Chapter 373: Recruiting Talent

Feng Qiwen's face twitched incessantly as he stared at Yan Jing, who looked like a literal evil ghost.

There was no escaping now.

The other man was far faster than him.

He only had one option left: fight this man to the death.

"Heh. Don't get too arrogant, kid."

He wiped the blood from his mouth and threw his arms wide. His purple cloak snapped open, revealing rows of incredibly expensive Gene Potions lining the inside.

The next instant, Weird Energy surged around Feng Qiwen. The glass vials holding the multicolored potions shattered with a sharp crack, their various liquids merging together before surging straight into his mouth.

In a flash, his muscles began to mutate. Irregular lumps of flesh bulged and writhed beneath his skin.

But before he could savor the power welling up inside him...

...the sharp howl of a gale pierced his ears. His eyes abruptly focused on the fist that had, at some unknown point, buried itself in his stomach.

Bam! Blood mixed with unabsorbed potion sprayed from his mouth. His body was launched backward as if struck by lightning.

"Roar!!!"

Midair, Feng Qiwen flew into a true rage. The potions he had absorbed didn't just grant him strength; they also clouded his mind.

Right now, it felt like wooden stakes were violently churning his brain. Compared to this agony, the heavy blow to his stomach was nothing.

A tentacle shot out from his battered, deformed stomach to grab the ground, halting his backward momentum. Then, acting like a spring, it launched him violently forward.

Compared to before, his strength and speed had increased several times over.

"Die!!!"

The roar tore from his mutated throat. In the blink of an eye, he was in front of Yan Jing, his hands—now hooked like a bird of prey's talons—slashing toward the man's neck.

But...

Bam!!! What greeted him was yet another heavy punch, and... it was even harder and faster than the last.

"Gah!!!" Feng Qiwen's eyes widened in disbelief.

Yan Jing smiled faintly. The corners of his mouth, already curled to his ears, seemed to stretch even wider. Then, his fists rained down on Feng Qiwen's stomach like a carpet bombing.

Booming impacts echoed like firecrackers. Feng Qiwen felt like a tiny boat caught in a hurricane; the flesh of his stomach was completely mangled, beaten until he could no longer feel his internal organs.

The fury roaring in his mind blazed even higher.

It was stifling—utterly humiliating.

"Die!!!"

Using every last ounce of his strength, he reached up and tore open his own chest.

From inside, he pulled out a vial of pure golden liquid.

The vial was only the size of a pinky finger, yet it was exceptionally dazzling, as if countless grains of golden sand flowed within it.

As he squeezed his palm, the vial shattered, and the liquid absorbed directly into his hand.

Buzz— Instantly, boundless light erupted from his body. Although he had already been reduced to a grotesque monstrosity, he now exploded with godlike momentum. Laughing maniacally, he lunged at Yan Jing, intent on tearing him to shreds.

This was the trump card he had saved for the competition. The corners of his mouth curled into a crazed grin; he could already see Yan Jing being ripped apart.

But suddenly, a soft sigh seemed to fall upon his ears. Inexplicably, a chill rose within his fury-consumed heart, making him shudder involuntarily.

"Huu..."

Yan Jing exhaled softly. Endless pitch-black threads poured from his pupils, wrapping around his fist that was already bound in white silk, and then...

...threw another simple punch.

Bam!

The strike looked entirely unadorned, but the moment it landed on Feng Qiwen, his pupils instantly dilated, focused, and then dilated again. In this cycle, he felt as if his entire life were flashing before his eyes.

The Gene Potions inside him were constantly repairing his body, but this punch was simply far, far too heavy.

Moreover...

...it wasn't just one punch.

"Bam!" "Bam!" "Bam!" "..."

Punch after punch. Yan Jing grabbed Feng Qiwen by the neck, and beneath the relentless barrage of heavy blows, blood bloomed continuously from his head like crushed flowers.

His consciousness had long since shattered, but Yan Jing did not stop.

Blood splattered onto the petals slowly drifting down from the sky. What was unfolding now was violence in its purest form.

No unnecessary words, no schemes or trickery—there was only punch after punch, beating the skin until it split open, battering the flesh into unrecognizable pulp.

Soon, as if completely stripped of bone, Feng Qiwen's head slumped.

Yan Jing finally let go. Without his hand holding him up, Feng Qiwen's body crumpled to the ground.

"Get up."

Yan Jing nudged Feng Qiwen's body with his foot, his expression calm.

"Get up!"

Yan Jing unleashed a flying kick. Feng Qiwen's body launched high into the air, soaring right over the headless corpse of Wild Boar Henry before crashing into a dirt mound in the distance.

Then, Yan Jing walked over. The black threads poured from his pupils once more, piercing straight into Feng Qiwen's body.

"Hah... hah..."

A ragged breath escaped Feng Qiwen's lips, and his vision cleared. The moment he saw Yan Jing, his body began to tremble uncontrollably.

Two streams of clear tears actually rolled from the eyes of this nearly two-meter-tall, muscle-bound giant.

It was the Fear of death.

"I'll ask you one more time."

Yan Jing's face was calm.

"You have a lot of Eerie Points, right?"

"I do... I do..." Feng Qiwen nodded frantically.

"Financial manipulation and all that, you know how to do it?"

"I do. I can do it."

"Good."

Yan Jing nodded. "Then wait to the side."

He retracted the threads. Without their support, Feng Qiwen's riddled, battered body went limp once more.

Next, Yan Jing walked over to the other side.

Wang Gang was still struggling relentlessly. Her tattered clothes were soaked in blood, and much of her skin had rotted away, exposing the brass-colored mechanical components inside.

The Old Man opposite her hadn't gone for the kill immediately. He was very interested in Wang Gang's body, and so had been "exploring" it, like a cat toying with a mouse.

Riiiip— He reached out and tore a piece of skin from Wang Gang's stomach. Staring at the spiral mechanical components inside, he spoke in a flat tone:

"To think her mechanical core is located at the Qihai Acupoint... The placement is different from the mechanical cores of the Heavenly Kingdom. Truly worth exploring. Next is the Zuhui Acupoint—"

He was just about to reach out and grab Wang Gang's foot when, in the very next second, several threads accompanied by a tentacle pierced straight into the back of his head.

The Old Man froze for a moment, and then...

"Aaaargh!!!"

The excruciating pain made it impossible for him to maintain his image as an aloof expert. His ugly, wizened face twisted as he continuously wailed and shrieked.

Sensing the threat of death, his spindly legs pumped furiously as he tried to flee into the distance.

But a fist—a convergence of threads, tentacles, white silk, and black mist—crashed down.

With a loud bam.

His head burst apart like an overripe watermelon.

Seeing the Old Man die, Wang Gang finally let out the breath she had been holding. Her body swayed, and she nearly collapsed to the ground.

"Work for me."

Yan Jing crouched down, looked at Wang Gang, and smiled gently:

"Otherwise, I'll kill you."