have had a miracle in the Heavenly Prison?"

"No wonder he refused to leave the Heavenly Prison at all costs."

Chen Guanlou turned back coldly; the team members instantly fell silent and quietly stepped forward to drag the blocking corpses to the roadside—special personnel would collect them later.

"Brother Guan, are you hungry? I brought meat pies—my mom baked them specially."

Chen Guanlou reached out silently; the man fumbled, pulled out a pie, and carefully placed it in his palm.

He ate the pie in silence—perhaps he was truly hungry; it was surprisingly delicious.

He glanced back casually and saw a trace of fear in the team members' eyes, but mostly curiosity.

He waited.

Sure enough, after a while, someone asked him directly, "Are you a martial artist?"

Chen Guanlou thought for a moment—he had no martial meridians, so he was certainly not a martial artist. In this world, the presence of martial meridians was the absolute dividing line; no one could be an exception.

So he shook his head.

"But you can kill martial artists."

"It's just that I'm skilled in martial arts, plus a bit of luck," Chen Guanlou said casually.

Everyone else wore expressions of: Don't lie to me.

Chen Guanlou had to emphasize again, "I have no martial meridians."

It was true—he was not deceiving anyone.

"But you're stronger than those martial artists. Killing them is as easy as cutting vegetables."

"Perhaps Heaven itself couldn't stand Jiang Tu's arrogance and granted me power, making me invincible."

Blow!

Keep blowing!

"Brother Guan, tell us the truth—we swear we won't tell anyone."

"Yes, we swear we won't tell anyone."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Why are you so strong? I've trained since childhood, yet I feel I couldn't block even one of your moves."

"I couldn't even see your techniques."

"I didn't even see how you drew your blade—the man was already dead."

"Same here!"

Chen Guanlou looked up at the sky.

Clouds covered the sky; the moon flickered in and out, and the light shifted accordingly.

He thought for a moment and said, "Why am I so strong? Perhaps because I'm Heaven's favorite, the Son of Heaven himself. Heaven granted me exceptional bones, so I grew strong."

"Fine, don't tell us then."

They were all young men, sincerely asking for advice, yet he gave such a flippant answer. Whatever, it was pointless.

Chen Guanlou felt slighted—he had told the truth, yet no one believed him.

If he weren't Heaven's favorite, how could he possess the Immortal Dao Fruit? If he didn't have superior bones, how could he cultivate the Ascension Scripture?

Others who tried to cultivate the Ascension Scripture faced certain death—it was brutally unforgiving.

"It's still early till dawn—keep patrolling." He was full and satisfied, signaling for everyone to follow him.

One team member, named Chen Mengsan, addressed Chen Guanlou as "Uncle" by family rank.

He stepped close to Chen Guanlou and said, "Uncle Guan, can I learn martial arts from you? I hate studying—I only love fighting."

"If you want to learn martial arts, you should go to the Hou Fu's martial academy—they have professional masters to train you."

"I went, I trained, but I didn't get anywhere. I think my bones are decent—it's just that I took the wrong path. Uncle Guan, could you take a look? Can I learn from you?"

Chen Guanlou turned and stared at him, then reached out and seized his wrist. The man startled, then steadied himself.

Suddenly, a force surged into his body; Chen Mengsan let out a pained groan.

Everyone turned to look; he hurriedly said, "It's fine! Uncle Meng is helping me!"

Soon, Chen Guanlou released his wrist.

Chen Mengsan asked eagerly, "Uncle Guan, how is it? Are my bones decent?"

Chen Guanlou shook his head. "Stick to your books. Or find some other work—don't touch martial arts for the rest of your life."

Not only did he lack martial meridians, his bones were ordinary—completely unsuited for martial cultivation. At best, he could learn a few fake moves and scare the elderly and weak with his youth and strength.

Chen Mengsan looked dejected, slightly resentful. "I really think my bones are decent."

"That's just an illusion," Chen Guanlou coldly shattered his fantasy. Then he pointed to the shortest member of the group. "You can't even match him. Even with fake moves, his techniques are clearly more solid. Your footwork is shaky—you've trained for years and still haven't mastered the basics. Clearly, your bones are ordinary."

Chen Mengsan: …

Chen Yikang, the one called out for solid technique: …

Perhaps because they had gone berserk in the first half of the night, the second half was eerily calm.

Their entire team returned unscathed—not a single injury. The worst anyone suffered was a sprained wrist from hauling corpses.

Other patrol teams weren't so lucky—they didn't have Chen Guanlou, the killing god, among them.

When they met others, they realized how lucky they were to be assigned to Chen Guanlou's team.

Seeing their dead kin and wounded relatives crying out in pain, several members felt both relief and dread.

Jiang Tu was truly insane.

He sent dozens of men to attack the Chen clan in one night.

No one knew what was happening at the Hou Fu's many enterprises—there must have been casualties there too.

"You're all unharmed?"

Seeing them intact, their clansmen were astonished—had they been so lucky they never encountered a single martial artist?

"With Brother Guan here, everyone we met got killed! If you don't believe us, go see—the bodies are piled by the roadside."

The clansmen couldn't believe it.

Chen Guanlou was impressive, but could he really survive a dozen martial artists' assault—and kill them all? Surviving would be sheer luck—how could he reverse-kill them?

Too unbelievable!