Chapter 52: Chapter Fifty-Two: Vegetative State? Mushroom Spirit?

The pale-faced man looked at the dead K beside his feet.

He also looked over at the corpse-chaser who was nowhere to be found over there, and said, "It seems the Longevity Mist is useless against you."

"Longevity Mist?"

Tang Luo said, "Isn't it just fungal spores? Why say it so nicely?"

On K's corpse, in his mouth, a tiny mushroom had already sprouted.

"Hah."

The pale-faced man gave no comment on Tang Luo's address.

The surrounding black mist had unknowingly become thicker than before.

That's what was said.

But does it really have no effect?

The pale-faced man didn't believe it; there was no effect, just because the dosage and concentration weren't enough!

Those who don't take concentration as a standard and only talk about effects are just playing tricks.

When the concentration reaches a certain level, even he himself would be affected.

He didn't believe that the monk before him would come out unscathed!

Tang Luo waved his hand twice in front of his eyes.

The surrounding black mist had already begun to affect visibility.

The pale-faced man retreated silently, about to disappear into the black mist.

Tang Luo glanced at him and said nothing.

If you want to hide, just hide.

And you're holding a kerosene lamp, afraid others won't know where you're hiding?

The lamp's halo swayed in the black mist.

Like it was hanging from a rocking small boat.

Tang Luo stirred up a gust of black mist, walked toward the lamp's direction; upon approaching, he discovered that the pale-faced man had vanished at some point.

The one holding the lamp turned out to be Mi Ke.

To be precise, it was Mi Ke's corpse.

Standing motionless, holding that kerosene lamp.

Tang Luo struck out, physically disintegrating Mi Ke, thereby letting her "be freed".

Having taken over the lamp, Tang Luo slowly walked in the black mist.

The surrounding black mist was becoming increasingly intense.

Soon it reached the point where you couldn't see your hand in front of your face.

If outside the black mist, one could see the scene inside the terminus.

The space within about three meters around Tang Luo was completely enveloped by the black mist.

It almost formed a black sphere.

It moved with Tang Luo's movement.

Outside the black mist was the pale-faced man.

From his wide, hanging sleeves, black mist continually poured out.

Maintaining the scale of the black mist.

"Go on, keep circling! I want to see how long you can hold out!"

The pale-faced man thought to himself:

He saw Tang Luo walking straight; not to mention circling, his direction didn't deviate at all.

"How is that possible!"

The pale-faced man showed surprise, almost stepping back to indicate his surprise.

Fortunately, as he gradually approached the wall and was about to collide, Tang Luo's forward direction finally changed, turning to the right.

It began to feel like he was circling inside the terminus.

"Hah! It's working! You stupid bald donkey!"

The pale-faced man cursed under his breath.

The strength the monk had just displayed indeed made his heart race.

One could say the two were facing off directly.

He was no match for that white-clad monk.

But the monk was arrogantly overconfident, actually "testing the mist with his body".

Then it's not his fault.

Once the Longevity Mist takes effect, the scales of victory will begin to tilt continually toward him.

"You will become my best living vessel."

The pale-faced man showed a smile.

Five minutes later.

"Not successful yet?"

The black mist emanating from the pale-faced man's sleeves had already become quite thin.

Maintaining the black mist concentration around Tang Luo had become extremely strained.

The "spores" of the Longevity Mushroom are certainly not a zombie virus, nor some unscientific cure for a zombie virus——

A small bottle thrown on the ground instantly caused a large area around it to collapse.

Then the whole world was affected.

In such an environment, it is not sealed, and there is no longevity mushroom to gather the spores back around oneself.

The 'black mist' will only keep evaporating.

If the white-faced man stops maintaining it, it will completely dissipate in about five minutes.

Just then, Tang Luo, who had been walking, suddenly stopped.

Success!

The white-faced man instantly felt delighted.

None left?

From the 'black sphere' came Tang Luo's question.

'What?' the white-faced man blinked, instinctively asking back.

'No other techniques left?' Tang Luo said, 'For example, sucking all this black mist back in, swallowing it, to strengthen one's own power.'

Will the Flame-Killing Black Dragon Wave work?

It seems not. Tang Luo said with a hint of regret.

He clasped his hands before his chest, not in a Buddhist salute, but a clap.

His clothes snapped in the wind, and the gale spread outward from him, blowing toward all directions.

Sand and stones flew; the surrounding black mist completely dissipated, blown away entirely.

Tang Luo lowered his hand, looked at the white-faced man, and gave a slight nod.

Your new sandbag is now online.

The white-faced man abruptly retreated, not having time to make any other moves.

A palm print landed on his chest.

Huh?

A flicker of surprise flashed in Tang Luo's eyes.

The sensation from the palm pressed on the white-faced man's chest was not that of a strike.

The feedback from the palm was the two words 'soft'.

It felt like patting an unknown soft, fluffy object.

Not only that, there was also a rebound force.

If the force of this slap were 10, the actual damage inflicted on the white-faced man would probably be under 5.

The white-faced man retreated several steps, barely managing to steady himself.

Tang Luo, meanwhile, looked at his own hand, then at the white-faced man.

His chest showed a noticeable dent, but that dent was recovering at a visible speed.

Like a balloon being blown up.

Yes, it's not just recovering.

It's also expanding.

In a moment, the white-faced man expanded into a little giant over three meters tall.

Not a muscular man.

But a fat person, like a meatball.

The wide cyan-white robe clung tightly to his body without being torn.

Obviously, it's the same material as the Hulk's pants.

After expanding, the white-faced man's skin was stretched to its limit.

It even had a faint sense of transparency.

And beneath the skin, what flickered was not flesh and blood, but a mass of black substance.

It was impossible to see clearly what it was.

'Ah!' the white-faced man roared, spitting a mouthful of black poison from his enlarged mouth.

Tang Luo shifted his body sideways.

The poison fell to the ground, corroding the sandy stone surface into a small pit.

A foul white smoke rose.

At the instant the poison hit the ground, the white-faced man already charged toward Tang Luo.

A true flesh-and-blood war chariot.

Tang Luo did not dodge or evade, and struck out with a palm.

It landed on the white-faced man's bulging torso.

It didn't send him flying; instead, Tang Luo's forearm, along with his palm, sank straight into him.

The white-faced man carried Tang Luo forward as he charged.

Tang Luo retreated while slightly pulling his arm outward, instantly feeling endless resistance.

Not only that, there was also a rotating force.

It seemed to want to twist Tang Luo's arm off!

The white-faced man revealed a ferocious grin.

He raised both hands.

Originally, due to his expansion, his hands could not reach Tang Luo, but they strangely elongated, reaching out to grab him.

This eerie, infiltrating fighting style.

It had completely left the realm of normal humans.

Unable to dodge, Tang Luo sank his body and simultaneously raised his right arm in the face of this attack.

The white-faced man's body swayed, his feet left the ground, and Tang Luo turned the tables, lifting him up as if he were a small child, completely raising him.

Then he slammed him down hard onto the ground.

Stone fragments flew.

The body, like a rubber ball, transmitted a considerable recoil force.

And this recoil force, through the transformation of this special body, became the white-faced man's counterattack force.

Tang Luo could feel that the compressive, rotational force transmitted to his palm and forearm had increased somewhat.

Even a steel rod would probably be twisted into a knot at this point.

"This kind of sandbag won't do."

Tang Luo frowned and twisted his right hand in the opposite direction of the strangling force!

The erupting power instantly exceeded the white-faced man's limit of endurance.

A huge wound appeared on his chest.

His swollen body also shriveled.

As Tang Luo pulled back his hand, the white-faced man retreated a few steps with an incredulous expression and knelt on the ground.

In the chest wound that resembled a vortex,

there were no organs, nor any bones visible.

What could be seen was actually a mushroom.

A black mushroom.

A large amount of white filamentous substance spread, the mycelium filling the white-faced man's entire body.

It replaced his original internal organs and bones.

"A vegetative person… no, mushrooms are fungi, so a fungus person?"

Tang Luo looked at the white-faced man; this strange symbiotic ecology was also something he had never seen before.

No wonder it felt somewhat soft on the first strike.

It didn't feel like hitting a normal human body.

The mycelium near the wound spread like a spider weaving a web, repairing the white-faced man's damaged wound.

The "fungus man, mushroom person" that the white-faced man had evolved into glared at Tang Luo with resentment.

A strong wind blew past his ear.

The white-faced man turned his head and discovered that the monk was already standing at his side.

His right hand still held an arm that looked extremely familiar to him.

He lowered his head and looked at his right arm.

From the shoulder position, it had been completely torn apart.

The white-faced man once again showed a terrified expression and his body toppled sideways.

For the first time, he felt that losing the sense of pain was not necessarily something to be happy about.

The arm in Tang Luo's hand quickly withered.

Without the mushroom main body, the mycelium's "death" occurred rapidly.

Less than half a minute.

The arm in Tang Luo's hand shrank into a lump.

At first glance, it didn't look like a human arm but rather a mushroom.

"Besides the mushroom, I think the head is also a vital point," Tang Luo said, tossing aside the "mushroom hand" and looking at the white-faced man.

If the brain were replaced by mycelium.

Then it wouldn't be a person, but a fungus spirit.

Tang Luo had seen many spirits and monsters, but a fungus spirit… he had never seen one.

For something edible, becoming a spirit is actually quite difficult.

Having just made a grand vow in the morning, then being stewed into soup by afternoon is a common occurrence.

"Just who are you! Which family do you belong to!"

"The Feng family will not let you go!"

The white-faced man was making his final struggle.

The monk's strength before him far exceeded his expectations.

Yet he had never heard of such a person.

Who is this monk?

Why would he target their Feng family?

"I am the humble monk Xuanzang," Tang Luo said, "from the Great Thunder Temple."

"Xuanzang, Great Thunder Temple…"

The white-faced man struggled to recall, but could not find any related faction in his memory.

"Donor, do you have any more copper-armored corpses?"

Tang Luo's words interrupted his thoughts: "The humble monk intends to continue training his hands."

A decent sandbag is hard to come by.

I originally thought having a new one would be a luxury.

I didn't expect the new sandbag to be useless.