Chapter 269: I Sit on the Clouds Looking Down, and You Still Dare to Shout?

Tsk.

Su Ming still sits steadily in the C seat, not even raising his eyelids.

Facing Zuo Jin's almost nose‑pointing pressure and provocation, he acts like an outsider.

No rage, no rebuttal.

He doesn't even have the inclination to switch the crossed leg to the other side.

He just quietly stares blankly at the glazed lantern on the ceiling.

Ignore!

He interprets the phrase "no one in his eyes" to the extreme.

It's like a god perched on the clouds, completely unable to hear the buzzing of flies beneath his feet.

I stay silent, not because I'm afraid of you.

But because… you don't deserve it.

A pimp who made his start selling fake medicine, also worthy of speaking with me?

Want to ride my hype?

Pah!

"Hehe."

Onstage, Zuo Jin's Smile Mask stiffened behind the mask.

Very displeased!

That feeling is like a punch landing on cotton.

Not only does it not hurt anyone, it also makes him stumble.

"Good, very good."

"Since ordinary inanimate objects cannot move the esteemed guest's cold heart…"

"Then let's bring something warm."

"Let's have… truly living works of art!"

Snap!

A finger snap.

The theater's previously warm, ambiguous lighting went out instantly.

A cold wind rose suddenly.

Dong! Dong! Dong!

Heavy footsteps, as if stepping on a person's heart.

Four towering maids, yet without facial features.

Straining, they lift a black long case onto the stage.

The case, entirely made of cypress wood, is covered with yellow talismans and a blood‑red seal, exuding a corpse‑like stench.

The most terrifying part is—

The case is moving!

It seems some living thing was forcibly shoved inside, frantically pounding the wood, trying to burst out of its coffin.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

With each impact, black‑red viscous blood seeps from the case's cracks, dripping onto the floor.

"This is…"

In the paid livestream, countless Audience members instinctively moved a little farther from the screen.

It's not just fear; it's also a physiological discomfort.

That chilling aura feels like something filthy breathing beside you!

"What the hell! What the heck is this thing? A living person?!"

"This movement… doesn't sound human! Like some starving, mad beast!"

"I have a feeling, if this thing is released, sizzle, blood will flow like a river!"

"Redundant, no need for you to say it!"

Live.

Zuo Jin stands beside the case, inhaling a mouth‑wateringly nauseating blood scent, and opens his arms in ecstasy.

"Ladies and gentlemen."

"In today's world, external things remain external."

"Armor can shatter, swords can break; they require our own maintenance!"

"But if… weapons gained life?"

Before the words finish.

He directly reaches out and rips the blood‑red seal off the case!

"Roar—!!!"

A chilling roar erupts, blasting the entire venue!

Bang—!

The cypress case shatters explosively, wood chips scattering.

Inside there is no golden light, no aura of treasure.

Only a lump… of rotting flesh still writhing!

"Hey!!!"

Onstage, Zuo Jin let out a mocking laugh, his hand's silk thread dancing.

The rotten flesh before them, under everyone's watchful eyes, began to stretch, shape, and harden.

The white bones formed the spine, turning into a blade.

The meridians became strings, turning into the blade edge.

The flesh and blood became the sheath, wrapping around it.

Only a few seconds.

A two‑meter‑long, grotesquely fierce nodachi appeared before the crowd!

The blade bore no cold metallic sheen.

Instead it was covered with dense, faintly pulsating cyan veins.

At the guard, a Ghost Eye streaked with blood veins was inlaid!

Gulu… Gulu…

The Ghost Eye spun wildly, staring fixedly at every living person below the stage.

The greed and hunger in its gaze were unmistakable.

"Glug—!"

In the corner of the Sakura Nation Camp.

Several senior fighters stared straight ahead.

It wasn't fear.

It was excitement!

Over here, they fundamentally revere swords and blades!

This sword looks disgusting and ominous.

But the murderous aura that hit them was truly palpable!

That is…

The taste of power!

As long as they can obtain it, these side effects are nothing!

"【Symbiotic Demon Soldier·Ghost Cutter】!"

Zuo Jin's voice rang out at the right moment, and he reached out, grasping the still‑bleeding hilt.

Zii—!

An aberration surged!

From the hilt sprouted countless tiny flesh tendrils.

Like blood‑sucking leeches, they pierced Zuo Jin's palm hard.

The fresh blood was drawn, and the blade instantly turned a dripping scarlet.

But Zuo Jin felt no pain, only a look of enjoyment.

"Did you see that?"

"Traditional weapons are just dead iron, but this sword… is alive!"

"Forged from the spines of a hundred great swordsmen in the fire of the Purgatory, and finally infused with the great demon residual soul called Ghost Cutter!"

Swish—!

Zuo Jin waved his hand casually.

Without invoking any ability, relying solely on the blade's sharpness.

In the air, a black vacuum slash was torn, lingering unhealed for a long time!

"So fast!"

In the corner, Liu Sheng Jian Ying's pupils contracted sharply, and the sword in his hand almost slipped from his grip.

He is an expert in swords and blades!

Even he failed to see the trajectory of that slash!

How could one slash wield such power?!

"As long as you let it parasitize your arm, it will become an integral part of your body!"

Zuo Jin stroked the still‑pulsing blade, his movements exceedingly gentle.

"It needs no maintenance, because it feeds on its own."

"It doesn't require you to be a master swordsman, for it possesses the muscle memory of those hundred great swordsmen!"

"It can not only cut everything, but also devour flesh to nourish its master!"

"Wear it, and you become a walking sword saint!"

"This kind of opportunity to become stronger just by lying down…"

"Everyone, are you still hesitating?"