Chapter 200: The Medicine Slave's Lament

On the altar floated a crystal roughly the size of a human head, its whole body showing an eerie black‑red hue, with fine arcs of electricity flickering across its surface, emitting a palpitation‑inducing energy fluctuation—this must be the 'Heart of the Earth Vein Stabilizer'.

Around the altar stood more than a dozen black‑robed men exchanging words. Each had a slight bulge at the temples, clearly top‑notch experts of the Shadow Organization, far superior to the petty foes encountered before.

The conversation of those few from the Shadow Organization was word‑for‑word, crystal clear, reaching the ears of Zhang Jun and Lin Xue.

Zhang Jun's brows knotted into a lump; these sons of bitches never utter a decent word!

Du Wu Ren's thin, sharp voice rang out again, laced with an indescribable smarminess: 'That Medicine Slave thing has been getting less and less obedient lately. Especially that batch of 'materials' we sent last time—supposedly snatched from some clueless sect, its blood‑qi impure and mixed—it caused a ruckus all night, the disturbance nearly messing up the Stabilizer's operation! It forced me to go personally to placate it, almost stirring up a stink!'

The tall man's voice was low, carrying an unquestionable authority: 'Go fetch some live ones again. Remember, it's best to pick cultivators with solid foundation—their energy is pure enough, and the Medicine Slave will feast on them gladly. If we screw this up, when the master blames us, neither of us will get away lightly!'

'Saying that so lightly!' Du Wu Ren's tone showed clear dissatisfaction, barely concealed jealousy: 'But that thing's appetite is getting pickier and harder to please. Before, tossing it some scraps would do, but now it won't eat unless it's live, jumping cultivators. The more you give, the greedier it gets. Last month we fed it three cultivators who had gone berserk from cultivation, their essence nearly drained, and only then did it calm for a few days; now it's acting up again. If this continues, are there any decent cultivators left near the capital to stuff between its teeth?'

Zhang Jun and Lin Xue exchanged a glance; both understood.

This Medicine Slave is absolutely a wicked thing to the core.

Lin Xue edged close to Zhang Jun, her breath lightly brushing his ear, her voice lowered to a whisper: 'The jade slip left by Master Shouyi records that the Shadow Organization uses an extremely wicked secret art—depriving living people of their consciousness, then refining them with a secret elixir to turn them into half‑human, half‑medicine monsters, called Medicine Slaves. These Medicine Slaves specialize in producing an evil medicinal power for the Heart of the Earth Vein Stabilizer to absorb, keeping it running. The method is cruel, utterly inhumane.'

No sooner had she finished speaking than Zhang Jun's palm flicked, producing two flying knives gleaming with cold light. He fixed his gaze on the black‑robed men around the altar, his mind racing, calculating from which direction to charge in and strike the Stabilizer hard.

Lin Xue, however, tugged lightly at his sleeve and whispered: 'No, there are too many people. That tall man and Du Wu Ren have unfathomable cultivation; a head‑on rush would gain us nothing and only alert them.'

Zhang Jun pointed to a particularly dark corner in the southeast of the cave, where only two guards were dozing against the stone wall, their weapons tossed aside, looking lax: 'That side has the fewest people. We'll sneak over, take those two out, swap into their clothes, then figure a way to approach the altar.' This method is a bit old‑fashioned, but it's the safest right now.

Lin Xue nodded lightly, pulling several packets of differently colored powders from her bosom, and whispered: 'The blue is confusion powder, the red is weakness powder, the white is itching powder… I'll use the powders to disturb their senses; you look for a chance to strike.'

The two lowered their bodies, using the rocks for cover, made no sound as they slipped into the shadow of the southeast corner, and waited patiently for an opportunity.

The night grew deeper; the swaying torches in the cave cast wavering shadows, making the already dim cavern even more gloomy and obscuring details. The faint 'crackle' of the burning torches was the only sound at the moment.

Just as a black‑robed guard could hold back no longer, letting out a big yawn and rubbing his sleepy eyes—the moment his spirit was most lax—Lin Xue flicked her wrist, and a packet of pale‑blue powder slipped out soundlessly, turning into a barely visible mist that rode the airflow and swiftly drifted toward the several black‑robed men.

Several nearby black‑robed men almost simultaneously rubbed their eyes, feeling their vision blur, seeing double, their minds fogging. One even foolishly lifted a hand to try to grasp the wavering shadow before him, muttering: 'Weird, why am I seeing two moons tonight…'

Now!

Zhang Jun exploded forward, the Yang Jade light in his palm retracting as pure yang true qi flooded his right fist. His movement was absurdly fast, hardly stirring a breeze.

'Mmm—'

The easternmost black‑robed man, still staring at the 'moon,' let out a short, strangled grunt from his throat; he hadn't even reacted before Zhang Jun's fist, charged with the force of a thousand jin, smashed solidly into the back of his neck!

The force pierced skin and flesh, instantly snapping his cervical bone.

Zhang Jun clenched his fingers, precisely sealing the black‑robed man's throat without letting out a sound, then dragged him into the deeper shadow. The whole motion was one fluid, clean action.

Taking advantage of the brief commotion, Lin Xue tossed out several more packets of differently colored powders. The black‑robed men who inhaled them worsened: some went limp, sliding down the wall with softened bones; others writhed all over, faces twisted, obviously unable to bear the itch, yet dared not cry out loud, only sucking air through clenched teeth, their movements slowing and their minds growing dull.

The pair worked together flawlessly, silently taking out five black‑robed men in quick succession, the whole process as fast as lightning without making a noticeable sound. Zhang Jun even snatched a robe from a hapless victim, shook it out, and gestured to Lin Xue.

Just as they were about to deal with the sixth target—a black‑robed man who looked somewhat thin—he suddenly turned around! He had inhaled only a little of the powder, merely feeling something was off.

In his hand now gleamed a dagger with an eerie purple light, its shape strange and excessively curved.

'A rat!'

The thin black‑robed man let out a piercing, grating scream; his dagger sliced the air, emitting a sharp whistle as it thrust straight for Zhang Jun's chest—this guy's reaction was not slow.

Zhang Jun reacted even faster, twisting his body sharply to barely dodge the deadly blade; the dagger scraped past his ribs, the resulting gust making his skin tingle. He followed through with a vicious elbow strike, slamming hard into the opponent's chest.

'Bang!'

A muffled thud.

Surprisingly, the thin black‑robed man wasn't knocked down by that elbow; he merely grunted and staggered.