Chapter 51: You Look More Able to Take a Beating

After all, it's not the time to go west.

One can mindlessly unleash attacks, yet failing to kill the opponent is merely because the output isn't massive enough.

Tang Luo's injuries have not yet healed.

He has to be careful with his resources.

One must consider how to exert greater combat power within limited strength.

Such matters cannot be understood merely by staying in a room and thinking wildly.

True knowledge must be gained through practice.

As for a target, it's actually not easy to find.

The copper-armored corpse beside him can serve as one.

So, Tang Luo caught it and practiced on it a bit.

The effect was, well, somewhat satisfactory.

He shook the bell in his hand vigorously again, but the copper-armored corpse still showed no reaction.

The corpse handler's perpetually lowered head lifted, revealing a pair of fierce eyes faintly.

"Amitabha." Tang Luo uttered a Buddhist proclamation to indicate his identity, "If you don't need your eyes, donor, you can donate them to those in need."

He gave a slight admonition.

Maybe the opponent will instantly attain Buddhahood.

One should still have dreams.

"Hah..."

The corpse handler merely chuckled, not shaking the bell anymore, "What did you do to my copper-armored corpse?"

"You say this, donor?"

Tang Luo looked at the copper-armored corpse, "The pauper monk has liberated it."

As he spoke, the copper-armored corpse beside him suddenly turned into a pile of powder, falling to the ground, as if it had been cremated.

The corpse handler's eyes widened, and he involuntarily stepped back.

He almost bumped into K, who was shaking his head behind him.

If someone could injure the copper-armored corpse, even cut or tear it apart,

the corpse handler would not find it surprising.

Although the copper-armored corpse is famed as "impervious to blades and spears, immune to water and fire,"

but it also depends on the materials and the corpse-refiner's methods.

This corpse handler's copper-armored corpse is merely resistant to blades and spears, water and fire to a certain extent.

But even if it's only "to a certain extent,"

it still couldn't be directly turned into ashes by a person.

nor is it scorched by high-temperature flames.

The opponent clearly just kept grappling with the copper-armored corpse, occasionally looking for a chance to slap it.

Could slapping it produce such an effect?

Even the Iron Sand Palm doesn't have this kind of power.

"Monk, what martial art do you practice?" the corpse handler asked, his emotions stirred, his speech no longer word by word.

"The Tathagata Divine Palm," Tang Luo said.

"The Tathagata Divine Palm..."

The corpse handler muttered a line, seemingly wanting to engrave this martial art, capable of slapping the copper-armored corpse into powder, completely into his mind.

"Then, I hope you, donor, can endure longer than that zombie."

Tang Luo stepped forward.

A gust of cold wind blew past.

The moonlight suddenly dimmed considerably, and a thin layer of black mist suddenly shrouded the air.

Tang Luo stopped his steps and looked to the right.

The corpse handler also looked in the same direction.

Then he immediately knelt down, kneeling on the ground, and shouted loudly, "Welcome, sir!"

At the terminus, along with that gust of cold wind,

there appeared one more person.

A pallid-faced man, as white as if soaked in water for three days and three nights, holding a kerosene lamp in his hand.

He wore a blue robe, with an embroidered character resembling a pattern on his left chest.

For those godlike wanderers who inherently understand languages,

it can be easily seen that this is the character "Feng."

The Feng from Fengmen Village.

The black aura spreading from the corpse handler's severed arm completely retracted.

The pale-faced man ignored the corpse handler, his gaze continually shifting between K and Tang Luo.

"Sir?" the corpse handler ventured cautiously.

"I want it." the pale-faced man said.

"Yes!"

The corpse handler immediately crawled to K's side, drawing some black energy from him.

At the same time, he secretly rejoiced that he had not actually acted to refine the person before him.

Otherwise, I would probably become the "soil" of the "Longevity Mushroom".

The corpse qi rampaging inside my body was drained away.

K gradually recovered, limbs still somewhat weak, but at least the head wasn't dizzy anymore.

If not dizzy, I could see a white-faced man in front of me, looking at me.

That gaze made K break out in goosebumps all over.

It was not fear, but a chill.

The white-faced man's eyes held delight, fondness, and joy, showing his satisfaction and liking for K.

But this liking is not the liking between people.

It is more like a butcher looking at the pig awaiting slaughter in front of him, feeling that this pig, regardless of size or fatness, is very suitable.

Whether sold for money or eaten oneself after slaughter, this kind of "liking" could bring great profit.

K felt that, in the white-faced man's eyes, he was nothing but a pig awaiting slaughter.

K's teeth began to clack uncontrollably up and down.

K's spirit was on the verge of collapse, frantically probing.

Obviously, he too had experienced several missions, struggled on the brink of life and death, as a god and demon wanderer.

K also didn't understand why he was so fearful and afraid.

Emotions that could not be restrained surged like a tide, striking the dam of reason.

Past experiences, experience, accumulation—all were fed to the dogs.

"Let... let me go."

K said stammeringly.

"Good." The white-faced man laughed, reaching out to stroke K's head, just like stroking a pet dog, "I won't kill you."

Upon hearing those words, K's whole body relaxed.

K almost collapsed onto the ground.

He won't kill him?

What a wonderful word.

"However, only one of you two can live." The white-faced man suddenly pointed at Tang Luo, smiling as he said.

K's grateful, tearful expression froze.

What does that mean?

Only one can live.

Why would he ask such a question?

Do we even need to ask?

"I! I! I am willing to submit, my lord!" K almost roared.

We aren't sworn brothers in life and death; we just happened to team up to complete the mission.

Don't say only one can live.

Killing everyone else to let himself survive, K would do so without hesitation.

"Good, this is exactly the 'soil' I want." The white-faced man said a sentence K didn't understand, "Then get up, go kill him, kill him, and only then can you live."

The sinful "soil", a "flower pot" where various negative emotions condense.

Only then can more, stronger, and special Longevity Mushrooms be cultivated.

Between these two outsiders, whoever can survive will be qualified to become the "Living Body Pot".

The one who dies can only become an ordinary petri dish.

Only those who survive have the right to "live on".

Becoming the Living Body Pot of the Longevity Mushroom is a "grace" bestowed by the Feng Family.

"Good, but I now..."

K hesitated.

K's current state is not good; not only has he lost his skills, but his limbs are also weak.

Where would any fighting power come from?

That Xuanzang is no ordinary person.

Even if K had skills, without a sneak attack he would not be a match for him.

It's not that our side isn't trying; it's that the enemy is too strong.

"It's fine, I can give you a little help." The white-faced man seemed very easy to talk to.

Then he opened his mouth, widening it enough to fit an adult's fist.

Inside was a pitch-black void; K couldn't even see the tongue and teeth.

Taking a closer look, K discovered that the black hole in his mouth was "moving".

It was slowly oozing out bit by bit.

"Urgh!"

With an obvious retching sound, something was spat onto the ground by the white-faced man.

It was a mushroom.

At least it was a plant shaped like a mushroom, or rather a fungus?

K had never seen such a mushroom before—pitch black all over, with iridescent colors flickering on the cap.

"Eat it." K pointed to the vomited corpse mushroom, the Longevity Mushroom said.

"Ah?"

K was visibly stunned for a moment.

You ate it?

"Huh?" The white-faced man's gentle tone shifted, his pitch rising.

I ate it!

K immediately picked up the longevity mushroom and stuffed it into his mouth.

Amid the corpse-chaser's complex gaze—tinged with envy, jealousy, and sympathy—he swallowed it whole, gulp after gulp.

Is this black mushroom poisonous?

K didn't care.

All he wanted was to get through these few hours.

Once he made it through, it would truly be the sky high and birds free to fly.

After the preliminary "Gods and Demons" treatment, even any side effects could be alleviated and suppressed.

Then use real-world medicine to resolve it.

In reality, K is a wealthy person, not lacking money for that treatment.

What he lacks is merely a chance to survive.

Go on.

The white-faced man stood up, said to K, and then glanced at Tang Luo, who was watching the excitement nearby, "You seem quite confident?"

Amitabha.

Tang Luo said, "Sir, what brings you to say this?"

"Well, I'm increasingly certain that my setup was ruined by you." The white-faced man said, his face suddenly turning ferocious, "So! You cannot live!"

While speaking, K stood up, looked at Tang Luo, and said, "Monk, don't blame me."

No blame.

Tang Luo said.

Sacrificing oneself for righteousness, turning death into benevolence—this is not something everyone can do.

Death is just bitter suffering; why bother assigning blame?

Then I'll first send you to meet your Buddha.

K's eyes turned completely blood-red.

The black mushroom he had swallowed turned into surging streams of power that coursed through his whole body.

K felt that if he didn't release this power, he would likely burst apart and die.

If you really can do that, that'd be great.

Tang Luo said, and launched a palm strike from midair.

Empty Palm!

The K who had just rushed within ten meters of Tang Luo shuddered and was flung backward.

He fell in front of the white-faced man.

His blood-red eyes widened, his ferocious expression still frozen on his face.

Although his body remained intact, he was already dead beyond death.

However, K's corpse showed no sign of the skill's aura that Sun Ang's had.

The white-faced man looked at Tang Luo, his eyes somewhat surprised.

"Who's next, benefactor, planning to be first liberated by this poor monk?" Tang Luo said, a smile appearing on his face.

Killing K gains little merit power, merely symbolic.

If you want to kill me, I'll kill you; that counts more as karmic retribution.

But the corpse-chaser and the white-faced man of the Feng family are different.

Liberating these two will certainly yield merit power.

At the very least, it's on the order of +999.

"Sir, I'll go!"

The corpse-chaser stood up and offered his service.

Opportunities like this don't come often—

"Good."

Tang Luo appeared beside the corpse-chaser, turning his side toward him.

Without even looking, he casually swung a palm at him.

The corpse-chaser's chest instantly caved in, his upper body almost becoming a sheet of paper.

His body flew backward, hitting the bus, which then struck the iron gate.

Accompanied by several loud booms.

The bus, now a heap of scrap metal, rolled over the fallen iron gate.

On the road outside the iron gate, it emitted a sharp scraping sound.

As for the corpse-chaser, he was reduced to fragments in the impact.

Even the world's finest undertaker, a corpse‑sewer, could not restore him.

"Not as tough as a bronze‑clad corpse." Tang Luo gave an accurate assessment, looking at the white‑faced man, "You look a bit more resistant to beating."

Having a newer, better‑looking punching bag.

The former one is no longer satisfactory.

He's just that kind of person who likes the new and tires of the old.