Essence Devouring Art

"AHH!!"

A scream like a pig being slaughtered echoed.

The one-eyed bandit chief had his side blown open by Wu Dao. Blood gushed like a spring as he collapsed on the bridge, howling in agony.

THUD!

The ground shook violently.

Wu Dao’s magnificent physique tore through the air, covering dozens of meters in what seemed like a single step to appear before the endlessly screaming bandit chief.

An oppressive aura, like that of a Fierce Beast from the Wilderness—abyssal and inescapable—instantly silenced the chief’s screams. He endured the pain, a fate worse than death, and fell to his knees, kowtowing and begging for his life.

"Great Hero, spare me! I’ll give you my entire fortune! Please, let me go..."

The one-eyed bandit chief kowtowed frantically in Wu Dao’s shadow, not daring to even lift his head to look.

’If I kill you, won’t your money be mine anyway?’

Amused, Wu Dao placed a steel-like hand, large as a cattail fan, on the bandit chief’s head. Feeling the scalp tense and tremble beneath his palm, he asked nonchalantly, "What’s this about a ’Skull Shattering Hand’? Do you know me?"

"This..."

The one-eyed chief trembled uncontrollably, momentarily stunned. He didn’t seem to understand why Wu Dao was asking a question to which he presumably already knew the answer. But after feeling the pressure on his head suddenly increase, he scrambled to reply:

"You flatter me, Great Hero. How could a filthy wretch like me be worthy of knowing you?"

"The reason I’ve heard of your moniker..."

"...is because word on the Jianghu lately is that a certain Pojian Master has been roaming around, serving justice by specializing in killing highway bandits. He’s known for wiping them out completely, leaving them all with shattered skulls."

"Since no one knows his real name..."

"...they could only give him a title based on his unusual eyes: ’Skull-Breaking Hand Black Pupil.’ So..."

So that’s how it is.

With his question answered, Wu Dao’s eyelid twitched. He was speechless.

Serving justice, specializing in killing bandits?

Weren’t they just tarnishing my good name for no reason?

In reality, he was just trying to get from one place to another. Who knew he’d run into so many idiots who didn’t know the difference between life and death?

He had always upheld the principle of fairness and justice.

Since you want my life...

...wouldn’t it be disrespectful of me not to take yours?

As for the "Skull Shattering Hand"...

...wasn’t smashing heads the fastest, most efficient way to kill an enemy? The rumors made it sound like he had some kind of special fetish.

Seeing that Wu Dao didn’t immediately fly into a rage, the one-eyed bandit thought he’d been spared. He sighed in relief and pleaded, "This humble one was blind and failed to recognize Mount Tai, offending you, Great Hero. If you spare my life this once, I will surely repay your grace generously in the future."

Hm?

Hearing this, Wu Dao glanced at the one-eyed chief with a look of surprise and sighed helplessly.

"Why do people always think a flimsy apology can make up for all their mistakes and failures?"

"When you hunt, you place the life of your prey on one side of the scales. You should be prepared to place an equal price on the other side."

"But you..."

As he spoke, Wu Dao gently patted the one-eyed chief’s head with his steel-like hand, producing a series of thumps, like tapping a watermelon.

"You are far too impolite. You lack reverence for the natural order, and you don’t respect your own life. For a person who doesn’t even respect their own life, tell me, how can they ever change?"

"Only through death."

"Only by seeing your own brains."

"Will you learn your lesson and change."

"Therefore."

"If I don’t kill you, I would be ruining you, denying you the chance to change."

"Don’t you think I’m right?"

"I..."

"Nothing to say? Since you agree, it’s time to be on your way."

"Wait, I belong to Elder Qin. You can’t..."

SPLAT!

Tired of his nonsense, Wu Dao flicked a finger. The "unripe melon" instantly exploded, splattering red and white pulp everywhere.

Elder Qin...

Wu Dao wiped the filth from his hand, mulling over those two words as he glanced up at the peak of a distant mountain.

Just now, with his Micro Level perception, he had felt a faint, probing gaze from the mountaintop. It was likely the "Supervisor" for this group of bandits.

After he killed the one-eyed bandit, that probing gaze vanished.

Considering his earlier suspicions, if he wasn’t mistaken, this Elder Qin must be a member of the White Whale Martial Arts Hall’s Elder Council.

This band of thugs was most likely a tool he kept on the side, his own private piggy bank.

Otherwise, a mere Divine Power Realm cultivator wouldn’t dare try to steal scraps from the White Whale Martial Arts Hall’s plate.

But it didn’t matter.

If he had offended someone, then so be it.

He understood the internal politics of the White Whale Martial Arts Hall.

It was roughly divided into two factions.

The new generation was led by Grandmaster Qi Canghai.

The Martial Artists from the old Giant Whale Sect who had survived the past tribulation mostly followed the old guard of the Giant Whale Sect, which was now the Elder Council.

Although the two sides were at odds with each other, on the surface, the White Whale Martial Arts Hall still operated according to Qi Canghai’s will. After all, in this World, Martial Power was supreme.

Plots, schemes, and petty intrigues all paled in the face of absolute Martial Power.

And as the only Innate expert in the White Whale Martial Arts Hall, Qi Canghai, still in the prime of his life, possessed the strength to suppress everyone else in the hall.

It was just a matter of picking a side.

Nothing worth mentioning.

After dealing with the one-eyed bandit chief, Wu Dao looted several thousand taels’ worth of silver banknotes from his body, then returned to the Bridge Entrance.

Under the awed and admiring gazes of the onlookers, he proceeded to loot more silver banknotes from the other bandits’ corpses.

All told, he found no less than five or six thousand taels.

One could only imagine how many people this group of bandits had harmed during this time.

But in the end, it all went to Wu Dao.

He stuffed it all into his personal treasury.

Money is a son of a bitch.

But without it, you’re less than nothing.

After the Heroic Domain, cultivating the Essence Devouring Art had become a money-burning machine, requiring large quantities of precious medicinal herbs for daily supplementation.

But the rare resources of this World were mostly monopolized by the major powers.

Never mind distant lands; just within the borders of Guangqing Prefecture, Wu Dao had passed through many cities in recent days, and he had seen virtually no truly precious herbs on the market.

After making some inquiries, he learned that they all flowed to the three major powers.

For now, he didn’t have the confidence to arm-wrestle with them.

Therefore, for the foreseeable future, he would have to be self-sufficient and just honestly spend his money on medicine.

Fortunately, along his journey, many people, seemingly unable to bear the sight of him suffering in poverty, had "charitably donated" a great deal of silver banknotes. He now had close to twenty thousand taels of silver.

The purchasing power of silver in this World was quite strong. An ordinary person could sell everything they owned and still not get ten taels of Silver. For the short term, at least, he wouldn’t have to worry about money.

After looting all the Silver Coins, Wu Dao tightened the bulging bundle filled with silver banknotes and prepared to leave.

As for the merchants with their ashen faces and begging eyes, he simply ignored them.

Does a tiger, after eating a wolf, spit out the mutton the wolf had eaten and return it to the sheep?

There was no such logic.

However, just as he was about to leave, Wu Dao glanced at two middle-aged men in the crowd who had distinctly different auras.

These two men—one in green robes, one in black, each carrying a greatspear on his back with its crimson tip exposed—had appeared just as the incident was concluding.

In Wu Dao’s perception, they were as conspicuous as blazing torches in the dead of night.

Their strength was profound.

Judging solely by their Essence, Qi, and Spirit, they were at least equivalent to Martial Artists who had undergone a Second Rebirth—and were at the peak of that level.

But that was only the surface.

Their true strength was impossible to know.

Right now, Wu Dao’s Spiritual Perception could only sense the resonance between heaven and earth, where the subtle felt like thunder.

He had not yet reached the level where he could use Introspection on external objects to see through others’ foundations. If he could, he wouldn’t hesitate to do so.

Prying into someone’s secrets for no reason was an absolute taboo in the Jianghu, a great personal insult to the other party.

He had no need to act like a reckless punk, provoking everyone he met for no reason, constantly caught in bitter feuds, screaming to kill or be killed.

For things that brought him no benefit, he simply couldn’t muster much interest.

Of course, if someone provoked him first, or threatened his interests, then that was another matter entirely.