ã€ŠGunsoul: A Xianxia Apocalypseã€‹


 Chapter 1: Unmade, Unbroken

    The ground tasted of blood and the air smelled of smoke.Pain raced through Yuan Guang¡¯s body as he coughed out dirt. His hands grasped at empty air. He crawled along the ground, his blurry vision slowly returning to normal. His car¡¯s husk burned behind him. Its destroyers were already ransacking it for anything useful.

    Yuan struggled to remember much. He recalled shouting a warning and reaching for his gun when he saw the enemy Humvees descend from the hills, right before a fireball blew his car apart. He had barely managed to crawl his way out of the wreckage when someone kicked him in the face with a hammer¡¯s strength. He was lucky to still have a skull.

    But Yuan knew his respite wouldn¡¯t last. His attackers had already killed his two companions. He wished he had lost consciousness before witnessing their murder.

    Two of the marauders dumped his friend Jaw-Long¡¯s corpse into a ditch after beating him to death. Poor Mingxia would follow soon. A cultivator¡¯s punch had shattered her ribs and killed her in one stroke. Yuan couldn¡¯t recall the number of times he and the siblings had traded jokes around the campfire, hiding in caves and empty houses to avoid the moonburns, or driving away from spirit-beasts. They had spent years on the road together.

    And now the two were gone. Killed in an instant.

    Such was the fate of Scraps when fighting those trained in the mystic arts. They snapped like twigs.

    The sight of his dead friends filled Yuan with despair and anger. He wished he had the strength to avenge them, but his attackers were numerous and better armed. He counted three dozen of them, equipped with swords and heavy weaponry. They even included some borgs among them; men with cybernetic arms and eyes. They hardly paid Yuan much attention.

    In their mind, he didn¡¯t matter. And they were right.

    Who were these guys? They looked like marauding cultivators, but to attack a group of three travelers with a warband of thirty¡­ it couldn¡¯t be an opportunistic attack. Yuan could only see one explanation besides cruelty.

    They wanted the package.

    A quick glance around him confirmed it. One of the marauders, a shirtless brute of a man with a red demon mask, held the package in his hands and studied it closely. The object appeared like a small black cube with closed eyes on each of its facets. Yuan didn¡¯t know what it did, nor how to activate it. He hadn¡¯t cared either. His team was paid to deliver cargo, not check it.

    If Yuan had known this thing would get all of his delivery team killed, he would have refused to transport it.

    Gritting his teeth, Yuan discreetly moved his hands to his belt. If he could grab his handgun¡­

    ¡°Slash,¡± one of the marauders suddenly said. ¡°One of the Scraps is still alive.¡±

    Yuan tensed up as the masked man turned his gaze on him.

    ¡°How cute,¡± the marauder, ¡®Slash,¡¯ said with a mocking voice. His fanged mask looked even more frightening from up close, with a crown of horns atop it and fangs longer than Yuan¡¯s fingers. Two golden eyes peered at Yuan from behind it, cold and remorseless. A malas necklace of crimson beads dangled from the brute¡¯s neck. He went barefoot too, carrying only a pair of black pants. ¡°We have a survivor.¡±

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    ¡°My bad,¡± one of his men apologized; a half-borg with more steel than flesh. Yuan recognized him as the one who kicked him in the face. ¡°Thought I¡¯d stomped his pretty head.¡±

    ¡°You would have been wiser to play dead, Scrap,¡± Slash said. He laughed upon noticing Yuan¡¯s gun. ¡°Wait, you actually thought you could kill your way out of this? With that ?¡±

    Knowing he was already dead, Yuan spat on the ground. ¡°Let me draw it and find out.¡± S?a?ch* Th? N0v?lFir?.?et website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    His answer appeared to amuse the marauder leader. ¡°Very well,¡± he said before glancing at one of his soldiers. ¡°Fetch me a gun.¡±

    ¡°Night will fall soon, Slash,¡± one of the marauders noted. ¡°We gotta bolt before we get moonburned.¡±

    ¡°It won¡¯t take long.¡± To Yuan¡¯s surprise, Slash traded the cube for one of his soldiers¡¯ revolvers. ¡°I¡¯ll fight you fairly, Scrap. Same weapon as you, no fists, no techniques. Just guns.¡±

    Yuan snorted in disgust. The marauder was just toying with him. ¡°There¡¯s nothing fair about this. If you wanna kill me, stop wasting everybody''s time and go through with it.¡±

    ¡°I will, but at least this way you¡¯ll get a fighting chance.¡± Slash removed his gun¡¯s safety. ¡°If he does kill me, he¡¯s free to go.¡±

    His cronies erupted in laughter. ¡°It would take divine intervention!¡± one of them jeered. ¡°He doesn¡¯t look like a prophet to me!¡±

    ¡°If one of the Wayfinders is willing to fight me for a Scrap¡¯s life, they¡¯re welcome to try.¡± Slash cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders. ¡°Dig a tomb for the loser.¡±

    With little choice, Yuan rose to his feet and grabbed his handgun. The marauders formed a circle around him and Slash, with nothing but arid dirt and hills to witness the duel. The sun had almost set beyond the horizon and the ring of ice encircled the Unmade World. An open grave, right between Jaw-Long¡¯s and Mingxia¡¯s, awaited the defeated.

    Yuan might have a chance if that man was a First or Second Coil. A cultivator¡¯s skin was still soft at that stage. But that man was likely a Third or above to lead such a large group, and in that case¡­ no guns would save Yuan.

    ¡°Ready?¡± Slash asked with a chuckle. He adopted a clumsy amateur posture, like someone who had never used a gun before. ¡°One, two¨C¡±

    Yuan Guang shot the marauder right between the eyes.

    The iron pressing against his skin used to give him a rush of adrenaline once. Not today. The gun¡¯s soft recoil sent a shiver through his hand, but his aim remained steady. The first bullet hit the target with perfect accuracy. So did the second and the third, which aimed for the neck. The fourth and the fifth followed soon after by hitting the chest.

    All of them bounced off Slash¡¯s skin and mask.

    Yuan Guang had never missed once in his life. He used to take great pride in his aim and gunplay; but as his flattened bullets fell to the ground, despair overwhelmed him. The wasteland echoed with the sound of laughter.

    There, right there. This was the gulf that separated cultivators from Scraps. The chasm of strength that no effort could hope to close. Still, Yuan refused to give up. No matter how pointless it was.

    ¡°Don¡¯t stop, Scrap,¡± Slash taunted him. He hadn¡¯t even flinched. ¡°Don¡¯t waste your mercy lead¨C¡±

    Yuan gritted his teeth and shot him in the left eye.

    This time, Slash¡¯s head snapped back from the impact. The sudden gesture silenced his cronies¡¯ laughter and briefly filled Yuan¡¯s heart with hope. If a Third Coil¡¯s eyes proved nowhere near as invulnerable as their skin, then he might have a chance to win.

    The bullet fell to the ground, its shape flattened into a crescent moon. The sight of it crushed Yuan¡¯s last remaining hopes.

    ¡°Nice try, I actually that one,¡± Slash rasped with what could pass for pleasure. His left eye had gained a red streak from the impact, but remained otherwise intact. ¡°My turn now.¡±

    Slash pointed his gun at Yuan¡¯s face. He had just been playing along to better toy with his victim.

    ¡°Any last word, trash?¡± Slash asked, death waiting at the end of his barrel. ¡°If you kneel and beg¨C"

    ¡°No.¡± Yuan stood tall and resolute. ¡°Fuck you.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not fun at all.¡± Slash¡¯s finger touched the trigger. ¡°When a man holds you at gunpoint, your best bet is to either amuse him or tell him why he should spare you. Pride gets you nowhere, Scrap boy.¡±

    Neither would pity. Yuan had been looked down on all his life, but at the end of it, he refused to kneel.

    ¡°You mistook me for a man who repeats himself, but I¡¯ll indulge you this time: .¡± Yuan gritted his teeth and glared at his executioner. He wouldn¡¯t give him the pleasure of sacrificing his dignity. He would die on his feet at least. ¡°I¡¯ll be back.¡±

    ¡°I doubt that.¡±

    The bullet hit Yuan right between the eyes.

 Chapter 2: The Will of the Gun

    It had been fifty years since the Spiral Dancer ascended to the heavens by completing her Thunderdance; forty-five since the Sky-Biter unmade the world on his way out of it; and twenty since Yuan first drew breath.Two decades of sweat and struggle, only to end up buried at the bottom of a ditch in the middle of nowhere. His murderer dug him a tomb at least, before giving him and his team the last rites sutras.

    What a world they lived in. Killers gave their victims funerals so they wouldn¡¯t return to haunt them as hungry ghosts.

    Did Yuan to return? The question lingered in his mind as he faced the darkness between life and death. Part of him wanted to avenge his fallen friends and live up to his final curse to haunt his murderer. If he mustered enough willpower, his ghost might endure in spite of the sutras.

    Who was he kidding? Dead or undead, he would remain a Scrap.

    Yuan had accepted his limits the day he learned he was one of the many men born without the potential for a qi core. It wasn¡¯t unusual. Half the world¡¯s inhabitants were Scraps working themselves to the bones serving the cultivators. Those who served a sect well and pleased its elders might even receive an uncorrupted spirit pill allowing them to form a core.

    Yuan possessed that hope back when he worked for the Stoneskins, before realizing how slim his prospects truly were. Sects mostly used their rare pills to help Second Coil disciples ascend to the Third. Why waste them on a runt who couldn¡¯t even cultivate on his own? Elders only elevated Scraps when the occasional spirit-beast attack or marauder raid claimed the life of too many disciples. The one time it happened to a sect for which Yuan was working, its elders chose local children over him. Cultivators became better the younger they were trained, and Yuan was pushing past twenty. the Elders had said.

    At least staying at that sect let him meet Mingxia and Jaw-Long.

    So he had become a courier instead. He had spent years transporting packages across the wasteland, hoping to one day scrape enough funds to buy a pill or get noticed by an Elder. Then he could have shown the world what he was truly made of.

    His dream had ended up like so many others: unfulfilled.

    Yuan pondered. He could hardly feel his limbs. His heartbeat had gone silent, and his lungs were still. His mind drifted ever downward in pitch black darkness.

    Those who returned from death before reincarnation described the Nowhere as a void in which the dead fell until they reached their new self. Those who committed great sins suffered in wasteful skins. Perhaps Yuan had committed a crime in a previous life to be born a Scrap. He could only hope to be reincarnated as a cultivator. That was his sincerest wish.

    He was tired of being weak.

    And that masked man¡­ what he would give to gun down that asshole¡­

    Yuan had dedicated half his life to gunplay, only to have his art mocked. He picked it up when the attitude of the First and Second Coils started wearing on his nerves at the Stoneskin Sect, especially the former. Nothing annoyed Yuan more than young boys and girls half his age looking down on him. They thought his lack of core meant he couldn¡¯t kill them.

    Most of them were wrong too. Yuan had killed First and Second Coil marauders in the past. Their skin was still soft at that stage, and few could dodge a projectile at point blank range. Guns had given Yuan what he had always craved: power. Meager power, but power nonetheless.

    If only there had been bullets that could pierce through the Immortals¡­ if he had had one, Yuan would have tracked that Slash across the entire Unmade World and put three bullets in his skull; one for Jaw-Long, one for Mingxia, and the last one for Yuan himself.

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    A metal heartbeat shattered the silence.

    The sudden noise was enough to wake Yuan from his lethargy. He focused on the sudden source of the sound, tuning his mind to its source. He looked inside himself, at a piece of cold metal stuck inside him.

    The bullet.

    Yuan could sense the bullet that had slain him deep inside his flesh. A core of lead and steel in a shell of flesh and bone. It pulsed like a heart. With life.

    What was going on? Yuan focused further on the bullet and sensed it radiate power. A wave of energy pulsed from it. It carried the acrid scent of gunpowder, mixed with the metallic stench of oil and the burnt aroma of a discharged weapon. Yuan liked it.

    Was this¡­ qi?

    Yuan had never wielded qi. No Scrap could sense it at all. He didn¡¯t remember any cultivator mentioning that it smelled of firearms either. Then again, it was supposed to come in many different forms.

    Whatever that energy was, Yuan felt it spread through his body. He began to sense his limbs answering his thoughts once more. A wave of warmth flowed into his veins. Yuan recognized it immediately.

    The pulse of .

    Seizing his chance, Yuan focused on the bullet. The more he did, the more he knew it, the stronger its iron heartbeat and the waves it sent. It filled Yuan¡¯s flesh, strengthening it, and enhancing him. His numb fingers moved slightly.

    He saw a light at the end of a barrel. He went after this fleeting frame with all his might.

    Then he saw a monster on the other side.

    Yuan caught a glimpse of a grotesque abomination of flesh and twisted metal. Its form vaguely resembled that of an emaciated and harrowing parody of a humanoid, a maelstrom of charred bones and sinews melded with steel barrels jutting out of its back like a spider¡¯s limbs. Its arms ended in cannons of monstrous proportions breathing smoke and bloody fumes.

    It barred the way back to the light.

    Yuan¡¯s will briefly faltered. Whatever that entity was, he could feel its suffocating power. It dwarfed the malice of Yuan¡¯s own killer.

    But between the certainty of death and the possibility of a new life, Yuan knew which one to take. He fearlessly went after the light, ready to stand his ground against that demon if need be.

    The monster opened its mouth, revealing jaws filled with gunshell teeth.

    ¡°Kill me,¡± it said with a voice loud like gunfire. ¡°If you can.¡±

    A gunshot resonated inside his skull, and Yuan Guang triggered back to life.

    His head burst out of the shallow ditch alongside most of his chest, sending dirt flying in all directions. His lungs gasped for air, but when he exhaled, his breath reeked of gunsmoke. The planetary ring shone bright blue in a sea of yellow. It was daylight again. S~?a??h the ???el F?re.n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    How long had he slept in this tomb?

    How did he even survive? The creature¡­ where was that creature?

    He couldn¡¯t focus on anything with his awful headache. Yuan¡¯s hand instinctively moved to his forehead, only to feel a patch of metal in the middle of his skin. The bullet was stuck in his skull, a crown of iron surrounded by lead veins. It pulsed stronger than his own heartbeat.

    What¡­ What was the meaning of this? Did the cultivator who attacked him enchant his bullet? Or had Yuan returned as a hungry ghost somehow?

    The sound of a motorcycle coming from behind him drew him out of his thoughts. Yuan instinctively turned his head around, right in time to see a biker come from behind his ditch and stop at his side.

    The bike was one of the strangest he had seen yet; a heavy behemoth of steel with wheels of smokeless fire. Its rider was no less intimidating; some kind of desperado clad in a black duster, boots, and heavy gloves, with a hangman¡¯s noose for a scarf. He wore a helmet stylized after a white skull, and a rounded hat on top of it. Yuan couldn¡¯t see his eyes behind its black lenses, though he was more worried about the revolvers hanging from the man¡¯s belt.

    For a moment, Yuan feared that this newcomer might be one of the marauders who had attacked him. Instead of returning him to his dirt nap, the stranger lowered his head and tipped his hat.

    ¡°Wake up, Gunsoul,¡± he said with a deep, bellowing voice. ¡°A child of the Gun doesn¡¯t belong in a ditch.¡±

    He offered his hand to Yuan, who stared at it in doubt and confusion.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± he asked the stranger.

    ¡°Revolver. A Gunsoul like you. A man on the Path of the Gun.¡± His words made no sense, but Yuan sensed no hostility from him. ¡°The Gun rewarded your dedication to vengeance and firearms with a half-life. Cherish it. You won¡¯t get a second.¡±

    The Gun? Did he mean that creature Yuan saw in the Nowhere? The biker¡¯s words made little sense, but Yuan at least understood the gist of it. had brought him back from the dead.

    ¡°A half-life is still a life,¡± Yuan told himself as he took Revolver¡¯s hand. His grip was strong and firm.

    ¡°Now you get it,¡± Revolver said upon pulling him out of the ditch. ¡°Congrats, by the way. You¡¯ve just triggered and passed through the First Coil.¡±

    ¡°The First Coil?¡± Either the man was mistaken or the world had gone mad in Yuan¡¯s sleep. ¡°I can¡¯t have gotten past the First Coil. I¡¯m a Scrap, I don¡¯t have a core.¡±

    ¡°A core?¡±

    Revolver laughed and pointed at the bullet stuck in Yuan¡¯s face.

    ¡° your core, buddy,¡± the biker said. ¡°The source and solution of all your problems.¡±

 Chapter 3: Back in the Saddle

    The marauders had robbed Yuan of everything: his friends, his package, his car, and even his handgun. That last one felt like the pill on top of a humongous pile of shit.His killers had thoroughly searched his cold dead corpse, though they had enough decency to bury him with his shirt and pants instead of stripping him naked. Yuan might as well be. He had no money, no weapons, no supplies, and no means of transportation. A death sentence in the wasteland.

    Revolver sensed his distress. ¡°Those who buried you stole your iron.¡±

    ¡°They took ,¡± Yuan replied with bitter hatred. A quick glance at the spots where the marauders hastily buried his murdered friends filled him with anger. ¡°And they¡¯ll pay dearly for it. I swear to the Wayfinders.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit.¡± Revolver searched one of his duster¡¯s pockets, grabbed one of his namesake weapons, and tossed it at Yuan alongside its holster. ¡°Here, take this. I stole that one from some bandit a while ago¡­ I think.¡±

    The revolver was fully loaded, with six bullets already inside its round cylinder. Small caliber, .38. Yuan would have to make each of them count. He swear to put three of them in Slash¡¯s head.

    Killing them would prove troublesome. Slash shrugged off his bullets and he had a large warband at his disposal. Even after awakening as a cultivator, Yuan had only reached the First Coil. He would need intense training, allies, and firepower to tip the balance in his favor.

    Yuan banished these thoughts from his mind. Before he could consider how to kill Slash and his cohorts, he would have to find them first.

    At least he had a vague idea of where to look. The traces of Slash¡¯s convoy pointed westward. A group of a dozen or so humvees wasn¡¯t particularly subtle. Yuan would just have to follow their trail on the road.

    ¡°I¡¯m on my way to Gatesville,¡± Revolver said. ¡°You can come with me if you want. Seems that your killers are headed this way.¡±

    ¡°Gatesville?¡± Yuan quickly recalled the name. ¡°That¡¯s a small frontier settlement, right? So small it doesn¡¯t even have a sect.¡±

    ¡°So I¡¯ve heard.¡± Revolver tipped his hat at Yuan. ¡°You¡¯re well-informed, traveler.¡±

    ¡°My team and I were supposed to make a stop there to refuel.¡± Saying the word left a bitter aftertaste in Yuan¡¯s mouth, but he didn¡¯t forget to thank Revolver for his gift. ¡°The name¡¯s Yuan by the way,¡± he said after attaching his new gun and its holster to his waist. ¡°I¡¯m grateful for the weapon, and for the ride.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it. We Gunsouls have to help each other reload now and then.¡± Revolver chuckled to himself. Yuan was polite enough to smile, though he didn¡¯t find the pun particularly funny. ¡°Climb on, buddy. I¡¯ll show you the ropes.¡±

    Yuan hesitated. He couldn¡¯t help but glance at his friends¡¯ tombs, his hand brushing against the bullet keeping him alive. If a shot to the head was all it took to transcend death¡­

    ¡°If I shoot corpses¡­¡± Yuan muttered to himself. ¡°Would they rise back up?¡±

    Revolver shook his head with a sigh of sympathy. ¡°Sorry, bud. If someone wished your pals to rise again, either as ghosts or Gunsouls, they would have awoken by now. They¡¯re gone.¡±

    Yuan assumed as much. He had filled quite a few graves himself and never saw one of his victims arise as a Gunsoul to take revenge. Yuan was a special case, for better and worse.

    With no other choice nor reason to stay any further, Yuan offered one last prayer to his departed friends and then climbed on Revolver¡¯s motorcycle. It pained him to leave Jaw-Long and Mingxia behind in the middle of nowhere, but the best he could do was to avenge them.

    Revolver¡¯s bike woke up with a roar of its engine. Its flaming wheels left a blazing path of crimson flames in their wake. Yuan had to hold on to his savior¡¯s chest so as not to be thrown overboard by the sudden burst of speed. Mingxia and Jaw-Long¡¯s tombs vanished behind them in an instant, replaced by the light of rising dawn.

    The landscape ahead proved beautiful in its desolation. A vast desert of salt and sand stretched as far as Yuan¡¯s eyes could see, with naught but a half-buried road of fossilized asphalt crossing it. The light reflecting on the shifting dunes made it difficult to see too far ahead. The presence of golden auroras and the soft sound of spirit lightning belied the presence of the Thunderlands somewhere close.

    Gatesville shouldn¡¯t be more than an hour away from what Yuan remembered. Thankfully, they would reach it long before night. It had become a time of terror since the Blackmoon¡¯s ascension decades ago.

    ¡°So what¡¯s your story, Yuan?¡± Revolver asked, trying to make small talk. ¡°Are you an adventurer in search of blood and fortune?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just a courier,¡± Yuan replied humbly, the warm wind of the wasteland blowing on his face. ¡°I was supposed to deliver my package to a place called Fleshmarket, but that won¡¯t be possible anymore. My killers stole the cargo.¡±

    ¡°Fleshmarket? That slavers¡¯ den?¡± Revolver let out a dismissive grunt. ¡°Your stolen package wouldn¡¯t happen to be , I hope? If so, you should crawl back into your ditch.¡±

    Yuan shook his head. Slaves were one of the few types of cargo his team unanimously refused to transport. ¡°We were supposed to deliver some kind of qi artifact; a cube with eyes.¡±

    His answer reassured Revolver. ¡°Good for you. I would have put another hole in your head otherwise.¡±

    ¡°You had a bad run with slavers?¡± Yuan guessed.

    ¡°Who do you think put in the ground?¡± Revolver shrugged his shoulders. ¡°Fleshmarket is one of those places begging me to grab my iron and pump it full of lead. The world might be Unmade, but we can¡¯t remake it without taking out the trash first.¡±

    Personally, Yuan didn¡¯t have any lofty goals of rebuilding ancient civilizations. Living to see tomorrow had already been hard enough; something he already failed to do once and now had to take another shot at. The Lost Age that preceded the Thunderdance died long before Yuan was born, so he had never learned to mourn it.

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    Something about Revolver¡¯s words did pique his interest though. Fleshmarket was under the Flesh Mansion Sect¡¯s control according to Yuan¡¯s information; one of the largest and most powerful groups on the Fanged Coast. Yet Revolver sounded confident he could take on the town and survive the experience. That implied a great deal of firepower.

    ¡°How many Coils have you unlocked?¡± Yuan asked Revolver.

    ¡°Can¡¯t you tell?¡± Revolver looked over his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m on my fourth, pushing the fifth.¡±

    ¡°The fourth?¡± Yuan didn¡¯t hide his surprise. Reaching the Fourth Coil of Infinity involved dedicating oneself to a Path or creating their own; sacrificing the chaos of versatility for a unique discipline and innate techniques. Few among the Stoneskin Sect had reached that stage at all. ¡°That¡¯s impressive.¡±

    ¡°You make me blush. You¡¯ll reach it too if you work hard enough.¡± Revolver focused back on the road. ¡°Activating your core means that you have passed through the First Coil, so you should be able to sense qi now. Close your eyes and focus.¡±

    Yuan followed his advice. It didn¡¯t take him long to achieve a meditative state. He had practiced similar exercises for years back when he thought that he could awaken his core naturally. S?a??h th? N?v?lFir?(.)n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Yuan gathered his breath, and for the first time in his life he began to .

    He sensed the flow of air entering his lungs and flowing into his beating bullet-core, only to be expelled as gunsmoke warming his veins. He recalled the words of the Stoneskins Elders to their students.

    There was nothing holy about Yuan¡¯s qi.

    The energy he took from the world passed into his bullet-core the way an engine consumed fuel to produce heat and smoke. The external qi that entered Yuan¡¯s flesh was pure air charged with power; the one that his bullet pumped into his veins carried the smell of gunpowder and the texture of lead. Molten iron flowed into his veins. The flow extended beyond his body¡¯s limits and reached all the way to the gun that Revolver gave him earlier, coiling around its cylinder and watering its bullets like seeds of death.

    How could something so good feel so wrong? For the first time in his two lives, Yuan caressed the Axiom of the universe; he touched the flow of power that belied all of existence, inhaled it, recycled it. He should have achieved a state of peace and harmony with the universe. Instead, his bullet-core roared with an engine¡¯s hunger for more fuel to burn.

    Yuan felt .

    A primal instinct inside of him told him that things were not as they should. That the power keeping him alive was never meant to exist, yet did so nonetheless.

    Yuan brushed off that awful feeling and focused on cycling qi into his body, as he dreamed of doing for so many years. The spiritual flow reached his closed eyes and opened them from the inside.

    Revolver¡¯s outline appeared to Yuan in the darkness of his eyelids; not as a man in a duster, but a skeletal shadow of gunpowder spirit-smoke raging with the sound of whirling cylinders and gunfire. His gaunt appearance was but a flesh disguise for a battle-hardened soul tempered in a bullet hell¡¯s flames. It felt downright oppressive, like facing a thunderstorm.

    This man was .

    The motorcycle¡¯s aura paled before that of its rider, but Yuan sensed a presence within its metal frame; a being of ephemeral fire filling its motors with its will and power. A flaming spirit had taken hold of it, possessing its engines and fueling its blazing wheels.

    No wonder Revolver seemed so casual on the road. His power cruiser drove itself.

    ¡°Now you truly me,¡± Revolver congratulated him once Yuan opened his eyelids. ¡°What do you know about cultivation?¡±

    ¡°The basics,¡± Yuan replied with a little bit of shame in his voice. Even after gaining a core¡ªalbeit an unusual one¡ªhe still felt like a Scrap. ¡°I worked for a sect once.¡±

    ¡°Forget everything they¡¯ve taught you,¡± Revolver said brusquely. ¡°We Gunsouls are anomalies. Most cultivators cycle their qi through one of their three dantian cores; the stomach, the heart, and the brain. We only have to worry about.¡±

    ¡°The bullet?¡± Yuan guessed.

    ¡°Exactly. That bullet is the source of your half-life. Your new heart and the seat of your soul. Cherish and protect it.¡± Revolver peeked over his shoulder. ¡°You must have noticed another detail too.¡±

    ¡°The gun that you gave me feels like an extension of my body,¡± Yuan noted. Which wasn¡¯t the case for his clothes. ¡°My qi flowed through it alongside my flesh.¡±

    ¡°You are a child of the Gun. We can charge firearms with our qi to strengthen the projectiles.¡±

    A dark thought crossed Yuan¡¯s mind. ¡°Enough to pierce through a Third Coil¡¯s skin?¡±

    ¡°You catch on quickly.¡± Revolver let out a dark chuckle. ¡°Let me show you.¡±

    A small revolver appeared in the man¡¯s hand, so fast Yuan couldn¡¯t tell whether it had been conjured out of thin air or taken from a pocket. Revolver pointed his weapon at a dune to their left without stopping. Yuan focused on the weapon and watched the qi move from the gunner¡¯s hand to the gun itself.

    The revolver whirred like roaring thunder, and its bullet hit the dune with a missile¡¯s strength.

    Yuan gasped in shock at the sight of tons of salt and sand erupting in an instant. The projectile raised a whirlwind in its path, cutting through the dune and then the next. Neither the wind nor other obstacles could slow down its advance. It blazed across the landscape like a comet and left naught but dust in its wake.

    Revolver lowered his weapon while laughing at Yuan¡¯s reaction. ¡°Pretty good, am I right?¡±

    ¡°Incredible¡­¡± Yuan whispered, unable to suppress his enthusiasm. His hand instinctively reached for his new weapon. Only the idea of wasting good bullets stopped him from firing one of his own. ¡°Was that a technique?!¡±

    ¡°If you consider spitting or shitting a technique. Do you teach a snake how to produce its venom?¡± Revolver chuckled. ¡°That¡¯s just something we . Gun techniques are much more grandiose.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen any cultivator do that,¡± Yuan muttered to himself. He felt like a scroll-hunter who happened to stumble on an ancient, undiscovered treasure. ¡°What is that Gun anyway? A Wayfinder?¡±

    ¡°The Gun is the spirit of vengeance and firearms,¡± Revolver explained. ¡°The demigod of ultraviolence and apostle of gunplay.¡±

    Yuan scoffed. ¡°That doesn¡¯t explain much.¡±

    ¡°Beats me, I don¡¯t know much more either. Maybe it used to be a gun that killed so many people that it became a spirit-machine of immense power. Maybe it was a man once. Maybe it¡¯s an ancient murder demon taking a modern shape.¡± Revolver shrugged his shoulders. ¡°Where the Gun comes from doesn¡¯t matter. What matters is that it , and sometimes those who die by the gun are raised by the Gun. That¡¯s all there is to it.¡±

    Yuan believed otherwise. He recalled the words the creature told him upon raising him from the dead. ¡°It asked me to kill it.¡±

    ¡°Me too,¡± Revolver replied. ¡°All the Gunsouls I¡¯ve encountered said the same.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Yuan asked with a frown. ¡°Does it want to die?¡±

    It seemed strange to him that an entity powerful enough to raise someone like him from the dead couldn¡¯t simply blow its brains out; if it had any. Perhaps it was bound by magical restrictions?

    Yuan was in no hurry to track down that monster, even if he felt grateful enough for the free resurrection. He would like to pay back that debt somehow, but he needed to learn more first.

    ¡°How the hell should I know? I ain¡¯t mad enough to pick a fight with the creature who brought me back! Whoever was crazy enough to try has failed miserably.¡± Revolver hid his weapon back inside his duster. ¡°Although¡­¡±

    Revolver briefly fell into a deep, thoughtful silence. His hands tightly gripped his power cruiser¡¯s handlebars and his spine stiffened. Yuan knew that posture well: that of a man trying not to think about something bothersome.

    ¡°Although?¡± Yuan probed further.

    ¡°Somebody told me once that the fate of all Gunsouls is to either kill the Gun¡­ or to be killed by it.¡± Revolver looked at the horizon and avoided Yuan¡¯s own gaze. ¡°Do what you must while you still can. Your mercy lead won¡¯t last forever.¡±

 Chapter 4: Gatesville

    Gatesville appeared in the distance.Yuan had heard that once upon a time, endless fleets of cars sailed across stone roads called highways that stretched across half the world. Nothing but ruins remained of them now, and Gatesville happened to be built under one. Great concrete pillars as tall as hills surged from the wasteland and propped up an ancient bridge of stone.

    It looked like an archway from afar. A set of gates.

    The structure loomed over a shadowed slum filled with poorly constructed shacks separated by the road. Better buildings stood atop the bridge. Yuan assumed the locals lived upstairs, where they could see enemies coming and take refuge, while they conducted business with strangers in the underpass. Good. That likely meant that the town¡¯s lookouts must have seen Slash¡¯s warband.

    However, the landmarks beyond Gatesville bothered Yuan more. Booming lightning struck a region to the southwest under a sky of golden auroras. Space had grown thin around these parts, obscuring the landscape with light refractions and elusive mirages. A multicolored, kaleidoscopic veil marked the border of these Thunderlands. Tellingly, the road ahead deviated to the north-west instead of cutting through them.

    Not that the sights on the other side were any better. The grave of an old world city stretched inside a large crater along the asphalt, its toppled skyscrapers pointing to the sky like fingers reaching for the heavens. Time and dust storms had weathered their metal bones.

    Something about this place rubbed Yuan the wrong way. He focused on the qi rising up from this place and carried by the wind. He immediately felt sick. The air carried poisonous dust that his own bullet-core struggled to assimilate.

    This ruin was .

    ¡°I heard that that city used to be inhabited four years ago,¡± Revolver commented on the landscape. ¡°One of us and Czar Zoa killed each other there.¡±

    ¡°Czar Zoa?¡± The name sounded vaguely familiar to Yuan, though it didn¡¯t take him long to recall it. ¡°Wasn¡¯t he a Nuclear Path cultivator?

    ¡°Indeed, he was a deadly madman with a nasty habit of blowing up any settlements he could find.¡± Revolver whistled to himself. ¡°Man, that must have been a fight worth seeing.¡±

    Yuan chuckled. ¡°So we aren¡¯t all bound to be killed by the Gun.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a figure of speech,¡± Revolver replied. ¡°You don¡¯t have to wait for our barreled daddy to blow your brains out.¡±

    ¡°When will it?¡± Yuan cleared his throat. ¡°Catch up to me?¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that obvious?¡± Revolver laughed. ¡°The Gun will find you when it to.¡±

    Yuan¡¯s jaw tightened on its own. He should have known his resurrection would have strings attached, but he would never have expected to become his savior¡¯s quarry.

    Those were the Gun¡¯s words. Now Yuan understood their meaning. They weren¡¯t a plea for help, but a challenge. Much like those on the Path of the Dyad sought worthy rivals to measure themselves against, the Gun sought foes worthy of killing it. Yuan was starting to suspect that the bullet sustaining his life would let his monstrous benefactor track him down when it chose to.

    ¡°Don¡¯t beat yourself over it,¡± Revolver reassured Yuan. ¡°I¡¯ve been a Gunsoul for many years, and the Gun hasn¡¯t seen fit to blast me back to the Nowhere yet. Live your half-life to the fullest and make the best of the time you have left.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Yuan replied. In all likelihood, he might not live long enough for the Gun to come after him anyway. Slaying Slash and his band would prove hard enough already. ¡°Anything else I should know about Gunsouls?¡±

    ¡°One.¡± Revolver raised a finger at his helmet. ¡°If you snort gunpowder through your nose, it¡¯ll shoot you up better than any drug.¡± s?a??h th? N?v?lF?re.?et website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Yuan blinked a few times.

    ¡°I¡¯m kidding.¡± Revolver chuckled. ¡°Or ?¡±

    If he weren¡¯t trying so hard not to fall off the motorbike, Yuan would have facepalmed in annoyance. At least Jaw-Long¡¯s puns were funny.

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    ¡°The marauders who attacked me were led by someone named Slash,¡± Yuan said, changing the subject. ¡°Masked man, went shirtless. He led a warband of thirty with humvees. Does it ring any bells?¡±

    ¡°Nope,¡± Revolver replied, much to Yuan¡¯s disappointment. ¡°A warband that big though, that¡¯s not something a two-bit thug can amass on his own. Your Slash must be a sect¡¯s troubleshooter or on a warlord¡¯s payroll. Yinyang Khan¡¯s, I¡¯d wager.¡±

    ¡°Yinyang Khan?¡± Yuan recalled Mingxia mentioning that name when she briefed the team on the Fanged Coast. The Yinyang Khan was one of the region¡¯s mightiest warlords and a follower of the Dyad Sect, though his influence should reach as far as Fleshmarket and Gatesville.

    ¡°He¡¯s a two-faced, covetous Dyad who loves to collect rare artifacts, so if your package was halfway precious you can bet he would want it for himself.¡± Revolver looked up as they passed under the overpass¡¯ shadow. ¡°Here we are.¡±

    The shantytown appeared even dirtier from up close. Rusted shacks built from ransacked metal plates struggled for every inch of space in the shade. The road was paved with broken glass bottles, piled up trash, and Scraps; the human kind¡ªYuan could tell from the squalor in which they lived¡ªbundled themselves in corners and looked at the newcomers with hardened suspicion. One should always keep a hand on their iron in this kind of town. Revolver alone showed no fear as he parked his power cruiser near the entrance. Who would dare mug him anyway?

    ¡°My team was supposed to refuel at a place called the ,¡± Yuan informed Revolver as he climbed down the motorcycle. ¡°Do you know its location?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s Kyung-sun¡¯s office and a little further along the road,¡± Revolver replied. ¡°You should go see her. She¡¯ll hook you up with the right people.¡±

    Yuan froze in place. ¡°You¡¯re not coming with me?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not too popular around these parts, and I¡¯ve got debts of my own to settle.¡± Revolver tipped his hat. ¡°You were my good deed for the day.¡±

    Yuan knew he couldn¡¯t ask for more. Few would have given a stranger a free ride back to civilization without asking for anything in return; let alone hand him a weapon to defend himself with. Besides, Yuan had a gut feeling that they would cross paths again someday.

    ¡°Let me give you one last piece of advice before I leave.¡± Revolver removed his glove. The hand underneath had skin with the texture of metal, gray and strong. ¡°This is Elemental Infusion, the most basic qi technique. It temporarily imbues your body with the element to which your core is attuned to. For us Gunsouls, it¡¯s metal or fire. Try it.¡±

    Yuan tightened his fist and attempted to channel his qi through it. His only reward for his efforts was a surge of pain and a terrible ache in his finger joints.

    ¡°See the issue?¡± Revolver asked. ¡°To pass the Second Coil of Infinity, you must keep cycling qi and reinforcing your body until it can support a technique. Treat your body like a blacksmith caters to his sword. Hammer the blade until it strengthens and wipe away the impurities.¡±

    ¡°How long does it take for us to pass through the Second Coil?¡± Yuan recalled that most cultivators usually spent a year of work before they reached that stage, but Gunsouls might work differently.

    ¡°It depends on your diligence, but don¡¯t rush it. Slow and steady wins the race.¡± Revolver put his glove back on. ¡°Off I go now.¡±

    ¡°Can you remove your helmet?¡± he asked Revolver. ¡°It saddens me to miss out on my savior¡¯s face.¡±

    ¡°Helmet?¡± Revolver leaned in closer to Yuan, his black lenses utterly impenetrable. ¡°I wear no helmet.¡±

    A chill traveled down Yuan¡¯s spine as he understood the implications.

    ¡°You¡¯re on the Path of the now, Yuan. Don¡¯t expect to look like a once you reach the barrel¡¯s end.¡± Revolver tipped his hat. ¡°Till we meet again.¡±

    His power cruiser rode towards the horizon with a roar. Yuan watched Revolver vanish into the dunes before turning back to face Gatesville. He was alone in a foreign land, with no money or vehicle. Not the best way to start fresh.

    Yuan had a weapon though, and a core. A man could go farther in this world with these two than with kind words alone.

    Yuan searched the neighborhood for the establishment. It proved a bit difficult to find his way through the ramshackle buildings and piles of junk, but he quickly noticed a place standing out from the rest. This particular house had cleaned metal walls lined with spirit-beasts¡¯ fur for protection against the elements, and, most importantly, an automated gatling turret on the roof. A pack of stag-horned, scaled kirin horses waited in a pen closely guarded by Scrap guards armed with rifles. They probably belonged to a caravan company making a stop in the area.

    Yuan looked up at the turret, but when it failed to gun him down where he stood he found the courage to approach closer. He noticed the name painted above the house¡¯s double doors.

    A small hole opened in the facade and two eyes peered through at Yuan. ¡°Identify yourself,¡± a voice said on the other side. ¡°Quickly.¡±

    Yuan heard the automated turret click above his head. These people wouldn¡¯t ask twice.

    Yuan¡¯s first instinct was to ask Mingxia, a thought that immediately left him heartbroken. Mingxia had been the team¡¯s face. Her good looks and winning personality opened all kinds of doors that Yuan¡¯s guns or Jaw-Long¡¯s fists couldn¡¯t. She also happened to be the one who managed their contracts, though Yuan picked up a few things.

    ¡°Yuan Guang,¡± he introduced himself. ¡°I work for Eastern Express. We were supposed to refuel here.¡±

    The eyes squinted in suspicion. ¡°Where are your teammates? There should be three of you.¡±

    ¡°We got ambushed.¡± Yuan pointed at the bullet stuck in his forehead. ¡°Got the mark to prove it.¡±

    The eyes behind the hole studied Yuan for a few seconds, then disappeared into the darkness. Yuan heard whispers on the other side and then the sound of whirring gears. The doors slid open and welcomed him.

    Yuan stepped through the threshold, a hand on his revolver.

    He immediately sensed a gun barrel pressing against his head.

 Chapter 5: Journey to the West

    A woman in leather armor pointed a hunting rifle at Yuan''s head.He didn¡¯t raise his hands up in the air though. Instead, he grabbed his revolver and pointed it at his assailant¡¯s face before she could react. A tense silence quickly settled between them, both ready to pull their trigger on a moment''s notice.

    Yuan knew he would win a gunfight¨Che was quicker on the draw¨Cbut he cautiously waited for her to explain herself first.

    ¡°No weapons inside, cowboy,¡± the woman said gruffly. Yuan immediately recognized the voice that had spoken to him earlier. ¡°You¡¯ll get your gun back on your way out.¡±

    Instead of answering immediately, Yuan first scanned the room. It was a bit difficult to see much with the low lighting, since flickering chandeliers provided most of the light and the few lamps remained shut. Yuan assumed that the owners kept their precious electricity for the turret outside.

    The turned out to be a small caravan bar fit to house a few dozen patrons. Scrap merchants played cards on metal tables, while their guards drank booze near a rusted counter. A trio of cultivators sat on a carpet in a corner, cycling their qi before a small altar dedicated to the Spiral Dancer.

    None of them were armed.

    ¡°I can tell how many bullets I''ve left,¡± Yuan said as he handed his revolver to the guard. He didn¡¯t like it, but keeping his weapon would surely cost him the locals¡¯ friendship and any chance of obtaining intel. ¡°Don¡¯t try to abscond with them. I know the music.¡±

    The woman snorted and lowered her weapon. ¡°Don¡¯t start trouble here. No second chances.¡±

    ¡°Where can I find Kyung-sun?¡±

    The woman guard pointed at a counter to the side with her chin. Unlike the bar proper, the nearby shelves were filled with notebooks and scrolls instead of bottles. A woman in a blue fur dress sat behind it: one with silky black hair, eight eyes, and four spider legs popping out of her back.

    A yaoguai. Odd. They usually put up an illusory disguise when interacting with humans. Yuan supposed that this one didn¡¯t bother considering her home¡¯s remoteness. Yuan walked towards her when a bounty board caught his eye.

    A sketch of Revolver¡¯s ¡®face¡¯ occupied its center. Yuan stopped just long enough to read the notice underneath.

    Revolver was wanted dead. Not dead or alive. Just . His head was priced at two-thousand soulstones too; a rather hefty sum for a lone cultivator. No wonder he didn¡¯t want to stick around for too long.

    Between the mention of ¡®abolitionist crimes¡¯ and Revolver¡¯s hatred of slavers, Yuan figured his fellow Gunsoul earned his bounty fighting slavers. If anything, it only increased his respect for the man. To defy a warlord and live to tell the tale was a feat worth celebrating.

    The idea of seeing his own face on a board right next to Revolver¡¯s amused Yuan. He was a benchmark of power he hoped to reach.

    Yuan pushed Revolver out of his mind and approached the spider-lady. She finished writing down words on a notebook with a quill before she deigned to greet him. ¡°Scrap or cultivator?¡±

    Yuan¡¯s fists tightened on their own. He hated that question and everything that it implied. ¡°What difference does it make?¡±

    ¡°A big one.¡± The yaoguai studied Yuan with her many eyes, all of them pitch-black as a New Moon night. ¡°I¡¯ll repeat myself: Scrap or cultivator?¡±

    ¡°Cultivator,¡± Yuan replied, almost reluctantly. How strange. He always thought that he would say that word with pride, like showcasing a trophy he had rightfully earned through his efforts. Yet here, he felt almost ashamed. ¡°First Coil.¡±

    ¡°Zodiac sign?¡±

    ¡°Yang Metal Ox.¡± Yuan scowled. ¡°Is this an astrologer¡¯s parlor or a trading post?¡±

    ¡°Both. A visitor¡¯s sign informs their fate, and yours is a stubborn one.¡± The yaoguai scribbled notes on her notebook and then closed it. ¡°I am Kyung-sun, the manager of this fine establishment. Is that a bullet stuck in your head? You should remove it. It¡¯s unsightly.¡±

    ¡°Not until I catch up to the man who put it there,¡± Yuan replied dryly. Something about this woman rubbed him the wrong way, and it wasn¡¯t about being part spider. ¡°I am Yuan Guang, from the Eastern Express. My group was ambushed by a large group of marauders with humvees. You must have seen their convoy.¡±

    ¡°We did. Our lookouts sounded the alarm when they came roaring in from the west. For a moment, I feared we had a fight on our hands.¡± Kyung-sun joined her hands, her expression utterly unflappable. ¡°They forced their way into my establishment and asked questions.¡±

    A shiver ran through Yuan¡¯s back. ¡°About us?¡±

    ¡°Yes. They wished to know if a delivery team of three people from the Eastern Express had stopped in Gatesville.¡± Then she added, almost as an afterthought. ¡°I told them that you had yet to arrive, for a fee.¡±

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    ¡°You sold us out?¡± Yuan choked in outrage. ¡°Why?!¡±

    ¡°Because if I hadn¡¯t, they would have tried to take that information by force; a fight we would have lost considering their numbers and armament. At least we received financial compensation for our trouble this way.¡±

    Yuan¡¯s hand reached for his belt and failed to find his revolver. His gaze wandered to the guard at the entrance, who proceeded to maliciously wag her finger at him.

    ¡°Son of a¡­¡± Yuan complained.

    ¡°We get that a lot,¡± Kyung-sun replied with a stone-faced expression. From her reaction, she was used to visitors trying to hold her at gunpoint.

    ¡°I see why you confiscate your customers¡¯ weapons,¡± Yuan said with an angry grunt. ¡°Smart.¡±

    ¡°Do not take it personally, Mr. Guang,¡± she replied, her eight eyes blinking all at once. She seemed a little bit ashamed, though not enough to apologize. ¡°You would have done the same in our situation, and even if I kept my mouth shut they would have ambushed you at our trading post anyway.¡±

    She was only half-right. Yuan would rather bite the dust than betray someone¡¯s trust¡ªit was too rare and precious in the Unmade World¡ªbut her silence wouldn¡¯t have changed anything. The fact that Slash knew their company, numbers, and the direction from which they were coming before reaching Gatesville could only mean one thing.

    Someone at Eastern Express had betrayed Yuan¡¯s team.

    And that traitor would .

    ¡°Considering the trouble you¡¯ve suffered and the damage to our reputation, I am willing to compensate you,¡± Kyung-sun offered. ¡°Up to a point.¡±

    ¡°What, will you buy tombs for my dead teammates?¡± Yuan mocked her.

    ¡°That¡¯s within our budget.¡±

    Yuan didn¡¯t want money. He wanted . Both for himself and his dead comrades. ¡°Start by telling me who these people were.¡±

    ¡°Your attackers belonged to a warband affiliated with the Yinyang Khan; the region¡¯s most powerful cultivator.¡±

    That name again¡­ ¡°The warlord?¡± Yuan asked. ¡°Where does he rule from?¡±

    Kyung-sun grabbed a scroll from her shelf and unveiled it on the counter. Yuan found himself facing a crude map of a long coastal area between the Bitten Sea to the north and the Oil Lakes region to the south. The Fanged Coast.

    ¡°The Yinyang Khan rules from Battletown,¡± Kyung-sun explained, one of her spider-legs pointing at a distant city a hundred leagues west of Gatesville. ¡°A third of the region¡¯s settlements pay him tribute, as do many sects.¡±

    ¡°Including yours?¡± Yuan¡¯s jaw clenched. ¡°I thought his influence didn¡¯t reach so far east.¡±

    ¡°We are too remote for any warlord or sect to bother conquering, so we remain beneath his notice. He is allied with the Flesh Mansion Sect that rules Fleshmarket, however.¡±

    That would explain how he caught wind of the delivery. ¡°How many men does he have?¡±

    ¡°Thousands of Scraps and hundreds of cultivators, many of which have reached the Fourth Coil.¡± Kyung-sun folded her map. ¡°I humbly suggest that you let the matter slide. Crossing the Yinyang Khan is a quick path to one¡¯s next life.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t bother, I already know the way out,¡± Yuan replied with a grunt. ¡°Did the warband stop here on their way back too?¡±

    ¡°No, they did not.¡±

    Interesting. Gatesville¡¯s trading post didn¡¯t look too well-defended in Yuan¡¯s mind, so a large warband like Slash¡¯s would have no trouble raiding the place or extorting supplies from the locals. The fact that they didn¡¯t¡ªand bothered to for quick answers¡ªmeant that they were on a time limit of some kind. s?a??h th? N0v?lFire(.)n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Everything pointed to Revolver¡¯s hypothesis being correct. A greedy conqueror wanted to add another trinket to their collection, and the murder of Yuan¡¯s team had been a small price to pay to obtain it.

    That meant Yinyang Khan was likely out of Yuan¡¯s reach, but not Slash. Now that he knew where his murderer came from, he would track him down across the wastes and return the bullet to its sender. With .

    ¡°I need this map,¡± Yuan told Kyung-sun. If she wanted to compensate him, here was her chance to prove it. ¡°And a ride to Fleshmarket.¡±

    Yuan would need to stop there on his way to Battletown, both to inform their original client of the package¡¯s loss and to question them about the cube. What made this artifact so precious that a warlord would send a warband a hundred leagues away from their seat of power to steal it? It made Yuan curious.

    ¡°I can lend you a copy of the map, but you will have to find your own vehicle.¡± Kyung-sun curtly nodded at her drinking patrons and cycling cultivators. ¡°If you wish to reach Fleshmarket, you can join the present caravan. They intend to take the northern road there. I¡¯m sure they will welcome a cultivator mercenary.¡±

    This option didn¡¯t appeal to Yuan in the slightest. The northern road was both the longest path to Fleshmarket from what he gleaned from the map, and the caravan rode kirin. Those horses were a sturdy and hardy lot, but only half as quick as a motorbike.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t anybody have a car or a cruiser?¡± Yuan asked. Though he had nothing to buy a ride with, he could always try to negotiate. ¡°I need to reach Fleshmarket as fast as I can.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re strapped for a car, you can always tame one,¡± Kyung-sun suggested. ¡°Herds of wild car-spirits drive through the Thunderlands. With luck and moxie, you could ride one to Fleshmarket.¡±

    A spirit-car? Yuan had tamed a few in his youth when he still worked for the Stoneskin Sect. The issue was baiting them with oil and preventing them from fleeing the moment their driver exited it, but he could ride one through the Thunderlands and straight to Fleshmarket. It would be the shortest path.

    Moreover, Thunderlands abounded with qi. Cycling there would drastically shorten the time that Yuan required to reach the Second Coil. It would help make a difference once he caught up to Slash¡¯s band.

    ¡°Your company already paid for the refuel, so I can hand an oil canister over to you,¡± Kyung-sun said. ¡°You should bait a spirit-car with it easily enough. I wouldn¡¯t recommend it though.¡±

    ¡°I can take care of myself,¡± Yuan replied. ¡°I¡¯ve braved Thunderlands before.¡±

    ¡°Not this kind,¡± Kyung-sun warned him. ¡°The radioactive winds from the nearby ruins have corrupted the local caretaker spirit into a rad-hag. Her Thunderlands have become a den of mutants and demons. Our own trappers don¡¯t dare to hunt there alone.¡±

    Few things scared Yuan, but Kyung-sun¡¯s words gave him pause. A rad-hag was a dangerous creature. A blighted witch with an appetite for destruction whose presence cast a dreadful curse on the Thunderlands under her control. Even cultivators stayed wary of them.

    The thought caused Yuan to scoff. He was still thinking like a Scrap.

    ¡°Whatever.¡± Kyung-sun let out an inhuman chitter. Yuan suspected it was her kind¡¯s equivalent of a sigh. ¡°You are free to risk your life as you wish. Are we ?¡±

    Yuan quickly picked up the hidden question: was her debt to him settled, or should she expect him to come back seeking revenge later? Yuan considered his decision for a minute.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± he replied warily. ¡°Yeah, we are.¡±

    He wouldn¡¯t gain anything from antagonizing her now, and had bigger fish to fry. He wanted Slash''s head on a platter and the Eastern Express worm who told him about his team¡¯s package. Picking a fight with a warlord¡¯s retinue would bring him enough enemies; he didn¡¯t have time to make more.

    Yuan considered his options. He could either travel with the Caravan and take the longer road, or skip straight through the Thunderlands. In the first case, he could ask fellow cultivators for guidance; but the latter would let him cycle to the Second Coil quicker.

    Tough choice.

 Chapter 6: Into the Thunderlands

    Haggling with Kyung-sun proved to be a miserable experience, but Yuan still managed to walk out of the with a canteen filled with water, a bag of rations big enough to last three days, some rope, and a gasoline canister.And his revolver, of course. Couldn¡¯t forget the revolver. Kyung-sun refused to surrender any ammo¡ªit was worth more than water around these parts¡ªso he would have to use his own carefully.

    Six bullets to last for an entire stretch of Thunderlands. Not the best odds, but Yuan had beaten worse ones. It wasn¡¯t his first time trekking across one of these regions. It wasn¡¯t that different from a journey through the wilderness; just weirder.

    After some thoughtful consideration, Yuan decided against joining the caravan. Revolver warned him that Gunsouls worked differently from other cultivators, so he doubted its members could teach him anything. He had spent enough time serving the Stoneskin Sect to learn the basics of qi cycling anyway.

    And last but not least¡­ Yuan simply wasn¡¯t a social person. He worked well with Jaw-Long and Mingxia because they had his back, but he couldn¡¯t say the same of hired guns paid to escort merchants from one place to another. It wouldn¡¯t be the first time one of them would turn out to be a marauder scouting information on caravans to attack. Courier jobs paid well because very few people were both trustworthy and professional nowadays.

    Yuan would rather deal with the outback than keep looking over his shoulder for days. Having been his team¡¯s scout, he knew his way around the wild.

    With his goods stored in his bag, Yuan left Gatesville without looking back. The frontier with the Thunderlands was a few hours away, but he kept a steady pace to reach it before nightfall. The spiritual veil around the region would shield him from the Moonburn.

    Yuan immediately noticed how little exhaustion he felt from the trip. Walking under the brutal sun of the wasteland should have left him winded in short order, especially after rising from the dead, but Gatesville had long become a distant mirage by the time he started to feel any exhaustion.

    Or had he simply grown better at breathing and managing its energy now that he could sense qi?

    The idea of joining that select club and never resting again encouraged Yuan to hurry up his own cultivation. The noise of distant thunder grew stronger with each step, as did the glow of golden auroras in the distance. The wasteland slowly began to change around Yuan the closer he got to the border. Dunes rose up around him like jaws closing in on prey. The sand shifted and undulated as if moving under its own will.

    Then Yuan crossed the veil.

    There were no lines drawn on the ground with Thunderlands, no guard post to inform a visitor of when he had left the material world and stepped into a brand new realm of spirits and madness, but the shift was unmistakable. Yuan felt like a man stepping through a water shower and then jamming one¡¯s hand into a power outlet. A faint jolt of lightning coursed across his body, immediately informing him that he had walked into a realm of pure power.

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    Reality snapped around him. The blue sky turned golden and the sun began to ripple like a ring of liquid mercury. Multicolored lightning struck the earth without black clouds to sustain them. The dunes collapsed around Yuan, revealing a grand stretch of strange and primeval badlands overtaken by a faint yellow haze. Towering rock formations oversaw immense stretches of rust dunes and the cadavers of great metal beasts from the Lost Age. The air was colder here, each inhalation jolted Yuan¡¯s throat, and it carried so many disparate smells: oil, rusting metal, and rot.

    Entering a new patch of Thunderlands always left Yuan awestruck. Having overcome the First Coil only heightened the experience. The Thunderlands qi. He could feel it everywhere around him, in the stones and in the wind. He felt closer to the Dao each time he opened his mouth.

    Each breath reminded Yuan of the Spiral Dancer¡¯s monumental achievement.

    Each of the Wayfinders had become one with the Dao; and like a hurricane left devastation in their wake, as one¡¯s ascent to the highest of heavens shook the world forever. When the Spiral Dancer merged with the universe, it adopted her Path as a karmic law. That was the goal of all cultivators seeking to ascend beyond the Seven Coils of Infinity: to merge their existence with the cosmic axiom, escape the cycle of reincarnation, and see their will define reality. To make one¡¯s Path part of the Way.

    The Spiral Dancer once danced to enlighten the dissolute and faithless men of her time. The Thunderlands were her legacy: places where the veil between matter and spirit had grown thin enough for one to cross over into the other. Her ascension, the first of many, opened the way to the Dao to future generations.

    If only the Sky-Biter hadn¡¯t followed her and bitten the world on his way out of it¡­

    The ground shook beneath his feet, so softly that most would have missed it. Not Yuan though. Years of surviving on his own had sharpened his reflexes enough to notice such tiny details, and what they meant.

    Yuan caught the mandibles aiming for his throat in a flash of speed.

    The monster, a brown centipede as long as a man, surged out of the ground in an eruption of dust. Yuan grabbed its two fangs with his bare hands and held firm as they tried to close in on his neck. Two sets of black compound eyes glared back at him with a glint of malicious intelligence.

    A centidead. Their kind always went for the throat. .

    The centidead screeched and tried to free itself from Yuan¡¯s grip, to no avail. Though he considered himself a gunslinger first and foremost, Yuan was no stranger to brawls. He was strong and tall, his skin bearing the scars of the many fights he had lived through. This centidead was a young larva, its jaw soft and underdeveloped.

    Yuan used his superior strength to forcefully widen the gap between the monster¡¯s mandibles, slowly cracking the head open, as all the while the centidead¡¯s tail coiled around his chest in a last-ditch attempt to choke him to death.

    Too late. Yuan snapped the creature¡¯s mandibles like twigs with one last push of strength. Thick black blood erupted from the monster¡¯s head and stained his skin. The centidead released its grip on Yuan as it fell to the ground choking on its own body fluids. Yuan promptly finished it off by stabbing it in the eyes with its own broken off fangs. The centidead shrieked and thrashed on the ground for a good minute until its body finally turned inert.

    ¡°One step¡­¡± Yuan clenched his teeth in annoyance. ¡°I take one step into this place and I¡¯m already ambushed.¡± S?a??h the ???el F?re.n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Kyung-sun was right. No caretaker spirit in their right mind would tolerate a centidead infestation in their dominion. Their entire lifecycle involved possessing corpses and animating them as undead vessels. They served no purpose and their flesh was poisonous. They were .

    At least their body plates made for pretty good armor.

    Yuan quickly checked his hands to make sure the fangs hadn¡¯t penetrated his skin¡ªsince centidead were venomous¡ªand then put the broken mandibles in his bag. He would sharpen them into blades later. Afterward, he carried the dead monster over his shoulder for future harvesting.

    Taming a spirit-car and leaving the region in one piece might prove a little more difficult than expected¡­

 Chapter 7: Bullet Cultivation

    Tracking down a spirit-car was no different from catching an animal. One needed to learn of the target¡¯s location, set up a trap, and then bait it to its doom.It didn¡¯t take Yuan long to find wheel marks among the rusty dunes and stone roads. Considering how many of them there were, he expected to find a wild herd driving around.

    The gasoline canister would prove too much of a delicacy for a wild vehicle to resist, but taming a spirit-car involved jumping into the driver¡¯s seat and surviving the rage-fueled trip that followed. Yuan would have to find a location where he could sneak up on his target undetected. A narrow pass or an elevated spot would do.

    Yuan walked around the badlands searching for one such place. He traveled barefoot to better sense vibrations in the ground and easily noticed centideads crawling underground every step of the way. None of them dared to attack him though.

    Funny how parading a bleeding corpse around kept trouble away.

    However, walking around for hours was starting to take its toll on Yuan. After climbing atop a dune of iron sand, he surveyed the area in search of a viable hiding spot to set up camp for the night.

    He quickly noticed a viable choice a short walk north: the carcass of a colossal machine slumbering on half-buried tracks. Its boiler was larger than a house; its ancient wheels were larger than Yuan himself, and a chimney stood at the forefront alongside a cyclopean, inactive headlamp. Yuan had seen one of these Lost Age machines in the past at a junkyard.

    Its owner called it a .

    Yuan didn¡¯t see how this metal behemoth could have ever helped anyone train, but he had no interest in solving Lost Age mysteries. He supposed the first cultivator used these contraptions to weight-lift.

    It would make for a good hideout for the night in any case. He would resume his hunt for a spirit-car in the morning after a short rest.

    Yuan did notice a strange oddity as he walked towards the train: a group of cacti wearing ponchos and broad-brimmed hats lined up at the machine¡¯s side, taking in the shade. Though such strange scenes were not unusual in the Thunderlands, Yuan kept his revolver ready to fire at the first sign of trouble.

    A small rusted ladder allowed him to climb his way up to an old metal door leading inside the train. A good kick forced it open, revealing a strange room filled with moldy benches and a set of pistons, gears, and other contraptions. An inactive oven lay at the center. Yuan assumed this used to be the mechanist¡¯s bedroom or something. He had no idea how to wake up this titan of steel¡ªif it remained functional at all¡ªbut it would provide an excellent defensive position.

    ¡°Perfect,¡± Yuan muttered to himself upon checking the windows. The left side was buried by the sand, and the right one gave him an excellent angle to shoot down any monster trying to sneak up on him. ¡°I can defend this place.¡±

    Closing the door behind himself for added safety and dropping the centidead corpse to the ground, Yuan sat on the nearest bench and allowed himself a moment to breathe.

    . Yuan closed his eyes and focused on his bullet core. He sensed it faintly pulsing inside his flesh and bones. It hungered for what the Thunderlands had to offer.

    Yuan had seen most cultivators practice in a lotus position, so he adopted one himself. He found it hideously uncomfortable, but at least it forced him to focus on his body. He kept his revolver in hand, however.

    The Thunderlands breathed qi, and this cabin in the middle of nowhere was no exception. Yuan sensed the power floating around him; whereas the wasteland around Gatesville had been a polluted desert, the region felt like the edge of a thunderstorm. Yuan simply had to open his mouth to drink the region¡¯s energies.

    Which he did.

    Yuan inhaled and guided the qi inside him. The sensation of striking lightning coursed through his body. The power flowed inside him, strands of pure gold surging with electricity. His brain erupted with sharp pain around his bullet-core.

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    Yuan gasped as his eyes snapped open. His bullet-core pounded in his skull like an overtaxed heart. He massaged his head and waited for the pain to pass. S~?a??h the N0v?lFir?.?et website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡°Too much¡­¡± His body wasn¡¯t yet used to cycling such amounts of energy. ¡°Gotta go slower. Don¡¯t skip the steps, Yuan.¡±

    This time, Yuan tried to take in the minimum amount of qi into his body before he began to cycle. The qi became a lot more tolerable once he reduced the input. Instead of drinking lightning, he simply charged his bullet-core like a battery. It continued to beat in his skull as it drank the qi, but it no longer threatened to burst and blow up Yuan¡¯s brain.

    Revolver had informed him that most cultivators channeled their qi through their dantian cores. Yuan sensed them when he focused on his body, in his stomach, in his heart, and between his eyes. The parts of him that would have awoken if he had consumed a pill and become a cultivator the ¡®normal¡¯ way remained after his transformation into a Gunsoul.

    They simply in the process.

    They were dead zones inside his own flesh. When Yuan breathed, his bullet-core redirected the qi entering his lungs back to itself before redistributing it back to the rest of his body. It allowed no competition for that precious resource.

    Slash had shot him straight in his upper dantian core. It could have been a coincidence, but Yuan found it more likely that it was some sort of final insult: a Scrap slain by a blow in the very place that would have made him a cultivator. Yet another reason for Yuan to loathe the bastard.

    His bullet-core had done more than just destroy his upper dantian core on its way in though.

    It had taken .

    With each cycle of his qi coursing his veins, Yuan grew more aware of his own body. He began to see the lead tendrils worming their way into his brain. Strands of metal coiled around his bones, set his neurons alight with gunpowder, and pumped oil into his blood vessels.

    Yuan¡¯s bullet-core did more than save his life. It was changing him. It took the qi from the outside world and used it to grow. The first thought that crossed his mind was that of a parasite asserting itself on its host; though it could also be a seed spreading its roots in fertile soil and enriching it. It did keep Yuan alive after all.

    At this rate, the tendrils would begin to work their way down the spine and slowly overtake the rest of Yuan¡¯s body. It made sense for Gunsouls to have a metal elemental affinity when their veins turned into iron and lead.

    Was that what Revolver meant when he said that passing the Second Coil involved reinforcing one¡¯s body until it could sustain a technique? Should Yuan allow the bullet-core to change him?

    Change him into ?

    Revolver had told him earlier.

    Would he grow a gun for a nose? Or gain triggers for hands?

    Somehow the thought didn¡¯t bother Yuan as much as he expected it to. He had spent twenty years being looked down upon as a Scrap, and he wasn¡¯t particularly bothered by his appearance. In the Unmade World, nobody cared how you looked; people judged others on their strength alone. If having his veins turn to lead and his skin to steel was the price to pay for the Gun Path¡¯s power, Yuan was more than willing to pay it.

    A pity though. Mingxia used to call him handsome in spite of his scars.

    Turning his attention away from his body, Yuan expanded his consciousness outward to better focus on the flow of qi. He remembered the lessons of the Stoneskin Sect: that the goal of all cultivation Paths, no matter their kind, was to become one with the Dao. To find their Way.

    The Dao, the Way, the Axiom. So many names to define something that encompasses all of existence; the origin and summation of all things. Yuan felt its presence all around him. He had been blind all his life, but now he saw it . The Thunderlands¡¯ qi sprung directly from it, like how the sun radiated sunlight. Its golden hue swirled around him as the very essence of sorcery.

    Even then, the gold carried strands of green. Of sickness. The same radiation that Yuan sensed in the wasteland had infected this region.

    The source of the Thunderlands¡¯ power lay farther to the west. It looked akin to the eye of a sandstorm to Yuan¡¯s senses: the closer to the center, the deadlier the current. The rad-hag probably set up shop there.

    All Thunderlands manifested a caretaker spirit; a physical incarnation of the region itself. Yuan once heard that the first Longs descended from them. The corrupted rad-hag ruling over this patch didn¡¯t feel too strong, but he would rather avoid picking up a fight with it now with his limited resources.

    Yuan continued to cycle his qi for the Waybringers knew how long, rationing the amount that went into his bullet-core. He would increase the amount coming in with each session once he got the hang of it. By the time he emerged from his meditation, his exhaustion had all but vanished and his body surged with newfound strength.

    His hand moved to his forehead and touched it. The lead veins surging from his bullet-core had spread further like a great scar and now reached the eyes. Yuan would probably start to look quite ghoulish after a few sessions.

    All Paths led to the Dao in their own unique way. The Spiral Dancer practiced a dance so entrancing that it opened the heavens¡¯ gates; the Sky-Biter devoured so many sins that he achieved enlightenment; the Fleshmancer perfected themselves into the perfect lifeform¡­ Each of the Waybringers had ascended upon reaching the apex of their discipline.

    Where would the Path of the Gun lead him?

 Chapter 8: Night Showdown

    Yuan found it difficult to sleep with all the lightning.He had spent the better part of his evening skewering the centidead¡¯s corpse and tying its chitinous plates together with the rope he got from Kyung-sun around his chest. This makeshift armor wouldn¡¯t stop bullets or blades, but it would lessen their impact. That tiny bit of help often meant the difference between life and death. As for the centidead¡¯s corpse, he put it in the train¡¯s oven for storage. Maybe he would find a use for it later.

    Night had fallen upon the Thunderlands by then. The mercury sun had been replaced with a black moon in a sea of dimmed, multicolored auroras. The spirit thunderstorm had worsened since. Lightning struck the wasteland around the train and woke Yuan up before he could manage an hour of sleep. It was starting to get annoying.

    At least Yuan wouldn¡¯t have to fear the Moonburn. The veil around the Thunderlands blocked the influence of the other Wayfinders, so he wouldn¡¯t have to fear either night horrors or ghosts returning from the Nowhere.

    ¡°Smelled¡­¡±

    Yuan immediately awoke from his half-slumber. He had heard a voice coming from outside in between two thunder strikes.

    Grabbing his backpack and gun, Yuan sneaked up closer to the window. The flashes of lightning let him see the outlines of humanoid figures approaching from the east. Four, maybe five. Yuan briefly mistook them for human marauders until he noticed their tusks, fangs, bulging eyes, and that their gold-colored skin was as thick as leather hides.

    They all gripped spiked clubs in their clawed fingers and wore makeshift armor, with one exception. The biggest of them went unarmed and favored tattered monk robes over better defenses. His fiery red mane cascaded over two sharp horns.

    A tribe of oni. Wonderful.

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    ¡°The scent stops here,¡± the red-maned oni grunted. ¡°The sweet smell of human flesh.¡±

    ¡°Smells more like a centidead to me, Teacher,¡± another oni argued. ¡°The buggers must have found a new host.¡±

    Teacher. The leader was almost certainly a cultivator. He couldn¡¯t be too high up the Coils with such a small band though.

    ¡°This one is too fresh,¡± the leader insisted, a forked tongue flicking out between his fangs. ¡°Tasty too.¡±

    Yuan loved target practice. This would be a fine opportunity to test Revolver¡¯s qi bullet tactic. Still, he would have to be careful with his limited ammo.

    Unable to open the window, Yuan readied his gun. He cautiously aimed at the tribe¡¯s leader. With luck, his death would cause the rest to scamper off. The oni hadn¡¯t noticed him yet, so the first shot would be his.

    Yuan cycled his qi inside his body and focused on his revolver. His breath coiled around its cylinder and filled the bullets with power.

    Yuan pulled the trigger and his barrel spewed fire.

    The bullet shattered the train¡¯s window on its way out in a blazing burst of speed. The sudden movement alerted the oni leader. His body instantly transformed into golden mist, and Yuan¡¯s projectile phased through him. The qi-powered bullet instead hit one of the lesser oni in the chest, the impact blasting its torso apart with the strength of a cannonball.

    Yuan¡¯s amazement at this display of strength only lasted until the oni leader regained his physical form. His red eyes glared at the train¡¯s cabin with malice and swiftly noticed Yuan. He immediately charged in his direction with his remaining followers roaring at his back.

    ¡°Shit!¡± Yuan cursed as he fired a second bullet at the oni leader. Like before, he simply turned into golden mist and let the projectile pass through the fog his body became. The bullet instead blasted apart one of the poncho cacti near the train.

    As if to defend themselves against an attack, the rest of the plants immediately contracted all at once. Their thousand needles then erupted in a volley striking from all directions.

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    Yuan immediately took cover under the window to avoid being hit. The oni, too close to dodge, had no such luck. The projectiles pierced their thick skin and impaled their eyes. Their screams of pain echoed across the wasteland.

    Then the spirit lightning struck the train.

    Electricity coursed through the machine¡¯s metal bowels, jolting Yuan back onto a bench. The Thunderlands infused the train with spiritual power in a flash of golden radiance.

    The gears and pistons whistled at once. They began to turn and push on their own, while the oven suddenly caught fire. Ghostly blue flames consumed the centidead corpse inside and unleashed a stream of steam through pipes in the wall. The entire train began to tremble, shaking off the sand covering it.

    The engine returned to life with a beastly roar.

    Yuan barely managed to hang onto the bench as the train began to move on its own. It swiftly burrowed out the dunes, a centidead-like body of a dozen wagons emerging at the locomotive¡¯s back. The train¡¯s chimney breathed qi-charged multicolored steam as it began to drive west on a set of blazing tracks.

    The oni leader, the only one who had avoided the needles, returned to his physical form and continued the pursuit. He swiftly jumped onto the train and managed to hang onto one of the wagons. His students failed to follow; one clumsily collapsed a few inches away from his destination and another fell off in an instant. The rest were too wounded by the cacti to even bother.

    Unwilling to fight an oni inside the driver¡¯s cabin where he couldn¡¯t aim well, Yuan exited it and climbed onto its roof. The train drove at a steady pace across the wasteland, but not fast enough to throw Yuan off it. He leaped onto the second wagon and found the oni leader waiting for him at the other end of it. A dozen meters separated them.

    Now that he had come closer, the oni¡¯s face began to remind Yuan of Slash¡¯s mask. He would putting a bullet between these red eyes.

    ¡°It¡¯s been a while since the great Toshiro last feasted on a cultivator¡¯s flesh!¡± the oni boasted, his closed fists raised in a fighting stance. ¡°Any last words?¡±

    ¡°Kill yourself and spare me the trouble,¡± Yuan replied coldly.

    The oni declined his offer with a laugh and ran straight at him.

    Yuan didn¡¯t bother stopping him with suppressing fire. He only had four bullets left and none to waste. However, the oni shouldn¡¯t be able to attack and turn to mist at the same time. Yuan¡¯s best odds were to draw him into melee and then shoot him in close range before he could strike.

    So he charged into the fray too.

    The two duelists met halfway across the wagon, with the so-called Toshiro opening hostilities with a lightning fast punch to the face. His move was simple and easy to predict, so Yuan easily dodged by moving his head to the side. He responded with an uppercut in the oni¡¯s jaw.

    The oni¡¯s skin didn¡¯t feel bulletproof to the touch, but he was well-versed enough in the cultivation arts to use a technique. Probably a Second Coil. Yuan had killed a few of those in the past through trickery, but never before had he traded blows with one in melee for long.

    There was a beginning for everything.

    Toshiro followed up with a flurry of quick blows which Yuan quickly deflected. The same sensation returned each time his palm pressed against the oni¡¯s arm to redirect his attack; a slight pressure in his wrist, almost imperceptible.

    Yuan wondered. A faint sound came from his arm, almost metallic.

    Though Yuan tried to keep a cool head, a powerful rush coursed through his body. He, a former Scrap, was now trading blows with an oni cultivator and pushing him back. Yuan had finally leaped over that gulf of power that separated him from the elites spitting down on him, and it felt .

    Frustrated with his failure at hitting Yuan, Toshiro leaned forward to bite his face off with his fangs. Yuan kicked him in the foot before he could get anywhere close and made him trip. The oni fell to the ground with a loud thump and found himself temporarily helpless.

    Seizing his chance, Yuan pointed his revolver at Toshiro¡¯s head and shot him at point-blank range. The oni managed to turn into mist one instant before the bullet could hit his skull. The projectile phased through his foggy head and punched through the wagon underneath them.

    Toshiro¡¯s leg made a sweeping motion the moment he regained physical form and hit Yuan¡¯s ankles, causing him to fall to his back. He rolled across the wagon and barely managed to leap back to his feet, just in time for Toshiro to kick him in the chest next.

    Oni possessed inhuman strength and this one was no exception. Toshiro¡¯s feet would have crashed through Yuan¡¯s rib cage without his makeshift armor. The centidead carapace instead absorbed most of the impact, though it caused Yuan to stumble back.

    ¡°Coward!¡± Toshiro snarled at Yuan. ¡°What kind of self-respecting martial artist wears armor?¡±

    Now back on his feet, Toshiro closed onto Yuan before he could regain his bearing. Yuan instinctively avoided a lethal punch to the face and countered by hitting the oni in the chest with an open-palm strike.

    His wrist let out a clicking noise, like the pull of a trigger.

    A surge of pain erupted in his hand, followed by a strong shockwave that sent Toshiro flying back. Yuan grunted as the blowback spread through his arm. The blow hurt him as much as his opponent.

    Toshiro managed to land on the wagon¡¯s edge. Yuan expected him to fall off the train for a second, but the oni managed to regain his footing. From the way he held onto his chest with his left hand, the blow must have cracked a rib or two.

    Toshiro cautiously squinted at Yuan¡¯s hand. ¡°What was ?¡±

    Yuan realized.

 Chapter 9: Bullet Man

    The blow had hurt Yuan almost as much as his opponent.Revolver warned him that a First Coil¡¯s body couldn¡¯t sustain a technique, and the pain in Yuan¡¯s right wrist keenly reminded him of that advice. That Recoil Fist trick might break his own arm if executed poorly, so he couldn¡¯t rely on it to win this fight.

    Yuan was careful to show none of his anguish to his opponent. Toshiro studied his face for any sign of weakness, then laughed and began to wave his hands in wide circles. A faint yellow haze began to form around his fingers.

    ¡°Few have survived long enough to see this technique of mine!¡± Toshiro boasted. ¡°Die with my highest praise!¡±

    Yuan ignored the blowhard¡¯s boast and focused on his hands. The mist had grown thicker around them and now spread to his forearms until it completely obscured them. The oni now seemed to have clouds growing from his shoulders.

    Toshiro leaped at him once again, waving the mists around him. Yuan raised his arms to protect himself from his foe¡¯s punches, only to see the oni¡¯s hands vanish in the fog. A phantom blow bypassed his guard and nearly blew his head off his shoulders. Yuan¡¯s reflexes barely let him bend his neck to the right and avoid a fatal strike; a fact that surprised him as much as it terrified him. Cycling qi had improved his body and reaction time.

    But all the best reflexes in the world wouldn¡¯t save him from invisible strikes.

    ! The yellow mist shrouding the oni¡¯s fists obscured their motion, preventing Yuan from properly deflecting them. All he could do was shield his exposed head with his arms.

    Toshiro struck him in the chest again and his palm broke the centidead¡¯s carapace armor. Yuan had no choice but to back up a few steps to gather himself, but the oni refused to give him any breathing room. He immediately closed in on Yuan before he could take aim with his revolver.

    Unable to see his foe¡¯s hands and knowing he would turn into mist if he tried to punch back, Yuan switched to targeting Toshiro¡¯s legs. A sweeping kick forced Toshiro to leap backward to avoid being thrown off his feet.

    Yuan¡¯s eyes widened as he sensed a slight pressure in his heel when it touched the ground. Could it be¡­

    ¡°Had enough?¡± Toshiro taunted him. ¡°You can¡¯t even see your death coming!¡±

    Yuan ignored him, his mind set on a plan. He quickly calculated the angle required for his next maneuver. Any misstep would get him thrown off the train, and he doubted he would have the strength to stand on his two feet afterward.

    Yuan briefly stretched his legs for the final sprint.

    Yuan charged at Toshiro with his wounded hand raised. He raced across the train with all of his speed, his posture that of a hand-to-hand fighter aiming to land a knockout punch. Toshiro laughed at his challenge and rushed to meet him. His eyes focused on Yuan¡¯s closed fist, and not on the one holding the revolver. Excellent.

    Three, two, one¡­

    When the two duelists were within reach of each other, Yuan stomped the ground with all his might. A clicking sound resonated in his heel.

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    A mighty recoil blast tossed him up in the air.

    Time slowed down for Yuan. A split second stretched on forever in his mind as his body was thrown above the train and oni alike. The sharp pain in his leg enhanced his focus; his eyes focused on Toshiro¡¯s head and at the look of confusion on the oni¡¯s face. His opponent was in front of him one moment and had disappeared the next.

    The brain briefly froze to assess the situation when faced with a sudden change, resulting in a brief window of time when a person couldn¡¯t make a good judgment call¡ªthat moment of weakness never lasted more than a microsecond with trained fighters.

    Toshiro was strong, but inexperienced. Countless thoughts must have crossed his mind all at once. Look up, turn to mist, duck, blink¡­

    Yuan pointed his gun at his target in midair and charged it with his qi.

    Yuan blew Toshiro¡¯s brains out before he could react.

    The oni¡¯s skull exploded in a shower of bones and blood on impact. Yuan¡¯s projectile continued its course until it hit the wagon¡¯s roof and bent its metal hide into a small crater. The train¡¯s engine let out a roar that could pass for one of pain, like a great beast stung by a wasp.

    Yuan smiled with joy upon seeing Toshiro¡¯s corpse fall in defeat. The impact of his own body crashing on the wagon and the pain that followed was almost worth it.

    His joy turned to fear as he bounced off the wagon.

    Yuan barely had time to grab a metal bar near a window sill with his wounded hand, a gesture that spared him a close encounter with the ground below. The pain in his wrist flared with atrocious agony so Yuan bit his own tongue so as not to scream. s?a??h th? n0v?l(?)ire.?et website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡°Ghr¡­¡± Sensing his strength leaving him, Yuan repeatedly hit the window with his elbow. The old glass shattered easily and let him crawl back inside the train, though at the cost of a few cuts for his trouble. He rolled into a strange, dust-filled car full of ancient seats. Only when his back safely rested on the iron floor and his face faced the crooked ceiling did he finally allow himself to breathe. ¡°Ah¡­¡±

    How long did Yuan lay there, inhaling and exhaling to the tune of the train bumping along the ground? Minutes, hours? His bullet core pounding in his skull. He half expected the oni to return from the dead and finish him off, yet only the distant thunder kept him company.

    Eventually, Yuan managed to recover enough to crawl onto the nearest seat. The pain in his wrist and heel slowly lessened, though both remained sprained. He quickly massaged them while focusing on his qi. It didn¡¯t feel like he had broken any bones, so he should be fine after a short rest.

    That battle cost him four bullets out of six. Yuan considered it a good trade for the pleasure of killing a Second Coil cultivator in a fair duel.

    All his life, he had been forced to keep his head down or scavenge table scraps from the likes of Toshiro. Whenever he had faced First and Second Coils, he had no choice but to rely on surprise and ambushes to take them out. Kill them before they even knew what hit them. Such battles used to terrify him.

    This time, he had triumphed over a Second Coil through his own power. He¡¯d faced Toshiro head-on and beat him anyway.

    Jaw-Long and Mingxia would have been proud.

    Yuan glanced at the broken window and the sky beyond it. The moon¡¯s movement indicated that the spirit-train was traveling westward. It was crossing thunder-blasted deserts and badlands faster than any kirin.

    Yuan thought that cultivators used trains to, well, train, but now he wondered if it wasn¡¯t some kind of giant spirit-car. Perhaps even their natural predator.

    Yuan wondered how far it would go. He assumed that the spirit-train would eventually stop somewhere to feed, but this remained an educated guess. He might have to jump off the metal beast once he recovered or risk becoming its meal.

    ¡°At least it¡¯s traveling in the right direction,¡± Yuan muttered to himself. ¡°Jaw-Long, can you fetch my map¨C¡±

    Yuan stopped himself mid-sentence. His exhaustion and force of habit got the better of him.

    The memory of his dead comrades¡¯ loss soured Yuan¡¯s mood. He closed his eyes and prepared to cycle his qi as a way to distract himself from his morosity, when he noticed a faint light in the distance. He glanced at the landscape, where a faint line of mercury light slowly covered the horizon.

    Dawn had come to the Thunderlands, and a fleet of spirit-cars rode under the sunlight.

    Yuan watched on with sudden interest as a great herd of cars appeared in the distance.

    Dozens of vehicles great and small drove across the badlands, their approach raising a cloud of dust behind them. No one sat behind their wheels. The noise of their engines overcame even that of the roaring thunder. Yuan smiled to himself as he witnessed their sunrise ride.

    The hunt was on.

 Chapter 10: Human Pillar

    Yuan spent hours cycling his qi.He¡¯d seen cultivators recover from heavy wounds within hours, and the exercise taught him why. Qi fueled the body, binding broken parts together, soothing bruises, and reinforcing the flesh. His wrist and heel quickly healed.

    Moreover, his core¡¯s tendrils had started spreading to his spine. Dining on the Thunderlands¡¯ energies let Yuan foster their growth tenfold. Once they had covered his entire bone structure he should be able to use the Recoil Fist without suffering from the blowback and fuel the Elemental Infusion technique.

    How long would that process take? Days? Weeks? Yuan felt like an hour of cycling in the Thunderlands was worth a hundred in the wilderness, but he had no idea how long it took a Gunsoul to reach the Second Coil.

    A slight bump drew him from his meditation.

    The spirit-train was slowing down.

    Yuan looked outside his window to check on the path ahead. A building appeared in the distance: an ancient, two-floor tall ruin of brick and rusted steel rising from the sand like a centidead from a corpse. An antique stone platform rested along the phantom trail on which the spirit-train rode.

    Was this place of great importance to the spirit-train? Some kind of feeding ground? The spirit-car herd riding nearby wasn¡¯t slowing down when approaching it at least.

    Yuan sat in his seat as the spirit-train slowed down to a crawl along the platform. It let out a whistle and let loose a cloud of colored smoke from its chimney, then stopped.

    Unwilling to climb off in case the creature woke up again, Yuan first exited his wagon to climb back onto the roof. Toshiro¡¯s beheaded corpse was still there, lying in a puddle of blood. Funny how oni bled red like everyone else.

    The Thunderlands¡¯ veil would prevent the Deathsong¡¯s influence from summoning the oni¡¯s ghost, but leaving the corpse around might cause a centidead to take it over. A dangerous prospect considering Toshiro used to be a Second Coil. Yuan decided to err on the side of caution and feed the oni¡¯s remains to the spirit-train¡¯s oven after checking the corpse for any valuables.

    Unfortunately, Toshiro didn¡¯t carry anything useful. No ammo, no currency he could use, no nothing. His flesh didn¡¯t earn Yuan anything either: the spirit-train¡¯s engine simply burned Toshiro¡¯s body without starting up again.

    This greatly disappointed Yuan. He was tempted to tame the spirit-train after seeing it in action, but he had no idea how to do so. He didn¡¯t even know whether it fed on gasoline or something else. With the vehicle refusing to budge and nothing left to lose, Yuan climbed down from the front car and stepped onto the platform.

    The ancient building faced him, tall and silent. Its broken windows were devoid of glass and its doors had long since lost their hinges. A metal sign written in a language Yuan didn¡¯t understand hung from the dusty facade. Though the place already appeared ransacked, he might find a few useful supplies inside.

    Yuan only took a few steps towards the entrance when his spine stiffened in alarm.

    ¡°Show yourself.¡± When no one answered his demand, Yuan grabbed his revolver. ¡°Show yourself or be cut down!¡±

    A dreadful silence settled on the mysterious building, only broken by the sound of distant thunder strikes. Yuan was about to start shooting when a rugged figure finally emerged from the entrance¡¯s shadows. An old man seemingly in his late sixties walked with his hands up in the air.

    ¡°Easy fella,¡± he said with a crooked grin that didn¡¯t reach his weary eyes. His gray beard reminded Yuan of a wild mane and inked wolf tattoos covered his sleeveless arms. His dirty clothes showcased strange badges from the Lost Age. ¡°Easy. I¡¯m not here to fight.¡±

    He didn¡¯t look armed, but Yuan kept his revolver pointed at his head nonetheless.

    ¡° of you,¡± Yuan insisted. ¡°Tell your comrade to come out or you¡¯ll die.¡±

    ¡°I see you¡¯re not the trusting kind.¡± The old man rolled his eyes and looked over his shoulder. ¡°Gru? Show yourself.¡±

    Another man walked out of the building with a shotgun in hand. Unlike his comrade, this one was a bald colossus towering over Yuan. Patchwork armor of battle-worn ceramic plates protected most of his body, while a canister bandolier was strapped to his chest. His cold eyes appraised Yuan with grim stoicism and his finger twitched on his weapon¡¯s trigger.

    They didn¡¯t look like cultivators and Yuan didn¡¯t sense any other presence, but he knew better than to lower his guard.

    ¡°I¡¯m Maurice, and this big guy¡¯s called Gru,¡± the old man said with a friendly grin. He pointed at the spirit-train. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to be that machine¡¯s driver, would ya?¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Yuan replied warily. The less information he gave away, the better. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Because we¡¯ve been holed up in this place for days and we need a ride.¡± Maurice let out a sigh. ¡°We used to belong to a caravan, but it got wiped out.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe you,¡± Yuan replied. ¡°Sane traders wouldn¡¯t travel through the Thunderlands.¡±

    The colossus, Gru, grunted. ¡°They would if they had encountered that damn gunslinger.¡±

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    ¡°Well said,¡± Maurice replied. ¡°If you want the full story, oh nameless stranger, a skull-faced cultivator hunted us across the wastes. I¡¯ve never seen someone blow up trucks with a bullet before.¡±

    ¡°A gunslinger?¡± Yuan squinted. He had a fair idea of who these people referred to. ¡°Revolver?¡±

    Maurice raised an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯ve met the guy?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen his poster,¡± Yuan replied evasively. He wondered why Revolver would attack this group. He doubted someone willing to give a former Scrap a free ride through the wasteland would rob a merchant caravan without a damn good reason, so it made him wary of these two.

    ¡°Be thankful you didn¡¯t meet him in the flesh. Bugger wiped out half our escort before we could lose him through the Thunderlands.¡± Maurice shook his head. ¡°A costly mistake that was. Out of the fire and into the frying pan.¡±

    ¡°The local rad-hag sent oni thugs after us,¡± Gru said. ¡°They broke our car.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve encountered a few oni myself,¡± Yuan confessed. Although he didn¡¯t trust these guys, he decided to give them a chance. Whatever reason Revolver targeted them wasn¡¯t his problem, and he needed all the help he could get to survive the Thunderlands. ¡°I don¡¯t drive the spirit-train. It drives itself. I don¡¯t know why it stopped here.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Maurice didn¡¯t hide his disappointment. ¡°That sucks.¡±

    ¡°I know my way with cars though,¡± Yuan said. ¡°Maybe I can repair yours.¡±

    ¡°I doubt you can, but who knows?¡± Maurice glanced at Yuan¡¯s revolver. ¡°Can I¡­¡±

    Yuan nodded and allowed Maurice to lower his hands. The old man swiftly invited him to the back of the building, where an old sedan rested in its shadow. Gru kept his shotgun ready to fire all the way through.

    Yuan immediately knew that the car would never drive again the moment he saw it. The bodywork showed claw marks and the right door at the front was bent inward. He quickly checked the engine nonetheless. It was in better shape than the rest of the vehicle, but that didn¡¯t mean much.

    ¡°The battery and alternator are dead,¡± Yuan said. ¡°Pouring in more gasoline won¡¯t help.¡±

    ¡°Figured as much,¡± Maurice replied with a groan. ¡°Anything that could help repair it on that big metal thing you rode in on?¡±

    ¡°No clue.¡± Yuan doubted that the train would even allow them to remove pieces of it even if they fit. ¡°We¡¯re better off catching a spirit-car.¡±

    Maurice crossed his arms, his expression furrowing into a thoughtful scowl. ¡°What are you doing in these parts, fella?¡±

    ¡°Taking a shortcut to Fleshmarket.¡±

    ¡°Funny, we intended to stop there as well.¡± Maurice offered him his palm. ¡°How about we team up? We watch each other¡¯s back until we escape this blasted place and return to civilization.¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Yuan replied after shaking the man¡¯s hand. Such alliances were not unusual in the wastes. Numbers provided safety and they would have nothing to gain from robbing one another. ¡°The name¡¯s Yuan.¡±

    ¡°Happy to make your acquaintance.¡± Maurice smiled ear to ear. ¡°Scraps like us gotta stick together.¡±

    Scraps? Oh, of course. Few cultivators bothered to carry a gun for self-defense.

    A thump came from the car¡¯s trunk.

    The sound was so soft, so small, that Yuan thought he had misheard it at first. Gru disabused him of that notion when he slammed the trunk with the back of his hand. The sound echoed again nonetheless.

    ¡°I think she wants to pee,¡± Gru told Maurice.

    . The word sent a chill down Yuan¡¯s spine.

    ¡°Again?¡± Maurice complained. ¡°We already let her out yesterday.¡±

    It took all of Yuan¡¯s willpower not to show his distaste. He suddenly understood why Revolver went after these two¡¯s caravan.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Yuan asked, careful to sound as neutral as he could manage.

    ¡°I guess you should see it,¡± Maurice replied with a shrug as they moved to the back of the car. ¡°Our package.¡±

    Maurice opened the trunk, and Yuan soon found himself staring back at a pair of fearful blue eyes.

    A small girl no older than ten was bound and gagged inside the trunk. She was so pale and gaunt that Yuan would have easily mistaken her for a corpse without her soft breath. Her ragged clothes ill-fit her scrawny body, and her shaggy red hair was blackened by dirt. An explosive slave collar held her neck tightly bound in a mechanical chokehold.

    Something about her disturbed Yuan to his core beyond her current state. The girl¡¯s qi felt unnatural, like a cloud of darkness and green miasma.

    ¡°Pretty girl, ain¡¯t she?¡± Maurice laughed as he pinched the girl¡¯s cheek. She recoiled in fear and disgust, which only amused the slaver. ¡°Look at how healthy she is.¡±

    ¡°She feels¡­¡± Yuan struggled to find the right term. He had a hard time focusing past his overwhelming disgust. ¡°Wrong.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you could tell.¡± Maurice sneered at the child. ¡°She''s a .¡±

    Yuan had heard of them. These were specially prepared human sacrifices. They could be used to strengthen a land¡¯s qi flow, fuel feng shui rituals, suppress evil spirits, or pay supernatural entities. Amoral sects and warlocks paid top money for them.

    This explained why the rad-hag¡¯s servants attacked the caravan too. The mad spirit either sought to consume that girl for power or ensure that no one would use her to cleanse the Thunderlands.

    Maurice mistook his thoughtful expression for greed. ¡°Don¡¯t get any ideas,¡± he warned Yuan. ¡°The buyer will only answer to us. Don¡¯t think you can kill us and sell her back.¡±

    ¡°The idea never crossed my mind,¡± Yuan replied. That wasn¡¯t even a lie. The idea of transporting human cargo sickened him. ¡°Who purchased her anyway?¡±

    ¡°A Furyland sect elder in the northwest.¡± Maurice shrugged his shoulders. ¡°I dunno what they¡¯ll do with her. Maybe they¡¯ll keep her around to ward off spirits. I ain¡¯t a cultivator myself.¡±

    Yuan clenched his jaw when the girl looked at him with a gaze full of fear. The wisest thing was to look the other way. They were all stranded in the middle of a desert with little hope for rescue. Traveling with a group, even a loathsome one, was better than fighting on his own.

    And yet, seeing her like this¡­

    Yuan tried to tell himself.

    ¡°But between us¡­¡± Maurice let out a dark chuckle. ¡°I¡¯ve heard that her buyer is one hell of a dirty degenerate pervert.¡±

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    Yuan reached his decision. The helpless Scrap he used to be would have chosen pragmatism over what was right. Being born weak meant eating dirt to live long enough to see the next dawn.

    But he was a Gunsoul now. A cultivator. He was strong.

    He didn¡¯t have to compromise anymore.

    Yuan quickly calculated his odds and timing. Striking later meant that he could keep these two as helpers and human shields; but knowing slavers, their alliance would only last until they left the Thunderlands anyway. Doing it now meant that they wouldn¡¯t expect it and that he could take their supplies.

    ¡°Do you do sales?¡± Yuan asked Maurice after he closed the trunk. ¡°Or discounts?¡±

    ¡°What kind?¡±

    Yuan drew his pistol in the blink of an eye and jumped to the side, positioning himself so that Maurice would stand between him and Gru. The latter immediately raised his shotgun, too late.

    Yuan shot Maurice dead before he could react.

    The qi-charged bullet blasted his chest open and then continued its course through his back. It pulverized Gru¡¯s skull into a shower of blood, bones, and brains. Both men collapsed to the ground, their lives extinguished in an instant.

    ¡°The ballistic kind.¡± Yuan holstered his gun. ¡°You guys weren¡¯t worth two bullets.¡±

    What did Revolver say? Ah yes.

    Sometimes you had to take out the trash.

 Chapter 11: Holster

    Disarming an explosive collar demanded a certain degree of dexterity.¡°Hold still,¡± Yuan told the girl as he rewired the cables. The Hitobashira didn¡¯t move an inch, nor did she speak a word. She instead looked at her feet dangling from the dead car¡¯s backseat. ¡°Almost done.¡±

    Yuan had taken the liberty of shoving both of Maurice and Gru¡¯s corpses into the spirit-train¡¯s oven before freeing the girl. Killing those two shitstains and searching through their possessions proved to be a very lucrative choice. Gru carried a top-notch 12 gauge shotgun, semi-automatic, with twelve shells left. The ceramic armor fit Yuan like a glove too, and his canisters held enough booze and water to last a week. As for Maurice, Yuan found a small and fully loaded .357 revolver alongside a first aid kit hidden on his person.

    The two stashed their treasure trove in their car, however. A portable radio, cigarettes, inhaled drugs, a purse of silver coins bearing the Flesh Mansion¡¯s symbol¡­ and a pack of condoms.

    Yuan tried not to think too hard about that last one.

    His body tensed up as he removed the collar¡¯s key cable with his fingers. A slight click followed. Yuan froze in fear for a moment after half-expecting the device to blow up in his face, only to sigh in relief when it opened. S?a??h th? N0??F?re.n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Yuan had encountered a few slave collars during his years of wandering, but this model appeared more advanced than the norm. Namely, it included a locator and an emitter that could trigger the explosive with the right radio signal. The girl never had a chance to run away.

    Whoever paid for her delivery didn¡¯t want to take chances.

    At least Yuan could repurpose the explosive collar into a portable bomb and the radio into a detonator. He would always find a use for them.

    ¡°You¡¯re free,¡± Yuan informed the girl after removing her collar and stashing it in his travel bag. ¡°Do you have a name?¡±

    The girl didn¡¯t answer. She didn¡¯t even dare to look at him. She still had her tongue, so either she didn¡¯t understand the common language or she was simply too terrified to answer his questions. Yuan could hardly blame her after what she went through.

    ¡°Do you a name?¡± he asked her.

    The girl answered his query with silence. Yuan suddenly realized that he was now in the middle of nowhere with a mute child under his care and no idea what to do with her. Did she even have a family to return to?

    Yuan Guang didn¡¯t know how to talk to kids. He hadn¡¯t been one for years and he hadn¡¯t grown up into a sociable person. Yuan always found it easier to shoot people rather than charm them, so he left the talking to Mingxia.

    Yuan pondered how to earn the girl¡¯s trust. He used to be in her situation once, an orphan picked up by travelers. True, his first guardians had been a band of marauders looking for child soldiers to throw at their enemies, but they were very good at making him lower his guard. Yuan recalled very well how they first broke the ice.

    ¡°Do you want a gun?¡± he asked his new charge. ¡°It¡¯s a magic wand that spews death. Pew-pew.¡±

    Yuan presented the girl with his new .357 revolver the same way his guardians once offered him his first firearm. This time, she dared to look up at him in surprise. She appeared utterly confused by his gift and stared at him as if expecting him to change his mind. When Yuan did not, she began to examine the weapon with what could pass for childish curiosity.

    ¡°Let me show you,¡± Yuan said as he began to explain the basics of firearms. ¡°See that part? That¡¯s the hammer block. You must pull it back or else the gun won¡¯t fire at your problems. Keep it on otherwise, so you don¡¯t blow your own foot off by accident.¡±

    Revolvers, so simple even a child could use them.

    The girl followed his instructions with dutiful focus, pulling back the hammer block and then pointed the barrel at Yuan¡¯s head. Her eyes narrowed at him with wariness. She seemed distrustful of why Yuan would entrust a loaded weapon to her.

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    ¡°It¡¯s best if you target the torso,¡± Yuan advised, a finger pointed at the bullet stuck in his head. ¡°As you can see, headshots don¡¯t always stick.¡±

    The girl nodded dutifully and then pointed her weapon at Yuan¡¯s heart.

    Aw, she picked it up so quickly.

    Whatever the case, the girl appeared excited about her new revolver. Maybe she would develop a passion for firearms? Yuan¡¯s own began the moment he received his first handgun. He provided the girl with Maurice¡¯s holster to go along with the weapon, which she hesitantly accepted. She was clearly unused to kindness of any kind.

    The sight of his new charge holstering her revolver inspired Yuan.

    ¡°I¡¯m Yuan, a Gunsoul,¡± Yuan introduced himself. ¡°I¡¯ll call you Holster until you decide on a better name. A gun and holster fit together. Get it?¡±

    Yuan suddenly realized that he probably shouldn''t use this wording with a child, but the girl nodded shyly nonethless.

    She understood him.

    ¡°I¡¯ll teach you how to aim once we find more ammo,¡± Yuan said after helping the girl attach her holster to her waist. ¡°Do you have any family? A tribe? A sect maybe?¡±

    Holster shook her head. Yuan expected as much. Creating a human pillar involved some nasty rituals. Considering her age, the girl was probably born and prepared for the express purpose of being sold off as a living sacrifice.

    ¡°Stay close to me for now,¡± Yuan advised his new charge. ¡°I¡¯ll drop you off somewhere safe once we leave the Thunderlands. Try to preserve ammo if possible, but don¡¯t hesitate to shoot anyone that threatens you.¡±

    He shouldn¡¯t have too much trouble finding a guardian for the girl. Many communities welcomed any new female members that could help them grow over time. He would have to entrust her to Scraps and hide her status as a Hitobashira though.

    Yuan banished these thoughts from his mind. The question of Holster¡¯s status could wait until they left the Thunderlands in one piece.

    The girl nodded at Yuan and proceeded to follow him as he began to check over the nearby building. Maurice and Gru had already ransacked the place of anything valuable, but a few posters on the walls inside piqued his interest. Their faded ink showed trains driving into the sunset towards verdant mountains and wealthy lands. Others showed a map bound by lines connecting points together.

    ¡°Could it be¡­¡± Yuan muttered to himself. He quickly compared this map with the one he received from Kyung-sun. The two differed drastically, but a few of the landmarks matched. From what he gathered, this building used to be connected by rails to the radioactive city to the east. ¡°These must be spirit-trains migration routes.¡±

    That explained why the one that brought him to this spot stopped here. It was waiting to meet up with its kindred.

    . The old railroad traveled near Fleshmarket and continued beyond Battletown.

    However, Yuan had no guarantee that the spirit-train would wake up anytime soon. What if its kindred never showed up, or weeks later? Yuan neither had the time nor the supplies. Taming a lesser spirit-car looked like his safest bet.

    ¡°We¡¯ll search the spirit-train in case I missed anything and then move on,¡± Yuan decided. ¡°Did you hear me, Holster?¡±

    No answer. Yuan glanced around himself, only to realize that his charge was gone. A whistling sound echoed outside.

    The spirit-train.

    Yuan immediately grabbed his new shotgun in alarm. How foolish of him, he hadn¡¯t anticipated how the creature would react to a Hitobashira¡¯s presence!

    His bullet-core pounding in his head, Yuan immediately rushed outside to find Holster standing next to the machine. She looked up at the spirit-train with her big blue eyes and boundless curiosity.

    To Yuan¡¯s surprise, the spirit-train appeared to have woken up from its slumber. Faint smoke rose from its chimney and its front lights lit up on their own.

    ¡°Step away from the spirit-train, Holster,¡± Yuan ordered the girl.

    Holster looked at him with what could pass for confusion. The spirit-train blew its whistle, but it didn¡¯t try to drive away. Neither did Holster back away from it. She simply faced Yuan with a shy expression.

    ¡°Do you want to board it?¡± Yuan asked Holster. The child nodded meekly. ¡°You understand that this could be dangerous?¡±

    Holster nervously chewed her lip, but didn¡¯t step away from the vehicle. The spirit-train let out another whistling sound far louder than the last. It reeked of¡­ impatience? Yuan wasn¡¯t sure how to qualify the vague feeling coming from the steel titan.

    ¡°Is it¡­¡± Yuan squinted at Holster. ¡°Is it waiting for us?¡±

    Holster nodded shyly.

    Did she commune with the spirit-train somehow? The Hitobashira possessed a strong connection to the world¡¯s flow of qi and feng shui abilities. Perhaps commanding these creatures was one of her powers?

    Yuan decided to give her intuition a chance. It wasn¡¯t like he had a better option on his plate for now. After stashing everything he could carry into his bag, he walked closer to the spirit-train. Holster meekly followed after him, but suddenly froze in hesitation when they were about to board the vehicle. She likely never entered one in her life.

    ¡°Do you want to take my hand?¡± Yuan asked Holster before offering her his palm.

    The little girl stared at his fingers with hesitation, then gripped his palm with her tiny fingers. His touch gave her the courage to board with him.

    The spirit-train began to move the moment they stepped on it.

    Yuan summarized his situation.

    ¡°This is gonna be fine,¡± he decided.

 Chapter 12: Train Shui

    The spirit-train traveled gently along phantom tracks while Yuan cycled his qi in the front car.His core gorged itself on the power coursing through the air and empowered his body. His bullet¡¯s metal roots spread down to his shoulders and rib cage, strengthening his back. He felt the steel intertwined with his flesh. A few more sessions would complete the process until the metal nerves reached from his head down to his fingernails.

    Yuan focused his qi through his face the same way Revolver empowered his hand. He sensed the flow of his power expand from his nerves to the rest of his skull. His skin gained the texture of metal for a brief instant and then his soft skin turned into a paper-thin steel sheet. His flexible lips stretched into an iron smile.

    Powering the technique cost him a great deal of qi and focus, but Yuan tried to push the Elemental Infusion as far as he could. The steel skin spread from his head to his neck and upper back before abruptly stopping at his shoulder blades. A sharp pain strained Yuan¡¯s muscles the moment he attempted to expand the metal beyond that point. The technique swiftly canceled itself and returned his skin to normal.

    Only the parts of his body blessed by his bullet¡¯s roots could sustain the Elemental Infusion technique, so Yuan wouldn¡¯t be punching his foes with metal hands anytime soon. At least he gathered enough qi to sustain it for a few seconds. It might come in handy to protect his skull from harm, or deliver a metal headbutt if he was desperate enough.

    Meditating in the locomotive provided Yuan with more insight into the spirit-train¡¯s inner functions. He used to wonder if the beast consumed coal or gasoline to feed itself. Instead, the creature appeared to cycle qi the same way Yuan himself did: it channeled the flow of power coursing through the Thunderlands into its engine, then redistributed it across its entire length.

    Yuan wondered if it would work outside qi-rich regions. A smaller spirit-car could feed on gasoline alone, but a creature this big might require much more. Maybe that was why it needed to stop now and then? To stockpile qi in preparation for its western migration?

    Spirit-trains still made little sense to him.

    Yuan glanced to his side to find Holster also cycling her qi near him. The girl imitated his posture, her hands clenched, her eyes closed tight, her breath slow and steady. She appeared more used to the practice than Yuan himself.

    ¡°How many Coils did you complete?¡± Yuan asked her.

    Holster opened her eyes and shyly raised a single finger at him. A gesture that starkly reminded Yuan of how much he lagged behind others in the spiritual arts. A child less than half his age had crossed as many coils as he did.

    The number surprised him in another way. Holster radiated qi, far more than Yuan himself; she should have reached the Second Coil by now. Yuan focused on his charge when she did a new cycling run and quickly noticed the issue.

    The procedure that turned Holster into a human pillar had degraded her ability to strengthen her body with qi. Instead of processing the qi and redistributing it to enhance her flesh, Holster¡¯s core hungrily stockpiled the energies within itself and gave little back. Energies that would go free at the time of her death.

    This girl had literally been raised to become a qi battery.

    Yuan realized with sadness.

    Yuan wondered if there was a way to undo a Hitobashira¡¯s curse. He¡¯d never cared enough about the subject to ask himself that question before. Turning Holster back into a normal cultivator would also keep others from trying to exploit her.

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    The spirit-train¡¯s whistle echoed within the front car, startling Yuan and his charge. Holster looked up at the metal roof and then slowly rose to her feet.

    ¡°Did the train ask something of you?¡± Yuan asked.

    Holster nodded shyly and then looked at him with her hands joined. Yuan guessed that she wanted him to follow her. Though she had grown brave enough to face him, she remained afraid to grab his sleeve or make direct demands. Yuan would have to wait a while before he earned her trust.

    Yuan followed Holster to the second wagon. He wondered if she intended to explore it further. He only stuck to the first compartments so far and didn¡¯t have time to check on their contents yet. Hell, he hadn¡¯t even bothered to them.

    Holster led him into the wagon whose window he shattered after his fight with Toshiro. After studying the broken glass lying on the floor and the disorganized benches, she proceeded to pick up the shards and clean the dust off. Yuan watched her work with curiosity. Did the spirit-train ask her to clean up its insides?

    His confusion grew when Holster then touched a bench and attempted to push it sideways. A futile effort since it was nailed to the floor.

    ¡°What are you going on about?¡± Yuan asked her. Holster looked at him, shyly pointed at the benches, then awkwardly gestured at the walls.

    The seats were placed vertically to the windows, probably so passengers could look through them. From what Yuan gathered, Holster wanted to line them up along the walls. The purpose of the exercise escaped him until he focused on the flow of qi coursing through the wagon. Pulses of power coursed from the engine to the wagons in regular waves; waves that obstacles like the benches slowed down.

    ¡°You¡¯re practicing feng shui?¡± Yuan guessed.

    Holster nodded in confirmation.

    From what Yuan learned from the Stoneskin Sect, the spiritual arts focused on the three sutras, the summoning of heavenly qi; cultivation, the refinement of human qi; and feng shui, the manipulation of earthly qi and the elemental forces.

    Unlike cultivation techniques, sutras possessed an inherent power independent from their user. These scripts and formulas produced their energy from constellations and cosmic phenomena with the proper steps, to the point even Scraps could use them. The Last Rites Sutra prevented the dead from rising as hungry ghosts should the corpse be buried within an hour of death and the grave blessed with final prayers.

    Sutras had two downsides though. First of all, most of their rituals demanded specific steps and conditions to trigger; and most importantly, sects jealously guarded their scripts and mantras. Yuan doubted they would have released the Last Rites Sutra to the wider wasteland without the undead epidemic that followed the Deathsong¡¯s ascension, and he himself only learned a few during his years of wandering.

    Feng shui was even more restrictive, since it revolved around locations instead of users and formulas. Most users used to identify favorable and unfavorable lands or improve them to ensure the well-being of their inhabitants, though Yuan had heard that more complex rituals could summon cataclysms, harness elemental miracles, or allow for the creation of supernatural structures. The Stoneskin Sect used one to create a floating island for their elders.

    Yuan thought grimly. Human pillars were usually sacrificed in similar rites or to improve a site¡¯s fortune, so Holster probably possessed an intuitive understanding of feng shui¡¯s flow. S?a??h th? N?velF?re.?et website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Yuan helped Holster push the benches. Age and time spent buried under the sand had weakened the joints keeping them anchored to the floor of the wagon, allowing the two First Coils to dislodge them with ease. The duo then lined the seats up along the walls.

    Without the benches providing resistance, the power coming from the engine had an easier and quicker time traveling the wagon¡¯s length.

    Come to think of it, Yuan had heard that the earth¡¯s flow of qi traveled along paths called leylines. Maybe the spirit-train¡¯s phantom tracks harnessed power from them?

    Holster pointed at the door leading to the next wagon.

    Yuan pondered his options. Improving the spirit-train¡¯s feng shui meant qi would flow better inside it, which in turn would help him cycle faster and increase the vehicle¡¯s overall speed. Both of which would benefit them greatly.

    The spirit-train moved closer to the Thunderlands¡¯ center with each passing hour, and thus the rad-hag¡¯s lair. If she sensed Holster¡¯s presence onboard¡ªa likely prospect since she sent oni after Maurice and Gru¡ªthen they would have a fight on their hands. One that Yuan doubted they could win with their current supplies.

    ¡°Best be prepared,¡± Yuan said as he grabbed his new shotgun. ¡°Stay behind me for now, Holster.¡±

    Yuan hadn¡¯t checked the rest of the wagons yet and he had no idea of what they contained.

    They could expect .

 Chapter 13: The Treasure Car

    Of all things to run into, Yuan certainly didn¡¯t expect to find a treasure trove.The third wagon had been nearly identical to the second, a wheeled house of seats facing wraparound windows, albeit with more tables, broken lamps, and pots that were once used to house plants and crops. Ancient cultivators no doubt attempted to cultivate enchanted flowers there, though none of them survived for Yuan to harvest. He and Holster rearranged the place to improve the area¡¯s qi flow, then moved on to the next wagon.

    The fourth compartment proved the most unique so far. Rugged and spacious, with sliding doors on the side and numerous overhead racks, it lacked seats and decorations of any kind. It instead overflowed with plastic and leather chests. Yuan marveled at this unexpected discovery.

    ¡°This must be the spirit-train¡¯s treasure chamber,¡± Yuan muttered to himself as he examined the storage spaces. He opened one of the chests, its rusty metal lock crumbling before his strength, and swiftly checked its contents. To his disappointment, he only found clothes and shoes. The Thunderlands¡¯ magic and the spirit-train¡¯s decades spent buried under the sand had preserved them somewhat.

    ¡°Can you check these clothes¡¯ pockets?¡± Yuan asked Holster. ¡°Leave the chests to me. They might be trapped.¡±

    Holster obediently pocketed everything she could get her tiny hands on while Yuan lock-picked the other containers. The good news, none of them blew up in his face; the bad news, none of them contained anything immediately useful. No weapons, no food, no medical supplies¡­ He was starting to wonder if these chests contained the belongings of long dead servants.

    ¡°Found anything?¡± Yuan asked Holster. She presented him with wallets filled with rotted paper, plastic cards with words he didn¡¯t understand, and keys that didn¡¯t fit anything. ¡°Makes sense, I suppose. Cultivators wouldn¡¯t leave their stuff so easily exposed. Their own treasure chamber must be further down the spirit-train.¡±

    At least he could probably sell these clothes and miscellaneous items at Fleshmarket. Clothes were always useful and Lost Age memorabilia always found a buyer. Holster only insisted on putting the chests back into their various compartments, so Yuan guessed they couldn¡¯t do much to improve the place¡¯s feng shui flow and continued on.

    Further exploration of the wagon revealed the presence of a water tank and a boiler unit. It looked functional to Yuan and the measurement unit indicated that the reserve was full. At least he and Holster wouldn¡¯t suffer from thirst.

    Holster tensed up as they prepared to step into the fifth wagon.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Yuan asked her. Holster looked at him with frightened eyes and then took cover behind his back. Yuan didn¡¯t need a translator to understand the message.

    Checking the door to the wagon only confirmed his suspicions. He felt a strong mechanical resistance when his hand touched the handle. Only when Holster touched it did the gears in the locks begin to turn.

    The spirit-train had seen fit to lock this part of itself off. That meant that whatever it contained shouldn¡¯t leave these confines.

    Yuan stepped forward with his shotgun loaded and ready to fire. The fifth wagon appeared far more luxurious than those they had visited so far, with dark wood paneling and plush carpeting. Yuan only ever saw this kind of polished coziness in sect areas dedicated to cultivators, so he assumed this wagon catered to them. Compartments marked by numbered doors occupied most of the space.

    Holster¡¯s fearful grip on Yuan strengthened, alerting him to the danger ahead. He closed his eyes and focused on the wagon¡¯s qi. It was particularly weak here. Something in the cabins was choking the flow of energy.

    Yuan put his head to the ground. Though his ear struggled to make much sense out of the bumps of the spirit-train¡¯s wheels on the phantom rails and the ambient noise, he managed to recognize familiar, rhythmic vibration patterns coming from the cabins.

    Centidead. More than one.

    That explained why the spirit-train locked the area. The monsters must have consumed the passengers and then began to feed on the ambient qi like maggots crawling inside a great beast¡¯s stomach. Keeping them contained in that wagon prevented them from spreading and taking over the rest of the vehicle.

    Yuan counted seven cabins in total, with the last three of them double-sized. A single and narrow corridor separated their doors from the wagon¡¯s windows. Too little space to maneuver.

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    One wouldn¡¯t have been too much of an issue since the hallway provided an excellent chokehold, but Yuan was both outnumbered and low on ammo. His shotgun could only hold three munitions at once, and he likely wouldn¡¯t have time to dodge and reload.

    Yuan glanced at Holster. He did entrust a gun to her, but she trembled in fear like a leaf. Between her lack of combat training and nervousness, he doubted that she could provide him with suppressing fire.

    But Yuan could see another use for her. Mingxia never managed to aim right in her life, but she helped him in battle more than once.

    ¡°Listen to me, Holster,¡± Yuan whispered to his charge. ¡°Something very nasty lurks behind these doors, and I¡¯m not sure how many of them are hiding in the rooms. I¡¯ll need your help. Can you help me?¡±

    Holster bit her lip in nervousness, but mustered up her courage and nodded slowly.

    ¡°I¡¯m short on revolver ammo, so I¡¯ll have to rely on the shotgun. Problem is that the reloading time is atrocious and we¡¯re fighting at close-range. Once I¡¯ve shot three times, you¡¯re going to reload it for me.¡± Yuan indicated where to put the shells. ¡°I¡¯ll have to switch to the revolver while you put the ammo inside. If you¡¯re lucky, you won¡¯t have to use your own gun. Do you understand?¡±

    Holster nodded, albeit with some hesitation. Yuan briefly showed her how to insert the shells into the shotgun, handed her a handful of ammo, and then gently pushed her back. He slowly took a step until he stood in front of the first cabin¡¯s door. The noise of the spirit-train likely interfered with the centidead¡¯s ability to notice his presence, but the sound of the gunshot would alert all of them.

    Yuan gathered his breath, charged his shotgun with qi, then pulled the trigger. ¡°One.¡±

    A hail of blazing pellets erupted from the cannon and tore the cabin apart.

    The sheer power of the blowback nearly sent Yuan stumbling on his ass. The cabin¡¯s door exploded into a thousand shards of wood and iron, as did the berth, washstand, and faucet behind it.

    As for the centidead-possessed human corpse occupying the cabin, its bloodied body parts were thrown at the cabin¡¯s window with enough force to crack the glass.

    Chittering screeches resonated across the entire wagon and a few doors snapped open.

    Once a centidead larva found a fresh corpse to nest inside, they animated its flesh and then used the reactivated organs to cycle qi for itself. The parasite grew in strength and power until it could find a larger host, repeating the process until it reached its enormous adult size.

    The half a dozen monsters that emerged from the cabins had clearly stretched their current hosts to their limits. The centidead larvas¡¯ thick tangle of legs clung to ancient skeletons¡¯ bones and coiled around their spines. The loathsome bugs¡¯ mandibles chittered inside the skull¡¯s jaws like a hungry tongue. S?a??h th? N0v?lFire(.)n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Keeping the cowering Holster safe behind him, Yuan immediately took a position at the end of the hallway. The narrow space offered him a perfect line of fire as the small horde of centidead rushed at him with undying hunger.

    ¡°Two,¡± Yuan counted upon firing at them. His shotgun vomited lead and fire through the hallway, tearing apart the two nearest centidead into ghastly lumps of bone and flesh. The shrapnel shattered one of the nearby windows and scarred the hardwood walls.

    Yuan thought he had improperly used his weapon the first time, but his second shot confirmed otherwise. Charging his revolver with qi imbued his bullet with enough strength to puncture steel and blow a man in two. Charging the instead caused the shell to detonate when it erupted from the barrel. The power dispersed in a short-ranged explosion of qi and shrapnel tearing anything within its path.

    Unfortunately, this newfound power came at the cost of range. The shotgun shot pulverized everything within a three-meter radius around the barrel; nowhere near far enough to cover the entire hallway. The rest of the centidead quickly stepped over the remains of their fellow larva to get to Yuan.

    ¡°Three!¡± Yuan counted as he took a step closer, blasting them all to bits in one shot. The explosion caused the nearest window to shatter. The spirit-train let out a mighty whistle across its length, as if to complain about the damage.

    Yuan¡¯s relief lasted a mere second until the door to the next wagon opened up. A new trio of centidead emerged from it and rushed across the hallway in a frightening dash of speed.

    ¡°Reload!¡± Yuan ordered Holster as he lowered his shotgun and freed one of his hands. His charge clumsily attempted to stick her ammo into the right compartment while he grabbed his revolver. He aimed at the incoming undead and managed to shoot one through its mandible-jaw, killing it instantly. The other two tossed the headless corpse aside and ran the entire hallway¡¯s length in seconds.

    Yuan was about to waste his last revolver bullet when Holster finished reloading his shotgun in the nick of time. He swiftly shifted gears and blasted apart the last two centidead before they could close the gap between them. Their mangled flesh fell a step away from his feet.

    Yuan kept his shotgun raised at the end of the hallway and waited for another challenger to manifest. After an agonizingly long minute of silence, only interrupted by the bumps on the tracks, he allowed himself to lower his weapon. Centidead weren¡¯t too smart, and he doubted any survivor would have passed on the opportunity to seize a fresh host.

    ¡°You''ll need to be faster next time,¡± Yuan scolded Holster.

    The girl lowered her head in shame and anxiety. Yuan almost immediately regretted his words. Part of him knew few succeeded perfectly on their first try, but a few wasted seconds could mean the difference between life and death. Mingxia would have taken half the time to reload his weapon.

    ¡°I¡¯ll teach you to do it faster,¡± Yuan tried to reassure Holster. He would have to. With only one revolver bullet left and his body not yet prepared to handle the Recoil Fist, he would need to rely on the shotgun for now. The way the weapon reacted to his qi raised a few questions however.

    Could each firearm have its own unique technique?

 Chapter 14: The Base

    Ransacking the wagon proved both disappointing and somewhat profitable. The cabins mostly contained old baubles like handheld clocks and old dolls, but he also found emergency tools like resin torches, fire extinguishers, hammers, drills, hacksaws¡­ everything required to repair the spirit-train should it be damaged. None of these objects carried qi of any kind though. Yuan was starting to wonder if a cultivator ever boarded this spirit-train in the past.

    At least killing the centidead improved the vehicle¡¯s feng shui, enough that it noticeably picked up speed. Yuan had Holster gather their remains in one of the leather chests from the previous wagon. He doubted that they would be able to harvest much from the corpses, but who knew.

    Holster fulfilled the task efficiently and without complaint. It saddened Yuan a bit that his earlier remark seemed to bother her more than the duty of gathering lumps of flesh and cleaning up blood stains. That girl had been exposed to corpses enough to grow desensitized to them.

    ¡°Did you do this before?¡± Yuan couldn¡¯t help but ask. Holster¡¯s shy nod saddened him, though it didn¡¯t come off as a surprise. ¡°Whose corpses?¡±

    Holster looked down at the ground, then put a hand on her heart.

    Yuan guessed. How many tries did it take for a sect to create a human pillar? He was better off not knowing the answer to that.

    Yuan suddenly recalled one of the objects he ransacked in the cabins and went to pick it up: an old blue porcelain baby doll with yellow eyes and a cracked skull. It was in bad shape, had gathered a lot of dust, and sent Yuan an eerie vibe, but it was still functionally huggable. Yuan never found the appeal of these things, though girls seemed to love them for some obscure reason.

    ¡°Here,¡± Yuan told Holster upon offering her the doll. ¡°This is for you. A reward for your hard work.¡±

    Holster¡¯s eyes widened with excitement. She all but dropped the bag of centidead flesh to grab the doll and hug it in spite of its deteriorated state. Yuan found the sight quite endearing.

    Holster examined her new gift, then grabbed her handgun. She adopted a strange pose with her weapon in one hand and holding her doll protectively with the other. Adorable.

    ¡°Are you trying to imitate me?¡± Yuan mused. S?a?ch* Th? ?ov?l?ir?.n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    He meant it as a joke, only for the girl¡¯s reddening cheeks to confirm his suspicions. Yuan felt a strange warmth course through his body. The kind that left him both happy and stammering in embarrassment.

    ¡°Well, uh¡­¡± Yuan awkwardly shifted in place before patting the girl on the head. ¡°K-Keep doing it!¡±

    Yuan Guang had never been someone¡¯s hero before. It was a nice feeling.

    He could get used to it.

    Yuan moved to the next wagon in a much better mood than before. The universe rewarded his optimism with a good surprise for once. The next compartment was a cozy dining hall with over four dozen polished wood tables, plush seats, a kitchen, a pantry, and a wine cellar. Old crystal lamps hung from the ceiling, their lights long extinguished.

    Yuan let Holster rearrange the chairs and tables while he ransacked the place for supplies. The pantry¡¯s contents had long since rotted away to oblivion, but the wine cellar¡¯s stored bottles remained drinkable. Yuan could sell them alongside a few remaining silver utensils for a good price. The kitchen¡¯s oven and grills still worked too.

    The next and final wagon was more of the same: a well-stocked bar with a mahogany counter, dusty sofas, and wingback chairs. A library filled with rotten books stood next to framed artworks, though Yuan¡¯s gaze mostly lingered on a wide, cracked panoramic window offering an incredible view of the back of the spirit-train. Before searching the place, he took a moment to admire the beauty of the Thunderlands¡¯ colorful lightning and glittering auroras in the sky. He found nothing besides alcohol and batches of rotten cocaine hidden in the drawers.

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    ¡°Disappointing,¡± Yuan mumbled while Holster continued to rearrange the sofas so they wouldn¡¯t obstruct the train¡¯s feng shui flow. ¡°Where¡¯s the good stuff?¡±

    Part of him had hoped to find a buried treasure or an ancient qi artifact. This spirit-train was far too luxurious for Scraps, though Yuan was beginning to think that the cultivator wagons were lost to time. Or maybe it was meant to host a sect¡¯s wealthier servants and pampered slaves.

    Who cared anymore? The truth had long been lost to time.

    Yuan counted seven wagons along with the locomotive. The engine, two seated places, the treasure chamber, the bedrooms, the kitchen, and the salon. The spirit-train was spacious enough to house hundreds of passengers.

    A spirit-train would both gather more attention and carry more cargo than a smaller spirit-car. Many would pay Yuan good money to transport heavy loads across the wastes.

    Yuan brushed these thoughts off for now. He would take his revenge first and wonder about what to do next after putting a bullet through Slash¡¯s head.

    The spirit-train suddenly picked up more speed, which caused Yuan to look around. Holster had finished rearranging the tables and sofas in a way that reminded Yuan of a ¡®U¡¯ curve joining with the bar counter.

    Focusing on the flow of qi confirmed to Yuan that the air inside the wagon now carried more of it. The spirit-train¡¯s energy traveled from the engine to its wagons along a main line, curved by following the seat arrangement, and then returned back to the front. Holster had rearranged the vehicle¡¯s inner layout into one similar to a human body.

    The effects already showed. The spirit-train¡¯s pace quickened and the cracks in the panoramic window slowly disappeared. The machine slowly healed its wounds, further improving its ability to refine qi from the earth¡¯s ley lines.

    This should noticeably improve Yuan¡¯s own cycling inside its confines as well.

    ¡°Good job,¡± he congratulated Holster. The girl smiled happily at the compliment. ¡°Now go grab the rations.¡±

    It had been many days since Yuan cooked for someone.

    Yuan had to give it to Kyung-sun. The iguana meat she gave him tasted delicious when grilled.

    Yuan and Holster relocated to the last salon wagon and enjoyed their dinner there. Watching the sunset on the Thunderlands through the panoramic window would likely remain one of Yuan¡¯s favorite memories. It reminded him of the many times when he, Mingxia, and Jawlong gathered around a campfire for the evening.

    Yuan missed their conversations. He rarely spoke during lunch, but he enjoyed listening to his friends¡¯ banter. Holster couldn¡¯t replace that hole in his heart even if she tried.

    He enjoyed her light snoring nonetheless. Holster ended up falling asleep on a sofa, while Yuan cycled during the night. The spirit-train¡¯s improved feng shui had done more than increase the quantity of qi in the air; it also removed the few radioactive impurities staining the Thunderlands from it. The engine filtered the impurities like a purifier cleaning water.

    The results spoke for themselves. Yuan¡¯s body could absorb a greater quantity of qi without suffering a blowback and his core¡¯s tendrils grew a little faster than before. It reminded Yuan of a plant being fed fertilizer.

    The metal roots in his body progressed at an accelerated pace. They now reached all the way to his hands and waist.

    Yuan charged his fist with Elemental Infusion and coated his skin in iron. No surge of pain interrupted the process like last time, though he could tell that his body consumed far more qi than it should have to sustain the technique. He needed to refine all of his flesh to fully master it.

    The prospect filled him with glee. His body shuddered with excitement. Was there a greater feeling than the sensation of becoming stronger, fitter, ? Each passing minute he spent cycling qi brought him closer to the power and heights he had craved for all his life.

    A wave of unease hit the rock of his optimism.

    Yuan found himself snapped out of his meditation in an instant. He couldn¡¯t quite explain it. A sharp and terrible feeling interrupted his focus. His eyes opened to face the last wagon¡¯s panoramic window. A great sandstorm marred with multicolored lightning had arisen over the horizon, obscuring the moon and stars. Yuan sensed a great and dangerous qi imbalance surging from it; a deep and all-consuming greed tainted with hunger.

    And it didn¡¯t come alone either. The headlights of a horde¡¯s worth of spirit-cars pierced through the veil of dust and sand, some so bright that they likely belonged to monster-trucks. Yuan heard a distant noise coming from them: a furious mix of war drums and battle-guitars.

    The rad-hag was coming for them.

    Her, and her army.

 Chapter 15: Phantom Bullet

    This was bad. bad.The war party had to include at least thirty vehicles to whip up such a dust storm, maybe more, with each of them likely filled to the brim with monsters out for blood. One crew would already be a challenge if it boarded the spirit-train. Fighting so many foes at once was suicide, let alone with their rad-hag mistress leading the charge.

    ¡°Shit,¡± Yuan cursed as he quickly rose from his seat and lightly shook his charge. ¡°Holster, wake up!¡±

    Holster groaned slightly, and then her eyes snapped open in absolute terror. She sensed their pursuer¡¯s malicious presence the moment she regained consciousness.

    ¡°Can you order the spirit-train to go faster?¡± Yuan asked her. A Thunderland¡¯s caretaker couldn¡¯t leave its confines. If their vehicle managed to escape the region¡­ well, they would probably still have to contend with oni stragglers, but it would at least give them a fighting chance. ¡°Full speed!¡±

    Holster hastily joined her hands together in a pose of silent prayer, which was answered by a droning whistle which resonated along the spirit-train¡¯s entire length. Its wheels roared louder than the lightning outside as they gathered speed. They started passing landmarks in the blink of an eye, with great metal pillars rising from the sand and the ruins of ancient houses becoming furtive blurs. They passed through the Thunderlands like a lighting bolt. For a moment, it appeared as if they would outrun their pursuers.

    But it still wasn¡¯t enough.

    They distanced themselves from most of the dust storm as its spirit-cars failed to keep up with the spirit-train, but a great cloud of sand continued to gain ground. Yuan saw a strong light shining in its center like a baleful eye, though the darkness of night prevented him from seeing its source.

    Yuan gave them half an hour at best. Far too little time to escape the Thunderlands. Would decoupling the wagons let them move faster? The locomotive would have to carry much less weight, but amputating the spirit-train might cause it to bleed out. Yuan had no idea how this creature worked after all.

    A sinister noise echoed out of Yuan¡¯s bag, startling him.

    The slaver¡¯s radio.

    Taken aback, Yuan cautiously brought it out of his bag as Holster watched on with fearful eyes. The weathered communication device had turned itself on without any input, the central needle measuring signal strength wildly swaying from one side to the other. Brief jolts of multicolored electricity burst from its switches and buttons.

    A voice came out of its speakers, it was vaguely female yet scratchier than a screeching blade cutting through a metal wall.

    ¡°The child,¡± she rasped. ¡°I want¡­ the child¡­¡±

    Holster shrank in fear, her skin paler than chalk. Yuan didn¡¯t need a memo to guess who was contacting them.

    ¡°Surrender the child to me, cultivator¡­ let her blood water my land¡­¡± the voice rasped. ¡°Give her to me now¡­¡±

    Yuan¡¯s jaw clenched, then handily gripped the microphone button to answer. ¡°Or ?¡±

    ¡°Or I will come take her your life¡­¡± A haunting laugh echoed out of the radio, deep and dark. ¡°Take a closer look¡­¡±

    Yuan peeked over his shoulder just as a monstrous machine emerged from the dust storm, riding trails of lightning.

    The machine vaguely resembled a spirit-train from afar, but one made of black rubbery skin alongside its steel and iron; centidead crawled inside its flesh like maggots in a wound. A hungry maw of snarling fangs hissed at the locomotive¡¯s front under the baleful glow of a three-lobed red eye serving as its headlights. The machine held a multi-tier structure on its back that reminded Yuan of the Stoneskin Sect¡¯s pagoda, with walls of stone stuck to black veins bound by brass pipes and smoking furnaces. Oni warriors with bows, spears, and a handful of rifles stood on its roofs or behind its ornate windows. A true base on wheels.

    The monstrous spirit-train was hardly any faster than Yuan¡¯s own ride, but it managed to slowly catch up nonetheless.

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    And the oppressive qi onboard¡­ Yuan could feel it from there: a loathsome mix of a deathly stench, radioactive corruption, and fatal lightning. The rad-hag¡¯s presence wasn¡¯t as intense as Revolver¡¯s, but it was still far beyond Toshiro¡¯s or Gatesville¡¯s two-bit cultivators. The monster onboard that spirit-train was . Far stronger than Yuan himself.

    His fists clenching, Yuan glanced at Holster. Her fatalistic expression told him that she fully expected him to sacrifice her. They both knew he couldn¡¯t take this war party head-on. The rad-hag only wanted her because she was a Hitobashira whose qi she could feed upon. Their pursuers would most likely lose interest in the spirit-train should their prey be thrown off it.

    Yuan¡¯s goal was to kill Slash, not to protect slaves and strays. Rescuing Holster had been a happy coincidence that let him tame the spirit-train, but he didn¡¯t owe her anything. He had nothing to gain from protecting her, and everything to lose.

    The slavers wouldn¡¯t have hesitated.

    Yet part of Yuan simply couldn¡¯t accept that outcome. His pride wouldn¡¯t let him.

    He refused to bend the knee ever again.

    ¡°Make your attempt count,¡± Yuan answered the hag over the radio, ¡°You won¡¯t get another.¡±

    He pulled out the switch, ignoring the jolt of electricity that coursed through his finger when he disabled the radio. No way he would surrender without a fight.

    ¡°Holster, go hide at the front of the spirit-train.¡± Yuan handed her the collar bomb and its radio detonator. ¡°Put this at the junction between the locomotive and the rest of the wagons. If the oni manage to board, we¡¯ll have to decouple them by force.¡±

    The spirit-train¡¯s whistle screeched in the background, which made Yuan wonder if the creature understood his idea. Whatever the case, Holster didn¡¯t move an inch. She simply looked at him in utter disbelief.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to abandon you,¡± Yuan promised Holster. His charge kept staring at him with a blank look. Her mind struggled to understand his decision. ¡°That thing will kill and eat you Holster. You understand that?¡±

    Holster grimly nodded, but then pointed at herself with her tiny fingers and then back at him. She wanted explanations.

    ¡°I had a friend once,¡± Yuan replied. ¡°Jaw-Long was his name. He was a Scrap, and not the brightest one. A moron. He would have died a thousand times without me. A complete dumbass. One day though, when I was feeling down about failing Sect selection, he told me something both very stupid and very wise.¡±

    Yuan looked into Holster¡¯s eyes. ¡°Do you know what?¡±

    Holster scowled, then shook her head.

    ¡°True losers aren¡¯t those who ,¡± Yuan said as he grabbed his revolver, ¡°But those who don¡¯t .¡±

    How could Yuan ever hope to reach the Dao if he chickened out at the first sign of danger? He would stand his ground like he did against Slash, come what may.

    The rad-hag would never see him beg.

    His mind set on the task, Yuan opened the spirit-train panoramic windows. The hot wind of the Thunderlands blew dust in his face as he steadily aimed at the enemy¡¯s mobile fortress. He only had one shot left, so he would need to make this one count.

    Yuan told himself as he began to charge his gun with qi and pointed at the wheels.

    A tiny hand pulled him by the shirt before he could pull the trigger.

    ¡°Holster, don¡¯t throw off my aim,¡± Yuan scolded his charge. When she continued to insist and the enemy spirit-train continued to gain ground, he snapped his head in her direction. ¡°Holster¨C¡±

    He expected to see fear, and instead met eyes filled with determination.

    His speech had awakened Holster¡¯s courage. His small charge didn¡¯t try to make Yuan lower his revolver. Instead, she insistently pointed at a spot to his left. What was she trying to tell him?

    The sound of war drums grew louder. The enemy spirit-train was closing the gap between the two vehicles. Little less than a kilometer separated them now, and that distance kept shrinking.

    There was little time left, but Holster¡¯s resolve made Yuan wonder. He moved to the spot that she indicated after a moment¡¯s hesitation. She pointed her gun at the open window while crouching slightly.

    Yuan imitated her clumsy stance, aimed at the enemy¡­ and then he sensed it.

    The power flowing through him.

    The spirit-train¡¯s qi traveled clockwise along its length, spreading from the locomotive and rotating in the final wagon. By positioning him on its direct path, Yuan¡¯s charged phantom bullets would benefit from extra power. The current would carry them forward.

    A feng shui technique.

    Yuan felt like a battery juiced up to a nuclear reactor. Energy far greater than what he could ever naturally generate poured into his core and, through it, into his revolver. His gun heated up in his hands as he began to charge it with qi. He sensed his last bullet jolting in its barrel, yearning to break through. He was forced to use Elemental Infusion to turn his hands to metal in order to strengthen his grip, lest his weapon escape his fingers.

    Holster gently helped him adjust his posture to better bask in the flow of qi. It threw his aim off.

    ¡°I won¡¯t be able to hit the wheels,¡± he warned Holster.

    She simply smiled at him.

    she seemed to tell him.

    The rad-hag¡¯s spirit-train had approached close enough for her oni minions to start firing at them now. Their aim was terrible, and the night¡¯s lack of visibility caused them to miss again and again. Nonetheless, time was running short.

    Yuan entered the zone as he had done many times in the past. His entire body was one with his revolver. His arms were a barrel, his core a hammer waiting to strike. The outside world vanished from his sight. The universe stopped at the tunnel beyond his barrel¡¯s edge, the enemy vehicle no more than a fleeting frame. S?a??h th? ???el F?re.n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Yuan held his breath, exhaled softly, and then pulled the trigger.

 Chapter 16: Rad-Hag

    The bullet burst out of the barrel with a thunderous roar.So strong was the recoil that the chamber exploded between Yuan¡¯s iron hands, sending red hot shrapnel flying in multiple directions. Yuan instinctively activated Elemental Infusion in the nick of time, the projectiles bouncing off his metal chest while Holster barely managed to duck to the ground behind him. A shockwave traveled through the air and shook the entire wagon to its foundations.

    As for the bullet, it blazed across the Thunderlands like a crimson meteor. A trail of fire followed in its wake and set the night sky alight, its shine eclipsing that of the enemy spirit-train¡¯s headlamp. The oni crew hastily shouted and readied their weapons for a counterattack; one that would never come.

    The bullet hit the front of the spirit-train with immense strength.

    The headlight-eye exploded first in a shower of blood and oil. Yuan¡¯s projectile shattered the monstrous locomotive¡¯s face, its impact leaving a human-wide crater in it.

    And it .

    The enemy locomotive let out a scream of pain and agony as the bullet pierced through its diseased flesh, powered through its gears, and ravaged its engine. Although Yuan saw his projectile vanish inside its target, explosions rocking the spirit-train along its length attested to its progress. Blazing detonations blasted the oni crew to pieces. Steel walls flew like paper sheets in the wind. A few pieces of debris were propelled so far away that some of them hit the roof of Yuan¡¯s wagon with enough force to bend the metal.

    Finally, the locomotive derailed. The explosions caused it to lose balance. The machine¡¯s wheels veered off the lightning tracks and fell off to the side in a cataclysmic accident. The Thunderlands trembled under the weight of this falling giant, and a tide of sand covered the horizon in its wake.

    ¡°By the Wayfinders¡­¡± Yuan and Holster could only stare in disbelief at the devastation that he had caused. The pieces of his own revolver fell at his feet. ¡°Did I¡­ did do that?¡±

    Revolver¡¯s bullets had blasted dunes apart and continued their journey across the horizon. It said something that Yuan required an entire support infrastructure¡¯s worth of qi to match the power of his mentor¡¯s casual bullets, and yet the results left him speechless nonetheless. Yuan had expected to slow down the enemy locomotive, or at best derail it. He never thought his projectile would annihilate an entire spirit-train and the army on its back.

    he decided. It was his hand that pulled the trigger, but the spirit-train¡¯s strength was what propelled it forward. Their vehicle¡¯s whistle screeched louder than ever, as if to celebrate their victory.

    If Revolver could achieve the same devastation after pushing past the Fourth Coil of Infinity, then Yuan would learn to replicate it in time.

    Yuan allowed himself a small breath of relief. A victory was a victory. ¡°It¡¯s done, Holster,¡± he reassured his charge, though his voice failed to cut through the spirit-train¡¯s noise. ¡°It¡¯s done!¡±

    The child trembled like a leaf, her eyes turned to the ceiling as the whistle screeched in alarm louder than ever.

    Yuan froze and looked up at the ceiling. He immediately sensed a loathsome presence the moment he focused on an ambient qi, though it did its best to stay hidden; a bloated flea sucking the spirit-train dry. Heavy footsteps resonated through the metal, followed by a fetid stench of dirt and death.

    Yuan immediately reached for his shotgun, right as a centidead larva broke through the roof.

    Holster screeched in horror as the creature reached for her. It was Yuan¡¯s first time hearing her voice, squeaky, weak, and filled with fear. He would have preferred to discover it in more pleasant circumstances, but the current one sent his blood pumping. He instantly blasted the centidead larva in a single shot alongside most of the panoramic window. Only after killing it did he realize that it cost him ammo. Somehow, he couldn¡¯t care less.

    A shell spent protecting Holster was a shell well-spent.

    ¡°Go hide!¡± Yuan ordered right as two more centidead pierced through the ceiling, each roughly twice as thick as those he had previously killed on the spirit-train. He blasted them both to pieces, then quickly reloaded his shotgun. ¡°Go to the front¨C¡±

    A fourth centidead larva descended upon Yuan himself, its mandible snapping around his neck in an instant. His skin turned to metal in an instant under the effect of Elemental Infusion, sparing him a quick death by decapitation. Yet the monster refused to let go and quickly pulled him upward.

    Before Yuan knew what hit him, he was now outside the train, facing a giant while his feet dangled above the steely roof.

    The rad-hag smirked at him.

    She might have been hauntingly beautiful a long time ago, as all caretaker spirits were bound to be, but the figure standing before Yuan was a daunting sight now. Her hulking, hunchback form towered over him the same way he loomed over Holster. Her greasy skin was a sick, corpse-like shade of blue riddled with tumors and bulging black veins. Her oversized hands were coated in rusted steel, and her face and shoulders were covered under a hood under which Yuan could only see her flashing teeth. The stench of rot coming from her was almost unbearable.

    Four centidead larvae emerged from her diseased back like extensions of herself. Three had become bloody stumps thanks to Yuan¡¯s efforts, while the fourth coiled around his neck like a tentacle holding its prey.

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    ¡°You don¡¯t find me pretty, cultivator?¡± the rad-hag taunted him, her lips twisted into a ghastly sneer. Sick green smoke oozed from her mouth. ¡°I have one of you to thank for¨C¡±

    Yuan shot her in the face with a qi-charged shotgun shell mid-sentence.

    He had seen his projectiles blast open cabins and tear bodies apart in an instant, yet this shell failed to make the rad-hag flinch. The blow did blast off her hood and caused her head to snap back from the recoil. For a fleeting instant, Yuan thought he might have inflicted a fatal blow.

    Then the rad-hag slowly pulled back her head into place; revealing an eyeless, noseless mass of tumors for a face. Her mouth sported an eerily familiar and despicable grin.

    The same smug smile that Slash sported right before he executed Yuan.

    ¡°Idiot,¡± the rad-hag said.

    Then she threw him off the spirit-train.

    Her centidead tentacle violently tossed Yuan off the wagon with the same contempt given to dust being swept off one¡¯s cloth. The wind blew on his face as he found himself facing the sand-riddled ground and phantom tracks.

    Reacting quickly, Yuan coated his free hand in metal and activated the Recoil Fist. A shockwave spread from his arm and pushed him back onto the spirit-train right in front of the surprised rad-hag. He shot her in the chest before she could react, only to watch his qi-enhanced shell fail to pierce her greasy skin.

    The rad-hag¡¯s last centidead tentacle lunged at him in midair in an attempt to intercept him. Yuan reflexively shot it, his attack blasting it to pieces, and using the Recoil Fist to put some distance between his pursuer and himself. He landed a bit farther ahead on the wagon¡¯s roof.

    The rad-hag didn¡¯t appear in a hurry to chase him down. Her centidead stumps retracted inside her flesh, while her enormous hand dismissively swept the shotgun pellets off her thick skin.

    ¡°What was supposed to do?¡± the rad-hag taunted Yuan. The smugness in her tone infuriated him. She looked down on him the same way Sect Elders sneered at Scraps.

    Unfortunately, her confidence was perfectly justified. None of Yuan¡¯s attacks dented her main body yet, and the overwhelming qi emanating from her did leave him unsettled.

    Yuan observed as he reloaded his shotgun, much to his distaste.

    Yuan quickly counted what shells he had left. Having started with twelve, used four against the centidead in the cabin wagon, three to blow off her tentacles, and three in that last bout, he only had two projectiles left.

    He had to make each of them count.

    ¡°You would have been better off surrendering the child,¡± the rad-hag rasped between her grinning teeth. She lazily stepped over the holes her centidead tentacles had left in the roof and strolled toward Yuan without a care in the world. ¡°Once I¡¯ve consumed the Hitobashira, I can finally heal my lands. It¡¯s her¡­ .¡±

    , Yuan thought as he charged at her in utter silence. Words were wasted breath in battle.

    Quickly checking the flow of ambient qi, Yuan quickly positioned himself in its path. The ambient energy was nowhere near as focused as it was inside the spirit-train¡ªsince it traveled from the engine to the last wagon¡ªbut the locomotive behind him still released some in the air like steam. He charged the bullet with his qi and then steadied his aim for maximum impact.

    The rad-hag dismissively waved her hand and choked the air of life.

    The ambient qi in the air turned dry the moment Yuan pulled his shotgun¡¯s trigger. His own energy charged the shell, but the current he hoped to strengthen it with vanished in an instant. His shot was a bust, his weakened projectile failing to dent the rad-hag¡¯s skin.

    Yuan¡¯s thoughts came to an abrupt stop as he focused on the ambient qi. A bubble of nothingness surrounded him and the rad-hag, the only energy in the area being those produced by their own flesh and soul.

    ¡°Fool¡­ I this land¡­ The flow of qi answers to .¡± The rad-hag pointed at Yuan with her left index finger. ¡°Feel it for yourself.¡±

    A torrent of lightning poured out of her hand and struck Yuan in the chest.

    There were no words that could describe the pain of electricity coursing through one¡¯s body. It was as if all of Yuan¡¯s nerves were peeled back by a blade all at once. His skin was set ablaze and his blood boiled in his veins. He had to bite his tongue until it bled so as not to scream in agony. S?a?ch* Th? ?ov?l?ir?.n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Had he not been a Gunsoul with a bullet in his head for a core, the bolt would have fried his organs and killed him on the spot. Instead, it left a gaping scorched mark on his chest.

    ¡°Still alive?¡± the rad-hag cackled as she raised both of her arms to finish him off. ¡°I guess I will have to use hands then.¡±

    Yuan looked up at the golden lightning gathering in her hands; magic made thunder. The sheer amount of qi she generated filled him with dread. She was packing as much energy as the entire spirit-train. A direct hit would vaporize him the same way he had destroyed the rad-hag¡¯s own mobile fortress.

    A devious plan formed in Yuan¡¯s mind.

    Magical or otherwise, lightning remained lightning. Qi.

    Yuan activated Elemental Infusion and coated his skin from one arm to the other in metal. He purposefully avoided affecting his head where his bullet-core was located, instead forming an uninterrupted line of steel moving from his free hand and traveling through his shoulders all the way to his shotgun.

    He couldn¡¯t botch the timing on this one.

    The rad-hag arrogantly fired a thunderstorm''s worth of golden lightning at Yuan. Her mighty spell illuminated the night sky in a bright flash of light. Yet Yuan didn¡¯t recoil nor try to dodge. He quickly raised his metal-coated hand at the flow of energy.

    He caught the lightning between his fingers.

    His iron hand acted like a lightning rod and guided the current through his metal skin. So great was the output that he had to use his qi to reinforce the steel pathways coursing through his body to prevent some of the electricity from escaping them and spreading to his flesh. He had to quickly push it out of his body before the pipeline burst.

    The current heated up Yuan''s skin, but it still followed the path set for it. The enchanted electricity traveled all the way to the shotgun¡¯s qi-charged shell. The barrel shuddered under the strain of it all and threatened to explode.

    Yuan pulled the trigger and shot the rad-hag with her own power.

    She did more than flinch this time.

    The golden blast snapped the shotgun¡¯s barrel in half and tossed the rad-hag back across the wagon¡¯s entire length. Her chest¡¯s skin burned brighter than the sun, and her hideous stench was overwhelmed by the smell of cooked meat. Yuan watched her stumble back with satisfaction, though it remained short-lived. The rad-hag caught herself before she could fall off the spirit-train.

    She wasn¡¯t dead. Not yet.

    She looked much like Yuan now, with a gaping scorched wound in the middle of her chest. Her own scars went deeper than his own though. Her centidead-infested flesh lay exposed to the air alongside her ribs. Steaming glowing green blood dripped down onto the spirit-train, slightly corroding its metal.

    ¡°You dare¡­ you ?!¡± The rad-hag covered her wounded chest with her hands, her teeth clenching in fury. Gone was her previous arrogance. Only murderous anger fueled her now. ¡°I will tear you !¡±

    Yuan tossed his destroyed shotgun off the spirit-train, coated his upper body in his Elemental Infusion, and then adopted a fighting stance.

    He would punch his way to her heart if he had to.

 Chapter 17: The Bullet of Victory

    The rad-hag lunged at him with her immense hands.She showed no technique, adopted no martial stance, and didn¡¯t bother with feints of any kind. She possessed none of Toshiro¡¯s rudimentary martial arts skill nor a beast¡¯s instinctual understanding of the enemy¡¯s vitals.

    She was just and .

    The rad-hag reached Yuan in the blink of an eye, moving far quicker than anything her size had any right to. Her fists struck the spirit-train like two giant hammers, puncturing the steel roof and rupturing pipes. Her true target slipped through her fingers nonetheless.

    Men invented martial arts to compensate for their lack of strength compared to other beings; to allow the weak to defeat the mighty through pure skill. Yuan was smaller than the rad-hag, but her size was as much of a weakness as it was a strength. He moved within the space between her hands and chest, coated his fists in metal, and then punched her with all his might. A shockwave traveled through the rad-hag¡¯s exposed flesh and spilled droplets of acidic blood in all directions. Some landed on Yuan¡¯s metal skin and left it itching.

    Using Elemental Infusion weakened his Recoil Fist¡¯s backlash enough that Yuan hardly felt it in his arms. He could afford to punch her again and again, so long as he kept up enough qi to fuel his techniques. Each of his blows struck with the power of a cannonball.

    But the rad-hag¡¯s flesh and bones proved nearly as tough as her hide. A punch that would have shattered a wall hardly left a crack in her ribs. Yuan continued to hammer away at the same spot, knowing it was bound to break under the pressure eventually.

    The rad-hag attempted to envelop him in a fatal hug. Yuan nearly backflipped away, but erred on the side of caution by slipping between her legs to avoid being caught. He quickly punched her in the knee from behind in an attempt to make her stumble. Even if her skin was bulletproof, the impact should at least throw her off her feet.

    The rad-hag didn¡¯t even flinch. In fact, the sneak attack likely hurt Yuan more than her. His enemy then turned around and attempted to backhand him. Yuan quickly backflipped to dodge, only to realize his mistake when his feet landed on the whistling spirit-train¡¯s edge. S?a?ch* Th? N?v?lFir?.n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    He and the rad-hag had switched positions. Yuan was now the one with his back facing the void.

    Yuan cursed himself for his lack of foresight.

    ¡°You cultivators¡­ you¡¯re all parasites,¡± the rad-hag rasped. ¡°All you can think of is to take lives; either from the world or each other. Everywhere you go, you fill graves and call it peace.¡±

    Yuan ignored her and instead considered his options. How could he best salvage the situation? The rad-hag was far from accurate, but a direct hit might be fatal. How long could he continue striking at her chest without slipping up?

    ¡°I¡¯m like because of your kind,¡± the rad-hag said with anger. ¡°You poisoned the earth that gave me life with your sick radiation and filled my depths with maggots!¡±

    ¡°Let me kill you then, spirit,¡± Yuan replied coldly. ¡°You¡¯ll reincarnate into a better self.¡±

    ¡°Just as you accepted death, half-life?¡± The rad-hag spat glowing, green blood onto the metal roof. ¡°You smell like a corpse with gunpowder for blood. Is that flesh even ? Or are you just a deluded piece of lead browsing through a dead man¡¯s memory?¡±

    A frightening question which Yuan answered with a shrug. He wouldn¡¯t let her distract his mind during battle. He would spare time for philosophy his victory.

    If he couldn¡¯t reach the rad-hag¡¯s vitals, he would settle for pushing her overboard. Lure her to the edge, then knock her off with a well-aimed Recoil Fist strike to the back. Yuan extended his hands and challenged his enemy to come closer.

    The rad-hag answered his challenge by charging at him with a roar. She stepped over the holes in the roof, her heavy footsteps causing bolts to fly off the spirit-train. Yuan waited for her to lunge at him, then activated his Recoil Fist with both hands while punching downwards. The resulting shockwave propelled him right above the rad-hag.

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    Lightning coursed through her body in a flash of golden light.

    Yuan sensed her enormous hand close around his throat in mid-flight. The rad-hag¡¯s arm moved so fast that it became a blur and caught him instantly. She smirked at him, her teeth cackling with the sound of booming thunder.

    Swiftly realizing the danger he was in, Yuan instinctively grabbed the rad-hag¡¯s head with his left hand. A lethal pulse of qi-lightning hit his throat right after he made contact with her skull. He barely managed to redirect the current down his throat and through his shoulder before electrocuting the rad-hag with her own attack once again. The tumors growing on her skin melted between his metal fingers, as did her bones.

    When the rad-hag finally cut off the juice, half her face was gone. The left side of her skull had melted away, revealing a squirming mass of crawling, finger-long centidead maggots where her brain should have been.

    ¡°That¡­¡± the rad-hag¡¯s smirk twisted into a furious scowl. ¡°Was

    She slammed Yuan against the spirit-train¡¯s roof, face-first.

    He would have been torn apart by the impact if he hadn¡¯t had Elemental Infusion coating his head and torso in steel. It still hurt like hell though. His vision went white for a second, but the pain had only begun.

    The rad-hag ran across the entire length of the wagon while keeping his face pressed against the floor. Yuan¡¯s skin sang and screeched as it kissed the metal. The friction peeled some of it away in atrocious flashes of pain. He punched the rad-hag¡¯s exposed flesh with his Recoil Fist again and again in an attempt to free himself. Hammering her weak points did nothing. She only tightened her grip on him.

    The rad-hag reached the end of the wagon and then leaped upon reaching its edge. She fell onto the next and slammed Yuan onto the roof with all of her weight behind her. His vision went white as he and his foe crashed through the metal in a cataclysmic crash. A terrible crack echoed from his right shoulder and arm, followed by a flash of pain and sudden numbness. The bullet-tendrils inside those limbs went dark like cables decoupled from a power grid.

    Their course ended on top of the dining wagon¡¯s kitchen counter, where Yuan¡¯s steel back sank midway through. A terrible wave of sickness overwhelmed him. He spat blood, his blurry eyes catching sight of the rad-hag¡¯s shadow looming over him. When he recovered enough to make sense of her outline, he saw her raise her fist above his head, lightning crackling between her fingers. He tried to break free in panic, only for the rad-hag¡¯s other hand to keep him firmly in place.

    Yuan realized, his bullet-core pounding hard in his head.

    Gunshots suddenly echoed through the wagon, and a bullet bounced off the rad-hag¡¯s shoulder. The monstrous spirit¡¯s head snapped up at the source of the attack.

    Holster.

    She trembled like a leaf at the end of the wagon, her feeble hands hardly able to steadily hold the handgun that Yuan gave her. Her eyes were wide open with fear as she frantically pulled the trigger. She was a shit shot and quickly ran out of bullets, but the rad-hag forgot Yuan¡¯s existence for a split second.

    Quickly seizing his chance, Yuan slammed his left hand against the monster¡¯s chest. With few other choices left, he desperately poured all the qi he could gather into his Recoil Fist; far more than what his flesh could handle. His carpal bones cracked under the pressure, as did the rad-hag¡¯s ribs. The blow sent her flying across the dining wagon until she hit the opposing wall in a loud crash.

    Yuan forced himself back to his feet, struggling with the pain and blood pouring out of his mouth. Holster rushed over to help him.

    ¡°Holster, the gun,¡± Yuan rasped. ¡°Give me the¨C¡±

    A sharp surge of pain silenced him, and a good look at his body made him realize the severity of their situation. His right arm had gone limp and was bent in a sickening way. His left hand hardly looked any better. His last-ditch attack had broken it, to the point he couldn¡¯t bend his fingers anymore.

    And worst of all, the rad-hag was still alive. Yuan¡¯s blow had left her groggy and shattered her ribs, but her thick flesh preserved her inner organs. She slowly regained her footing with a hateful grunt.

    This was bad. bad.

    Yuan frantically searched for a solution. The rad-hag might control the Thunderlands¡¯ qi, but the spirit-train was king inside its confines. Its energy continued to flow in the feng shui pattern that Holster devised, possibly enough to damage the rad-hag. A strike through her skinless chest would finish her off.

    But Holster couldn¡¯t charge bullets with qi, even if her handgun had any left. And how was Yuan supposed to use it without working hands? With his teeth? Unless he charged his bullet-core, what else did¨C

    Yuan felt as if he had been struck by lightning again.

    he realized.

    The rad-hag finally got back to her feet with a snarl of rage. She dashed at them at full speed while tossing dining tables and chairs out of her way.

    ¡°Run, Holster!¡± Yuan ordered his charge. Holster hastily ducked behind the kitchen counter while he quickly positioned himself in the spirit-train¡¯s qi path. He quickly pivoted into the best angle he could manage in the split second he had left.

    The rad-hag lunged at him to deliver the .

    Coating his head and torso in metal, Yuan poured all of his qi into his legs and activated his Recoil technique. His tendrils hadn¡¯t yet reached the lower part of his body, so the flow of energy ruptured his muscles on its way to the heels. A shockwave erupted out of his feet, tearing off his skin.

    Yuan flew.

    His body surged with qi as the spirit-train¡¯s flow of feng shui carried him forward. His bullet-core pounded in his skull with the noise of a gunshot. Yuan roared as he hit his foe at full velocity.

    His metal skull punched through the rad-hag¡¯s chest and came out on the other side.

 Chapter 18: The Second Coil

    Yuan received a crash course in rad-hag anatomy in one visceral impact.His qi-coated body punched through his enemy¡¯s maggot-riddled flesh, shattered her ribs, and blasted apart her inner muscles. He smashed his way through her diseased black heart and broke past the coiling centidead larvae making up her spine, before erupting from her back in a shower of glowing green blood. He felt the substance burn his metal skin and eat away at his clothes as he finally came to hit the floor, his hands numb and his heels flashing with pain.

    Yuan barely had enough left to peek over his shoulder.

    The rad-hag stood in place with a gaping, bleeding hole in her chest; one so big that he could see the kitchen counter on the other side. Finger-long centidead maggots slipped out of it and onto the floor only to die without their host. A putrid purple miasma smelling of rot and diseased meat steamed from her wound.

    No living creature could have survived such injury, but the rad-hag still stood on her own two feet. She slowly turned her head over her shoulder to look in Yuan¡¯s direction; though she had no eyes to glare at him with, he could sense all of her disbelief and fury.

    Only then did she finally collapse. Her immense body fell onto her back not far from Yuan himself, her hand reaching for him with fizzling lightning but lacking the strength to succeed. All she could do was to rasp in agony.

    Yuan groaned as he forced himself to crawl back on his knees and elbow. The stains of rad-hag blood burned his skin the moment he ran out of qi to fuel his Elemental Infusion. Although he was no stranger to pain and bruises, he found himself discovering new ones in places he never suspected.

    Once she was certain that the battle was truly over, Holster emerged from her hiding spot with the first aid kit they looted from Maurice. She fearfully stayed out of the dying rad-hag¡¯s reach and moved to help Yuan sit on a dining chair.

    ¡°I can wait¡­¡± Yuan grumbled through his clenched teeth. Revolver informed him that he would recover from most wounds so long as his bullet-core remained intact, and they had a more pressing problem. ¡°The rad-hag¡­ do you know how to purify her?¡±

    Holster glanced at the agonizing rad-hag with fear and revulsion, but she nodded nonetheless.

    ¡°Do it now then,¡± Yuan ordered Holster. ¡°I don¡¯t know if she can heal from this¡­ but we can¡¯t take the risk.¡±

    He was in no shape to continue fighting if the rad-hag somehow managed to recover. He doubted that his trick would work twice too. They¡¯d best send her to the Nowhere while they still could.

    Holster stared at the ground and avoided Yuan¡¯s gaze. Clearly, she didn¡¯t wish to touch the monster who tried to devour her, even if she was on the brink of death.

    ¡°Be strong,¡± Yuan reassured her. ¡°I know you can do it.¡±

    Holster gulped, but found her courage nonetheless. She slowly walked towards the rad-hag, whose feeble hand attempted to reach for her. Holster scowled and skirted around her grasp, before sitting behind the monster¡¯s head. She looked down at the rad-hag with disgust while searching for a part of the skull untouched by her acrid blood and the dying insects crawling in her flesh.

    ¡°Don¡¯t touch the small centidead,¡± Yuan warned her. Their maggots needed a corpse to grow into larvae and couldn¡¯t survive long when exposed to the outside world, but they always tried to burrow their way into a living host when sufficiently desperate. ¡°Burn them with ethanol if you must.¡±

    Holster nodded, then grabbed the rad-hag¡¯s skull in opposite spots. Yuan immediately sensed the flow of qi around them shift. Bursts of electricity jolted from the monster¡¯s hands and feet before flowing into the spirit-train.

    Yuan didn¡¯t quite understand what was happening, but it frightened the rad-hag. Her fingers convulsed slightly, and the maggots infesting her burrowed deeper inside her corpse as if to hide from the incoming danger.

    ¡°Don¡¯t¡­¡± the rad-hag rasped, her voice brimming with panic. ¡°Please don¡¯t¡­ If I reincarnate, all of my knowledge¡­ all of what makes me, ¡­ will disappear¡­¡±

    She looked so pathetic like this, feebly begging a child to spare her miserable life. Yuan would almost feel a measure of pity for her if she hadn¡¯t threatened to kill him and eat Holster.

    ¡°Don¡¯t care,¡± Yuan replied bluntly. ¡°You should have thought of that you attacked us.¡±

    She had played the game and she lost. The end. A new spirit wouldn¡¯t immediately heal the Thunderlands from its radiation and centidead infection, but it would be a start.

    The rad-hag growled and rattled as lightning leaked from her hands. Her already pitiful resistance weakened quickly until her limbs stopped moving. Yuan focused on her qi until he understood Holster¡¯s method of purification.

    A land¡¯s caretaker spirit embodied its territory. It was a mask that the region wore to interact with the outside world; a finely carved qi vessel which Holster now unraveled. She slowly guided the rad-hag¡¯s untainted energies into the spirit-train¡¯s circulatory system while isolating the rot in her heart.

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    And the results showed. The rad-hag¡¯s massive body slowly shrank into a normal human¡¯s size and her disfigured face briefly rearranged itself into a beautiful lady¡¯s visage; the one she used to have before radiation poisoned the Thunderlands. She shed the centidead maggots like a snake shed its skin, the unnatural animals writhing and dying without their host. Her tumors and the corroded parts of her spirit filled the hole in her chest in a vain attempt to heal and survive.

    ¡°No¡­¡± the rad-hag rattled in agony, so meekly that Yuan could hardly hear her. ¡°I refuse¡­ argh¡­¡±

    Her efforts to endure were for naught. The rad-hag¡¯s body soon turned to dust and her qi returned back to the Dao. Only a table-sized, shapeless mass of pallid white flesh, tumors, and corrupted qi remained behind. Yuan noticed dripping, half-formed faces wriggling under its fatty surface.

    This thing was the Thunderlands¡¯ corruption made manifest.

    ¡°Did¡­¡± Yuan¡¯s stomach lurched when he stared at the mass of flesh. ¡°Did it work?¡± S?a??h the N?v?l(F)ire.n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Holster nodded slowly, though she let out a startled cry as the giant tumor moved an inch toward her. Even in its pathetic, nearly harmless state, it still sought to spread.

    This thing did not belong in this world.

    ¡°I guess it¡¯s time I teach you how to make cocktails.¡± Yuan glanced at the kitchen¡¯s cellar. ¡°Go grab a bottle of alcohol and a piece of paper.¡±

    The corrupted mass burned for hours, and no monster bothered them again.

    The sun shone brightly on the Thunderlands by the time the spirit-train reached its borders.

    Yuan spent the journey cycling his qi and tending to his own wounds. The healing process let him understand why Revolver believed he could recover from nearly anything. His bullet-core¡¯s tendrils put his bones back in place, stitched his skin back together, and replaced missing flesh with metal.

    He had heard Stoneskin Sect Elders comparing their craft to agriculture once. The body was a field of potted soil that demanded constant watering to nurture and strengthen the seed of the soul.

    Yuan might have taken the metaphor a bit farther than most cultivators intended.

    His bullet-core¡¯s roots had spread much farther thanks to the spirit-train¡¯s qi acting as fertilizer. The rad-hag¡¯s death appeared to have strengthened it somehow. The very air flowing through the wagons now carried a faint undercurrent of electricity; one that Yuan happily gorged himself on. His metal tendrils now reached all the way to his feet and filled every corner of his body.

    Yuan gathered his breath, closed his eyes, and triggered Elemental Infusion.

    His technique spread from his bullet-core and traveled down his spine. A wave of lead flowed through his veins. His bones turned into the hardest of steel. His blood smelled of oil and his lungs breathed gunpowder. His tongue slickened between bullet shell-teeth. The power of qi reforged his skin in metal.

    His previous uses of Elemental Infusion had been limited to his chest and arms, but his body could now sustain the technique¡¯s full power. He became a moving, breathing weapon; the incarnation of the metal element.

    Then came the illumination.

    A pulse of qi suddenly erupted from his core and coursed through him like a gunshot. His consciousness expanded beyond the reaches of his skull. Yuan suddenly became ; aware of himself, of the train, of the Thunderlands, of the .

    He suddenly realized how both small and great he truly was; a tiny piece of ammo that fit in a vast and intricate mechanism called the universe. He finally saw what Holster¡¯s feng shui exercises all led to: that everything, from chairs to people to the dust on the ground, were all parts of a greater harmonious puzzle. An eternal cosmic current that included all that was, all that is, and that would ever be.

    The Dao.

    Yuan could only caress it for a moment before his consciousness shrank back into his body. His mind was clear and filled with a profound sensation of blissful and unshakable harmony. His lips curved into a smile of absolute satisfaction.

    Yuan Guang had crossed into the Second Coil of Infinity.

    He immediately noticed the effects. His Elemental Infusion no longer strained his body, and his mind perceived the nuances of qi around him with better accuracy. He no longer needed to focus to detect its fluctuations; he did so instinctively.

    Hence why he immediately detected .

    Yuan¡¯s eyes snapped open in alarm as he sensed an anomaly in the spirit-train¡¯s flow of qi. A¡­ presence? A will that permeated the vehicle¡¯s wagons yet felt slightly separated from it. It reminded Yuan of the rad-hag¡¯s aura, yet without the foulness and malice.

    Holster, who had been cleaning the wagon¡¯s floor with a broom that she found in the kitchen, looked up at Yuan in confusion.

    ¡°Do you sense that?¡± Yuan asked his charge, who nodded in assent. ¡°An enemy?¡±

    Holster shook her head with a small smile. She pointed at the roof, whose holes had closed on their own at this point. Their vehicle had healed its wounds in record time after feeding off the rad-hag¡¯s power, but Yuan didn¡¯t see how it answered his question.

    He was about to ask for clarification when the spirit-train¡¯s whistle echoed across the wagon. Only then did he figure it out.

    ¡°Ah, I get it,¡± Yuan muttered to himself. His senses had grown sharp enough that he could sense the spirit-train¡¯s will. That must have been why Holster could communicate with it before. ¡°I wonder if I¡¯ll be able to understand you soon.¡±

    An electrical jolt traveled through the train¡¯s feng shui circuit in response. Yuan could have sworn he detected a hint of happiness and eagerness in it.

    He might just grow attached to this vehicle with time.

    ¡°Did you finish cleaning?¡± he asked Holster. His charge nodded shyly. ¡°Good girl.¡±

    Holster¡¯s bright smile felt more warming than the sun.

    Yuan took her to the last wagon to witness their departure from the Thunderlands. The repaired panoramic window offered them a beautiful view of the region. Its golden auroras had lost some of their luster after the rad-hag¡¯s death and the multicolored lightning fell less often. Nonetheless, the hostile aura permeating the area was gone.

    The region would generate a new caretaker spirit soon enough. Yuan hoped that one would have better luck purging the area¡¯s infection than its predecessor.

    He didn¡¯t regret traveling through this region. Though the learning curve had proved rough, the journey had strengthened him greatly and swiftly. He understood his power and purpose better, saved an innocent¡¯s life, and gained a sweet ride out of it too.

    More importantly, Yuan had won battles with his own strength. He had defeated a cultivator and overcome a powerful spirit that would have crushed the old him. Now he knew that he would kill Slash once he found the bastard.

    It was an inevitability.

    Yuan sensed the spirit-train crossing the Thunderlands¡¯ veil in an instant. He felt like a man suddenly emerging from a pool of water, the qi-rich air of the region replaced with a dry and essence-starved wind. The auroras, the lightning, and the fantastical landmarks vanished all at once though the spirit-train continued to generate phantom tracks across a desolate wasteland of red dust.

    They had left the Thunderlands.

    Onwards to Fleshmarket.

 Chapter 19: Miss Orient Express

    A sweet smell woke Yuan up.He had dreamed of guns, smoke, and blazing ammo since they had left the Thunderlands. His bullet-core pumped his brain with visions of firearms and desolation, of duels between faceless shadows and gunpowder songs. His soul yearned for battle, and so did his body.

    His metal veins hungered for qi. The air inside the spirit-train felt so dry to cycle through after the Thunderlands¡¯ supernaturally rich atmosphere. He was a thirsty man who had jumped out of a lake and into a pond.

    . Yuan slowly opened his eyes as the sun shone through the panoramic window.

    Reaching the Third Coil required the consumption of a pill harvested from a distilled spirit-fruit. Ingesting this concentrated source of qi allowed Scraps to form a core, but harmed cultivators without a strong enough constitution. The entire cycling process leading to the Second Coil allowed them to reinforce their flesh enough to sustain the sudden power influx.

    The hard part was finding an untainted pill.

    Not only were these medicines difficult to prepare, but the slightest exposure to radiation or demonic influence could corrupt it. Consuming a tainted pill might result in death or worse. Most of the wasteland¡¯s mutants could trace their origins back to some fool who ate one from the wrong batch. The good stuff¡¯s rarity meant that charlatans flooded the market with fake ones, making powerful sects the only safe sources to find one; and they gave them away without strings attached.

    An alternative option would be to slay a powerful spirit-beast and consume their core, but they would need to be beyond the Third Coil and unmutated. A rare and difficult catch.

    Would he even need a pill or the equivalent? Gunsouls didn¡¯t play by normal cultivation rules, after all. Reaching the Third Coil might require other steps for his kind.

    Yuan banished these thoughts from his mind for the moment, since he had more pressing concerns. A dead white sea of calcified flowers stretching as far as his eye could see beyond the window, infesting milky white lakes and blooming on rusting Lost Age ruins. Yuan heard that these flowers used to be one of the Fleshmancer¡¯s oldest¡ªand least effective¡ªattempts at creating new flora that could thrive in the wasteland. Their seeds contaminated water sources, with the only cure being boiling temperatures. He and Holster would have to be careful when buying local supplies.

    Yuan arose from the sofa to find Holster missing.

    The thought sent a chill down his spine the moment it crossed his mind. Something wasn¡¯t right. Holster hadn¡¯t shown any aptitude for cuisine. had been the one to cook their rations so far.

    And that female presence nearby¡­ Yuan scowled upon detecting it. He had already picked up on it yesterday in the spirit-train¡¯s air, but it had grown stronger since. . Although he sensed no hostility from it, Yuan wasn¡¯t one to take chances.

    ¡°Holster?¡± He called out to his charge, only to realize that she was missing from the panoramic wagon. Fearing the worst, he immediately rushed into the dining cabin. ¡°Holster!¡±

    He found her eating a meal that he did not recognize in the company of an unknown woman.

    Yuan immediately adopted a fighting stance, his fleshy hands tightening into iron fists. The only thing that prevented him from overwhelming her in a burst of speed was the short distance separating her from Holster. She was sitting right next to his charge, who ate her food completely heedless of the danger right next to her.

    The mystery woman greeted him with an eerily kind smile and melodious words spoken with an accent he did not recognize.

    ¡°Greetings, Honored Master Yuan,¡± she said with a formal bow. If she felt threatened by his presence, she showed no hint of it. ¡°I hope you¡¯ve rested well.¡±

    ¡°Well enough to blow off your head if you don¡¯t step away from my proteg¨¦e right ,¡± Yuan warned her. He leaned forward a bit and prepared to leap at her. ¡°I don¡¯t know how you sneaked onto this spirit-train, stranger, but you¡¯ve picked the wrong target!¡±

    ¡°Sneak in?¡± The woman answered his words with a smile filled with confusion. ¡°Honored Master Yuan, I¡¯ve been here from the start.¡±

    Her answer, and the way Holster briefly looked up from her plate to stare at Yuan in confusion, made him wonder if he hadn¡¯t misunderstood the situation. His charge showed no fear even now.

    Yuan studied the woman more closely. She looked around his age, with a slim, slender figure and auburn hair bound in a bun. Her eyes were a pale shade of gold, the kind of which he had never seen before. She dressed elegantly in some type of red uniform that included a black cap showcasing words written in a language he didn¡¯t understand.

    Yuan detected a familiar resemblance to Holster in the woman¡¯s face, like an older sister or mother. She was beautiful, with fair and unblemished skin. That part bothered Yuan. He had never seen a woman without some dirt on her; even cultivator beauties boasted scars or sweat from training. Even the most talented of thieves would have accrued some dust boarding a spirit-train in motion.

    This woman was a supernatural entity of some kind. She a qi that felt both unknown and yet somewhat familiar¡­

    Yuan¡¯s eyes widened in recognition. ¡°You¡¯re the rad-hag?¡±

    ¡°Not anymore, Honored Master Yuan,¡± she replied with a slight frown, as if he was somehow the one who didn¡¯t make any sense. ¡°Not entirely. Don¡¯t you recognize my aura?¡±

    No, he didn¡¯t. Her qi appeared hardly distinguishable from the spirit-train¡¯s¨C

    Wait. She was there from the start?

    ¡°It can¡¯t be,¡± Yuan muttered as he lowered his fists in recognition. ¡°You are the spirit-train itself?¡±

    ¡°You could say that, Honored Master Yuan,¡± the woman confirmed with a sharp nod. ¡°I am its caretaker spirit.¡±

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°That¡¯s impossible. Only Thunderlands can generate enough qi to manifest a caretaker.¡±

    ¡°And yet, here I am. I have a theory, but we can discuss it while seated.¡± The woman invited him to join them at the table and waved a bottle full of strange darkish liquid at him. ¡°Would you like some tea with your breakfast, or a bottle of oil? Though I find the latter tastier, my previous passengers seemed fonder of the former.¡±

    ¡°Tea?¡± Yuan narrowed his eyes on the drink as he sat at the table. Now that he looked more closely, it did remind him of the jasmine blend he often served to the Stoneskin Sect Elders. ¡°I didn¡¯t find any tea onboard.¡±

    ¡°You did find leaves, Honored Master Yuan,¡± said the spirit. ¡°Time simply rotted them away. I managed to restore them by using the same magic that lets me repair my body when damaged, alongside today¡¯s meal. May I suggest fried eggs and bacon to go along with it for a full English breakfast?¡±

    Yuan had no idea what bacon was, let alone the word ¡®English,¡¯ though both sounded edible enough. As for eggs, the few he¡¯d ever tasted didn¡¯t look half as yellow as the ones in front of him. He hesitated to take a bite until he watched Holster finish her own meal with a ravenous appetite. Yuan reluctantly grabbed a silver fork¡ªfeeling awkward as he did so¡ªand then picked up the ¡®bacon.¡¯ s?a??h th? N0v?lFire(.)n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    One bite later, he found that he couldn¡¯t stop eating.

    ¡°Do you like your food, Honored Master Yuan?¡± the woman asked.

    ¡°Uh?¡± Yuan had his mouth too full to answer. By the Wayfinders, he had never eaten anything with such a soft, tasty texture! ¡°Uhm!¡±

    Thankfully, the caretaker took his bestial answer in stride and swiftly proposed more meals. ¡°May I suggest bolts to go along with the meat? The battle with our unwelcome guest must have surely damaged your internal workings.¡±

    ¡°Uh, sure?¡± Yuan replied, only to find himself staring at a plate filled with metal parts. He thought bolts might have been a nickname for some kind of fruit, but the spirit served him engine parts instead. ¡°I, uh, I don¡¯t eat those.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± The caretaker spirit¡¯s smile immediately faded away. ¡°Oh, I am so sorry, Honored Master Yuan. I thought that since you had metal for veins like I do¨C¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Yuan replied. He figured he shouldn¡¯t ask a spirit-train to immediately figure out the inner workings of human anatomy. ¡°The rest is good.¡±

    ¡°I feel so relieved by your appetite then,¡± the spirit declared upon swiftly removing the bolt-filled plate. A trapdoor opened in the nearest wall and she swiftly threw the ¡®food¡¯ down a shaft. ¡°I wanted to thank you and Miss Holster personally for repairing me, but my understanding of human culinary tastes is purely academic for now. I slumbered underground for God knows how long.¡±

    ¡°God?¡± Was she speaking of a Wayfinder? Yuan managed to stop crunching his food just long enough to ask her for details. ¡°Which one?¡±

    ¡°I cannot say,¡± the woman replied with slight embarrassment. ¡°I only have vague memories from my existence as a train, but I recall that my human passengers used that expression now and then.¡±

    She spoke so formally that Yuan wondered if she picked up her mannerisms from some old book. He swiftly set his now empty plate aside, much to Holster¡¯s delight. Was that how cultivators ate all day at the Stoneskin Sect? Why did they always complain then?

    Those people never appreciated their privileges.

    ¡°If you are this spirit-train¡¯s caretaker spirit, then are you its will incarnate?¡± Yuan asked, with the woman nodding in confirmation. ¡°How did you manifest?¡±

    ¡°I suspect I owe you my new life.¡± The woman glanced at an empty spot near their table. Yuan recognized it as the place where he and Holster had killed the rad-hag. ¡°When at death¡¯s door, our unwelcome passenger attempted to possess my metal frame in a last-ditch attempt to survive. Though she failed, she infused me with enough of her spirit that I managed to coalesce. I created this avatar based on the memory of my previous crew, so I hope it feels at least comfortable for passengers such as yourself and Miss Holster.¡±

    Yuan didn¡¯t know enough about spirits to tell whether or not this was a normal occurrence. He assumed it was a good sign though. The spirit-train appeared well-disposed towards Holster and him, and uncorrupted caretakers always took care of their dominion¡¯s inhabitants. If she was anywhere near as powerful as the rad-hag was, then she could help defend the train from invaders.

    A detail did bother Yuan though. ¡°Why do you look like Holster?¡±

    ¡°I can take any shape you wish, Master Yuan.¡± The woman blinked a few times, too abruptly for it to be natural. It looked as if she had suddenly remembered that humans ought to do that in public. ¡°I assumed this one because I thought you and Miss Holster would be more predisposed towards a familiar face. Was I wrong to assume as much?¡±

    Yuan shrugged his shoulders. He cared less about her appearance than her character and power. ¡°Look however you want,¡± he replied. ¡°As for Holster, she clearly trusts you already. That¡¯s enough for me.¡±

    Holster nodded vehemently, much to the woman¡¯s happiness. ¡°Thank you kindly. I will do my best to ensure that you have a pleasant stay onboard.¡±

    ¡°What am I supposed to call you though?¡± Yuan asked. Though he knew that spirits put great importance on names and titles, since it represented their power, it felt odd to travel with someone without at least a nickname.

    ¡°My name is written on my side,¡± the woman replied proudly. ¡°Orient Junction TR-61. But you may call me Orient for short, Master Yuan.¡±

    Yuan would have expected something more awe-inspiring, like or . He wisely kept that thought to himself though.

    ¡°I am master of nothing, Orient,¡± Yuan insisted. Master was a title reserved for sect disciples, and he belonged to none. ¡°Just call me Yuan, if you must.¡±

    ¡°As you wish, Honored Passenger Yuan,¡± Orient replied mirthfully. Somehow that sounded even worse. ¡°Based on your map, I am happy to announce that we will soon reach our destination of Fleshmarket within an hour¡¯s time.¡±

    This news both excited and worried Yuan in equal measure. On one hand, he should be able to gather information on Slash¡¯s band in Fleshmarket, since they likely stopped there; and he might be able to negotiate getting a pure pill from the local sects. On the other hand, Fleshmarket was also a slavers¡¯ den under the Yinyang Khan¡¯s influence. The spirit-train¡¯s approach would bring undue attention, not to mention Holster. A Hitobashira like her made for a tempting target.

    ¡°I¡¯ll need to settle a few affairs in town,¡± Yuan said before patting Holster on the head. ¡°Can you take care of her in my absence? People will come after her the moment she steps off this spirit-train, so she¡¯ll need to remain onboard and hidden for her own safety.¡±

    While Holster shrank in her seat in worry, Orient¡¯s smile didn¡¯t waver in the slightest. ¡°Believe me, Master Yuan, unwelcome guests will not find Miss Holster onboard¡­ nor a safe way out of my wagons, for that matter. I control this train¡¯s layout and while I am not as powerful as a Thunderlands¡¯ caretaker, I can handle myself.¡±

    Her firm tone surprised Yuan. He hadn¡¯t expected a spirit-train to feel so protective of its¨Cher?¨Cpassengers.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be the judge of that, if you don¡¯t mind a short spar,¡± he said. It would be a good occasion to test how crossing the Second Coil had improved his body too. ¡°What do you plan to do after we reach Fleshmarket though? You don¡¯t owe us anything.¡±

    ¡°On the contrary, Honored Passenger Yuan, I owe you and Miss Holster my life and for my many repairs,¡± Orient replied with refined poise. ¡°Moreover, my only duty is to bring proper passengers where they wish to go while ensuring that they have the most pleasant and safest of stays. This directive is inscribed into my very frame.¡±

    Ah, that made sense. Spirits didn¡¯t quite think like humans. They each had a role or purpose, from caring for a piece of land to answering certain prayers, that drove all of their actions. Yuan considered himself lucky that he and Holster earned their places onboard.

    ¡°So you will bring us to any destination we wish?¡± Yuan asked.

    Orient confirmed it with a nod. ¡°Though I must remain bound to the earth¡¯s leylines to travel, I will be more than happy to carry you and anyone else you wish to bring onboard anywhere you want until you no longer require my services.¡±

    It was rare to find gratitude in the wasteland, and Yuan was all the more appreciative for it. He nodded sharply at Orient and promised himself not to let her kindness go unrewarded.

    Her proposal opened up many possibilities to him. He had been considering restarting his activities as a courier, and sects would pay a great deal of money to transport supplies and passengers on a spirit-train across the wasteland.

    He might be able to negotiate a pill¡¯s purchase.

 Chapter 20: Fleshmarket

    After a short bout with Orient in the panoramic car, Yuan gave her the same assessment as the rad-hag before her: .Orient showed little to no combat instincts nor self-preservation when it came to protecting her body. She didn¡¯t even bother moving from her spot unless he closed in on her. She didn¡¯t need to.

    The moment Holster sounded the start of the spar with a clap, the train came alive to defend Orient.

    Tables and chairs fell into Yuan¡¯s path when he ran at her, alongside shelves and carpets. Pipes burst out of the floor in the form of coiled metal tentacles with the strength to shatter stone. A cloud of steam erupted from nowhere to blind him with searing heat. It was quite overwhelming at first.

    Nonetheless, Yuan retained the edge in fighting experience and instinct. Crossing the Second Coil had also reinforced his body in great and small ways. He could keep on using Elemental Infusion at will now, and his legs had grown strong enough to let him jump across a room in a single bound. He quickly closed the gap with Orient in seconds, jumping through the smoke and swiftly repelling metal tentacles with punches of his own.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got you,¡± he said as his hand reached for Orient¡¯s face.

    Orient smiled at him. ¡°Do you, Honored Passenger?¡±

    She melded into the metal floor before Yuan could blink and swiftly reappeared two meters behind him. He briefly caught a glimpse of the process through the spirit-train¡¯s qi; Orient simply returned to being primal energies, flowed through the pipes, and then reformed nearby instantaneously.

    Yuan quickly realized his mistake. He wasn¡¯t fighting a , but a . A sentient location whose human avatar was no more essential than a piece of gear.

    He had been lucky that the rad-hag¡¯s greed led her to fight him inside the spirit-train. Their duel might have had a very different outcome had he confronted her on her land.

    ¡°You should try to control your opponent¡¯s center of mass,¡± Yuan warned her. ¡°Control the central line. The more you control a fight¡¯s pace, the better your chances of survival.¡±

    ¡°Duly noted, Honored Passenger Yuan,¡± Orient replied with a short bow. ¡°I confess that fighting is a new experience for me. I would appreciate lessons.¡±

    Holster raised a hand, which Yuan took as an indication that she wished to learn the basics too. Yuan couldn¡¯t blame her after her experience with the rad-hag, though her age and Hitobarashi constitution would likely limit her growth.

    ¡°Sure,¡± Yuan replied. He¡¯d often assisted young Stoneskin Sect disciples with their hand-to-hand training, so he had some basic experience with teaching.

    ¡°As a caretaker spirit made of qi, I am more suited to using sutras and feng shui than techniques,¡± Orient informed him. ¡°You are, after all, inside my body. This human avatar is a mere part of me, no different from my wheels and thus unable to develop techniques on its own.¡±

    Yuan raised an eyebrow. ¡°You know sutras?¡±

    ¡°A few,¡± Orient confirmed. ¡°Many were woven into my frame when the Thunderlands gave me life, and as a caretaker spirit such formulas come instinctively to me. I could teach you a few if you¡¯d like.¡±

    ¡°I would love to.¡± Any tool could make the difference between life and death one day, and sects jealously guarded those secrets. ¡°How were sutras woven into your frame though? Was that because of the lightning?¡±

    ¡°I rose by the will of the Spiral Dancer when she practiced her Thunderdance and joined the Dao,¡± Orient replied. ¡°She wished to return spirituality to a world that had lost it. Her wish infuses the Thunderlands created by her desire.¡±

    Yuan crossed his arms as he mulled over her words. It made sense for the will of the Wayfinders to manifest in the form of sutras, since those derived power from the formula itself rather than the world or a cultivator. He now wondered if he could derive powers from them with the proper prayers.

    Orient suddenly looked up at the ceiling, as if hearing a message inaudible to human ears. ¡°I will gladly assist you on your journey to reach the Dao, Honored Passenger Yuan, but our lesson will need to wait for another time. I am about to stop near Fleshmarket.¡±

    Yuan took a glance out the window. Great walls of cobbled concrete and steel arose from the wasteland of white flowers, encircling a city a hundred times larger than Gatesville. Fleshmarket included both familiar, packed old buildings and stranger landmarks; Yuan caught a glimpse of a central, fuming caldera of fossilized flesh, a massive broken wheel over ten floors tall, and weathered metal fortresses. Such an enclave couldn¡¯t survive without a source of untainted water, so Yuan assumed its people sat on a large reservoir of some kind.

    ¡°I remember this place used to be an amusement park,¡± Orient commented. ¡°I dropped off many tourists nearby.¡±

    ¡°Tourists?¡± Yuan repeated. He was unfamiliar with the term.

    ¡°Many passengers paid to travel and sightsee,¡± Orient explained. ¡°This place provided much entertainment to visitors.¡±

    The concept of traveling for its own sake boggled Yuan¡¯s mind. Journeying through the wasteland meant facing constant danger. The reason why he became a courier was partly because nobody wanted to leave their own safe corner of the world.

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    The Lost Age must have been a very different time for mankind.

    Yuan banished these thoughts from his mind as the spirit-train slowed down. His first order of business was visiting the local caravan office, both to notify his original client of the stolen delivery and investigate how Slash¡¯s band learned of it. His gut told him a local worker likely betrayed his team to the marauders, and they would pay the appropriate price. He would also need to replenish his weapon and ammo stock, having lost the shotgun and destroyed his revolver during the rad-hag¡¯s fight.

    ¡°I shouldn¡¯t be long,¡± Yuan promised to Holster and Orient as he prepared to disembark from the train. ¡°Just an hour or two.¡±

    Holster clearly wished to stick with him, but Orient calmed her down by gently putting her hands on the child¡¯s shoulders. ¡°We will await your return with impatience, Honored Passenger Yuan.¡±

    Yuan nodded sharply, then climbed down the train. It bothered him to leave Holster behind, but he trusted Orient to keep her safe in his absence.

    The spirit-train had parked itself near the city¡¯s gate, close to a stopping station for merchant caravans. Groups of kirin consumed dried flowers in the shadow of improvised walls built from stacked-up dead cars. To Yuan¡¯s unease, he saw armed men escort a line of dirtbound slaves bearing explosive collars around their necks through Fleshmarket¡¯s open gates.

    Quite a crowd of locals and merchants gathered near the spirit-train in curiosity. The windows and doors immediately closed on their own with metal curtains, blocking access to unwelcome visitors. Though many sent strange glances at Yuan, few dared to question him about his vehicle, though he suspected more daring onlookers would soon approach him.

    For now, Yuan walked near the gates without a word. Showing unease was a surefire way of being attacked when walking alone; Fleshmarket was the kind of place where a man should keep his iron close, and his lack of weapon would either mark him as either a cultivator or prey. He knew which kind of reputation he preferred.

    He noticed something wrong the moment he stepped through the city¡¯s gates.

    Sects in barter-oriented settlements usually understood the importance of reassuring visitors about security, but the only soldiers he saw were the caravans¡¯ escorts. Posters on the walls also advised that visiting mercenaries should report to the Bullet Church, whatever that sect was.

    Whatever the case, no one stopped Yuan at the gates and he soon entered the city proper. A vast plaza bordered by a massive water reserve stretched before him. Impossible structures backed by smaller buildings and bridges sprawled around it in a chaotic maze. The small caldera mountain oversaw the artificial lake from the other side, its surface covered in stitched flesh and Yuan immediately recognized the Flesh Mansion Sect¡¯s handiwork.

    A near full-borg stood on an enormous spirit-car nearby, addressing a crowd of dozens. The machine was of a large and fit man¡¯s shape, albeit with polished steel plates for muscles. Only his lower jaw and right leg were still mostly made of flesh, and both boasted pulsing cables instead of veins. The borg scanned the onlookers with round screen eyes, a heavy microphone in his clawed hand.

    ¡°Let me ask you,¡± he told the crowd, his voice a mix of electronic static and human vocals. ¡°Should the value of a man be determined by his birth?¡± S~?a??h the N0??F?re.n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Yuan briefly paused to take a better look. The presence of heavily armed cyborgs near the speaker¡ªhalf a dozen half-machines equipped with flamethrowers and rocket launchers¡ªhad his curiosity.

    ¡°Asthma, cancer, sickness, leukemia, fractures, heartaches¡­¡± the borg marked a short pause. ¡°Scraphood.¡±

    Yuan clenched his jaw in annoyance, then stared at the borg¡¯s sleek metal chest. A black gear symbol with a green screen at its center was painted on his metal frame; the Magnum Opus¡¯ mark.

    The Metallist Sect.

    ¡°These are the many sicknesses that a man can catch, or worse, be born with,¡± the speaker said as he walked along one edge of his spirit-car¡¯s roof to the next. ¡°Most sects and cultivators would tell you that birth determines destiny; that those who do not possess that magic ticket called talent have no right to survive, let alone thrive, in the wasteland that they have created.¡±

    He pointed at the crowd with an iron claw pulsing with qi-charged lightning.

    ¡°But there is a better way,¡± he said with confidence. ¡°Should the mediocrity of a single part determine the worth of the whole? Should you suffer the tyranny of your organs, simply because of their expiration dates? Should Scraps forever accept the dictates of their birth? I say no!¡±

    Yuan thought. He would lie if he said the borg¡¯s speech didn¡¯t resonate with him, but he had heard it before many times. The Metallists were the most recent major sect to rise to prominence¡ªtheir Wayfinder ascending a mere seven years ago¡ªand they aggressively attempted to expand their influence by linking Screen Cities, promoting the spread of cybernetics, and encroaching on the territory of older organizations.

    However, since it was easier to poach existing cultivators rather than raise Scraps from nothing, they focused on the former rather than the latter; and the Scraps that they did recruit had to spend fortunes or hefty favors to pay for their enhancements. Yuan had tried to join them once, only to grow sour when he realized they didn¡¯t differ much from any other sect promising the moon and delivering little.

    ¡°Your body is not a temple above reproach!¡± The speaker banged his hand against his chest. ¡°It is a car! A vehicle to house your immortal soul on the road to the Dao! A machine that can be tuned, improved, and repaired! A complex mechanism whose defective parts and be replaced with newer, better ones! I know this because I used to be a Scrap too, fit only for the junkyard!¡±

    Yuan¡¯s hand brushed against his bullet-core and the metal spreading from it. Though he knew the Metallist Sect and the Gun followed different paths, he wasn¡¯t blind to the similarities.

    ¡°My obsolete flesh was a prison from which the Magnum Opus freed me!¡± the borg continued. ¡°She peeled away my tumor-ridden skin and replaced it with smooth metal! She gave me iron bones that would never break, a shining heart that would never stop beating, black blood that would never stop flowing! She perfected my silicon soul piece by piece until one day, that stillborn core of mine began to cycle for the first time!¡±

    Yuan wondered why a sect would advertise for commoners and passerbys, considering the limited resources required to chrome up a single individual, when the solution hit him like a spirit-car thrown at full speed.

    They were strapped for bodies.

    ¡°The heavens have given you flesh, but through your hard work and the sweat of your brow, technology will give you a better future! For what is science, but a gift man gave to himself?!¡± The speaker extended a hand to the onlookers, inviting them to join him on his chosen path. ¡°So cast away your wayward flesh, children of the waste, and join us Metallists! I make that vow to you: you too can be reforged through the strength of your iron will!¡±

    The crowd erupted in cheers, but Yuan was already walking away when it did. He was certain of it now. The recruitment speeches, the posters advertising for mercenaries, the absence of guards¡­ he recognized the signs.

    A sect war was brewing in Fleshmarket.

 Chapter 21: The Apocalypse Man

    It didn¡¯t take Yuan long to find the Eastern Express¡¯ local office.The small wooden warehouse stood near the artificial lake¡¯s waterfront, nestled between a bar and a whorehouse. Yuan knew that because three prostitutes had tried to petition him on his way there while a child beggar attempted to pickpocket him. He told off the former and slapped the latter off his back. Nobody dared to mug him though, which he took as a good sign.

    His eyes lingered on the badly painted sign above the door. Under better circumstances, he would have crossed the threshold at Mingxia¡¯s back and let her handle the negotiations. Instead, he walked inside alone, his fists clenched and his mind set on revenge.

    Someone here had betrayed his team to Slash and would pay the appropriate price.

    Yuan cautiously walked into the office, finding it to be a well-lit lounge similar to the trading post he encountered back in Gatesville. The windows were closed, the curtains dimming the sunlight outside. The carpeted floor led to a small stairway and a counter behind which stood walls filled with heavy ledgers. The smell of smoke hung over dirty plush chairs meant for visitors.

    The place was quiet, and worst of all, empty.

    That immediately put Yuan on edge. No caravan post was ever devoid of people, even when closed; and he had seen no sign of it outside. Someone should be here, whether it was a disgruntled courier waiting for the receptionist to give him his package or a guard keeping watch over the facility.

    Yuan immediately looked around with all of his senses. He didn¡¯t detect any abnormal qi in the area, so it couldn¡¯t be an illusion or a barrier. The smell of smoke indicated that someone had been here not too long ago. He didn¡¯t detect any secret hole that would allow a sniper to strike him either.

    ¡°Is someone here?¡± Yuan called out and received no answer. Now truly on guard, he cautiously took a step forward with his fists raised for battle. He wasn¡¯t one to back down from a fight, but his gut told him something terrible had happened here. ¡°Anyone?¡±

    Once he had taken a few steps forward and confirmed that he was indeed alone, Yuan cautiously peeked over the counter. No hidden enemies arose to ambush him. He instead found out the likely source of the smoke smell.

    Three neatly separated piles of ashes.

    A chill traveled down Yuan¡¯s spine as he checked the plush chairs. Small mounds of dust sat on the leather, the remains of unlucky workers or couriers caught in the crossfire of a terrible tragedy. Yuan counted dozens of them spread around the hall, and he expected to find more upstairs.

    Someone had killed everyone inside the building so cleanly that nobody outside its walls noticed.

    The Eastern Express benefitted from the protection of many local sects. It could have been a first strike in the brewing local war, but Yuan would have expected more damage if that were the case. Elders liked spectacular attacks because they sent a message.

    Yuan couldn¡¯t fathom the reason behind the attack. What benefit would there be for secretly wiping out a neutral Scrap-run trading post? Information? Yuan checked the ledgers, but found them entirely undisturbed. If anyone had stolen or destroyed any specific records, he couldn¡¯t tell which.

    And these ash piles¡­ the closer Yuan looked at them, the more they bothered him. His qi sense detected faint, familiar green particles mixed with the remains of the dead. The same kind that had been polluting the rad-hag¡¯s Thunderlands.

    Radioactive dust.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for you, courier.¡±

    Yuan¡¯s head snapped back right in time to see the door close behind him on its own.

    A man sat in the corner of the room in a lotus position, his glowing green eyes glaring at Yuan from the shadows with frightening intensity. An ancient, tattered scroll lay at his feet.

    A shiver ran down Yuan¡¯s spine as a sensation of all-consuming, overwhelming fell upon him. The figure, a tall, lean man with chiseled muscle and skin paler than chalk, radiated an aura of unyielding power. He wore nothing except for a tattered yellow-green loincloth of torn rubber and a mask made from the upper part of a human skull, leaving his wrinkled jaw and glowing emerald eyes exposed. A small dharmachakra wheel of rusted steel floated on its own behind his head like a halo. White tumors covered his shoulders in a thick armor of cysts and a trefoil symbol was tattooed on his chest: three curved blades around a central circle.

    The man bore a wealth of scars and wrinkles in spite of his muscular physique, which marked him as an ancient soul. This immediately put Yuan on edge. There were weak cultivators and old cultivators, but there were no .

    Yuan was certain he had been alone in this room a moment ago. He¡¯d double-checked. Moreover, he could count on one hand the number of people who had managed to sneak up on him in the past, cultivators included; his whole job revolved around avoiding that kind of ambush.

    ¡°Are you Yuan Guang?¡± the stranger asked with a low, raspy voice that reminded Yuan of a cockroach batting its wings. He slowly stood up on his two feet with a trained dancer¡¯s elegance, his lean frame towering over Yuan¡¯s and his wheel halo spinning on its own. ¡°Or is it Jaw-Long?¡±

    The stranger didn¡¯t breathe or make any sound when he walked. Even Scraps radiated a measure of qi; they simply couldn¡¯t process it due to their broken core. No creature should lack it, yet the man in front of Yuan felt like a walking void to his senses. This could only mean one thing.

    This stranger¡¯s control over his qi was so precise that he could completely mask it from detection.

    This man was unbelievably . His aura felt a thousand times more threatening than Slash¡¯s and the rad-hag¡¯s combined; even the glimpse Yuan had caught of Revolver¡¯s true strength paled before the overwhelming threat in front of him. Every fiber of Yuan¡¯s body told him that he was now standing at the edge of a lethal precipice. The shadow of death lingered around this place.

    Yuan recalled the times when he had stood in a sect elder¡¯s presence while still a Scrap. The same sensation of instinctual intimidation, of being prey in a predator¡¯s presence, coursed through his veins. Crossing two of the Coils of Infinity was nowhere near enough to cross the gulf in strength between them.

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    One wrong word would spell Yuan¡¯s doom. He could feel it in his bones. That the stranger could kill him in an instant if he wished, the same way he had massacred everyone inside these walls.

    ¡°Yuan Guang,¡± he replied cautiously, his mind furiously assessing the distance between himself and the nearest window. It was a long shot, but he might be able to make a break for the street outside with a well-timed Recoil burst.

    Yuan was no coward, but the thought of fighting this man never crossed his mind. If he fought here, he would die short of a miracle. End of the story.

    The ancient cultivator crossed his arms in a pose of supreme confidence and authority. His eyes lingered on the bullet-core stuck inside Yuan¡¯s forehead and flickered in recognition.

    ¡°A Gunsoul,¡± he said with what could pass for curiosity. ¡°Interesting. Who murdered you, child?¡±

    Yuan clenched his jaw. If the man was familiar with Gunsouls, he would likely target his bullet-core first should a battle begin. ¡°Men working for the Yinyang Khan.¡±

    ¡°The Yinyang Khan?¡± The stranger hardly seemed surprised. ¡°Makes sense. Of course he would seek to get his claws on the cube too. I wonder how he learned of its existence.¡±

    This man had been waiting to steal the package, same as Slash beforehand. This roused Yuan¡¯s curiosity. Warlords and cultivators of this stranger¡¯s caliber wouldn¡¯t work so hard to obtain a run-the-mill artifact.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Yuan dared to ask, his hands ready to unleash a Recoil Fist at the first sign of hostility. It would be a fool¡¯s errand, but at least he would die fighting.

    The stranger shrugged his shoulders. ¡°You may call me Manhattan.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not your real name.¡±

    ¡°I have forgotten mine long ago, if I ever had one in the first place. You may call me whatever you wish if Manhattan is not to your liking.¡± The ancient cultivator dismissed the subject with a wave of his hand. ¡°I assume your murderers stole the cube, did they not? Why did you come here then?¡±

    Yuan tensed up. Why would this man care? Still, he wasn¡¯t losing anything by answering the question and gaining a precious amount of time to think. ¡°To report the theft to my employer, and find out who betrayed my team¡¯s location.¡±

    ¡°Your employer?¡± The stranger¡¯s chalky lips morphed into an amused smile, revealing rows of blackened teeth. ¡°You stand before him. I commissioned this run, alongside seven decoys meant to hide your position.¡±

    ¡° the client?¡± Yuan squinted slightly, though this answer didn¡¯t surprise him much. This Manhattan¡¯s knowledge and detailed information suddenly made a lot more sense.

    ¡°I came here to discreetly pick up my package, but the staff firmly insisted that they had lost contact with the deliverers. I sensed their lies and interrogated them¡­¡± The man glanced at the nearest ash pile. ¡°Perhaps a bit more roughly than I should have, I¡¯ll admit.¡±

    Yuan considered himself lucky to have avoided that kind of interrogation¡­ at least so far.

    ¡°How did you know I would visit this place at all?¡± Yuan wondered. Did the people of Gatesville somehow manage to inform this trading post of his arrival?

    ¡°I did not, but I had nothing to lose from waiting. I was meditating on how to proceed when you showed up.¡± Manhattan intertwined his fingers in a strange prayer pose. ¡°Good thing I did too. I see which way the wheel spins now.¡±

    Yuan squinted in confusion. ¡°The wheel?¡±

    ¡°Of karma. What goes around comes around. You¡¯ll learn this should you reach my age.¡± Manhattan¡¯s eyes lingered on Yuan, who suddenly realized that the strange cultivator had no eyelids to blink with. ¡°Duty and revenge are both shackles for the mind, but I applaud your professionalism. Self-discipline will lead you far.¡±

    The compliment sounded strangely sincere, though Yuan was too tense to appreciate it. Moreover, his curiosity demanded answers. He wanted to learn what his partners died for.

    ¡°What was my team¡¯s package?¡± he inquired. Manhattan appeared strangely cordial so far, so he might reveal some tidbit of information. ¡°Why would a cultivator of your caliber and the Yinyang Khan seek it so fervently?¡±

    To his surprise, the man actually deigned to answer his question.

    ¡°You were transporting the Cube of Natho, an artifact created during the chaotic years that preceded the Sky-Biter¡¯s ascension. I spent a great deal of resources securing its secret recovery and transport. As for what it does¡­¡± Manhattan stroked his calcified chin. ¡°In the right hands, it will be this world¡¯s salvation; in the wrong ones, such as the Khan¡¯s, it will become a weapon of terrible power.¡±

    That was as evasive an answer as they came, but Yuan¡¯s gut told him he wouldn¡¯t get anything more than that. He could sense that the stranger¡¯s indulgence had its limits. S~?a??h the ?0velF?re.n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡°You will find your payment for the delivery behind the counter,¡± Manhattan said before turning his back on Yuan; a supreme show of confidence¡ªand a terrible insult¡ªwhen in the presence of another cultivator. ¡°You may take my sutra scroll with you too, if you want it. I have no further use for it.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re letting me walk away?¡± Yuan couldn¡¯t believe his ears. ¡°Even though I¡¯ve lost the package?"

    ¡°What good is anger? Such a narrow-minded emotion that blinds one¡¯s vision has no place within me.¡± Manhattan let out a dry chuckle akin to a fireplace¡¯s noise. ¡°Besides, I suspect that your survival will lead the cube back to me in due time. The flow of karma will pull it to me.¡±

    Yuan frowned in confusion. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±

    ¡°You will, once you learn to see farther ahead,¡± Manhattan replied with the tone of a wise elder enlightening a foolish student. He stepped closer to the door, then suddenly stopped and peeked over his shoulder at Yuan. ¡°Though I am curious. What do you intend to do with your second life?¡±

    ¡°Why ask at all?¡± Yuan retorted. ¡°I can tell you don¡¯t care in the slightest.¡±

    ¡°Nothing forces you to answer, child,¡± Manhattan replied calmly. ¡°I have no interest in killing you, whether you indulge my idle curiosity or not.¡±

    Yuan was sure of it now. The way Manhattan murdered dozens so casually and efficiently without a hint of rage or satisfaction had already been a warning, and their entire conversation had only solidified this impression. The cultivator gathered useful information and pointless trivia with equal, inhuman detachment. Yuan was nothing more than an insect who had suddenly caught his interest, and whom he would forget once his whim had passed. A void separated him from the rest of humanity.

    ¡°I¡¯ll gear up,¡± Yuan answered cautiously, ¡°track down my team¡¯s killers, and slaughter every last one of them.¡±

    ¡°As I feared.¡± Manhattan shook his head in disappointment. ¡°Revenge is not the Dao¡¯s way, Gunsoul. Such pointless ventures are what drive our souls to reincarnate in this doomed world. They weigh down our spirit and prevent us from reaching enlightenment. That bullet stuck in your head is not your salvation, but a leash that binds you.¡±

    Yuan snorted at the man¡¯s contempt. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be standing here without this bullet. It made me strong.¡±

    ¡°Cultivators pursue power for its own sake, but their ambitions always turn into shackles that smother their development,¡± Manhattan replied. ¡°They obsess over strength and immortality, heedless that a perfect object cannot coexist with a flawed world such as this one. Binding oneself to an imperfect universe drags us down, not up. Only through total detachment can we achieve true bliss.¡±

    ¡°Is that why you¡¯re leaving that scroll?¡± Yuan pondered as he glanced at the piece of paper lying on the ground. Sutra formulas indeed appeared to be written on its surface. ¡°No sect would abandon anything so valuable.¡±

    ¡°Which is exactly why those fools will never reach the Dao. Hoarding knowledge turns it into an anchor. It enslaves you instead of freeing you.¡± His curiosity satisfied, Manhattan opened the door and crossed its threshold. ¡°Cast away your pointless vendetta and dedicate yourself to your studies. Only then will you reach the Dao.¡±

    His body then vanished in a green glow without a trace.

    For a few seconds, Yuan couldn¡¯t move an inch. He remained frozen in place with his fists raised for battle and his feet ready to run for his life. He half-expected Manhattan to change his mind and come back to murder him.

    When he at least grew convinced that the ancient cultivator had spared his life, Yuan allowed him to let out a breath filled with tension. Every fiber of his being told him he had narrowly avoided a second death today.

    ¡°The Cube of Natho?¡± he muttered under his breath before glancing at the piles of ashes. Whoever had betrayed his team¡¯s location to the Yinyang Khan was likely among them. It brought him a measure of satisfaction, even if he hadn¡¯t delivered the final blow himself, but he now wondered how far down the Centidead hole went. ¡°What were we transporting?¡±

    Yuan had peeked behind the curtain and caught a glimpse of a greater scheme.

    He wasn¡¯t sure he liked what he saw.

 Chapter 22: The Bullet Church

    When Yuan questioned the locals about where he could buy guns, they all answered It didn¡¯t take him long to find the place on the eastern side of town. The enormous stone building loomed over these parts like a Wayfinder¡¯s temple, its steps flanked by statues of ancient warriors adorned with newer bullet bandoliers and crude armor. Impact holes and deep gouges defaced the outer walls¡¯ murals. Yuan assumed that this place used to honor an ancient Lost Age demigod slain during the world¡¯s unmaking.

    The courtyard was Yuan¡¯s dream: a bustling market of makeshift racks holding meticulously cleaned rifles, guns, shotguns, cannons, and lovingly crafted explosives lined up between crumbling pillars. Empty bullet casings and discarded magazines formed a carpet of brass and steel, and the lovingly acrid smell of gunpowder lingered everywhere.

    This would have looked like home for a firearm-enthusiast like Yuan, if not for a few worrying details. He saw Scraps praying before makeshift altars made from old crates honoring customized rifles and six-shooters; a man in a garb of leather and woven bullet casings applied gunpowder to two men¡¯s faces before letting them play a game of revolver roulette; a black-haired man examining the weapon racks sent Yuan a few worrying looks; and a large, tattered crimson banner proclaimed the place¡¯s motto in bold letters above the church¡¯s grand entrance.

    Yuan originally thought the name of ¡®Bullet Church¡¯ was nothing more than a fancy marketplace¡¯s name, and he now realized his mistake. These people truly the Gun. Interesting. Yuan wondered if they knew anything about Gunsouls and their abilities.

    He barely had time to look at the courtyard¡¯s weapons before a strange gunslinger walked out of the temple to greet him. The odd fellow wore a black cape billowing in the wind and a pair of revolvers around their belt, but their most distinctive feature was the gray bucket they wore over their head. Two bullet holes allowed for a pair of green eyes to stare through it. Yuan couldn¡¯t tell whether it was a man or a woman until they spoke to him.

    ¡°Homing, homing, bullet-brother,¡± the stranger said with a cheerful man¡¯s voice. ¡°I¡¯m gunpowder-inquisitor Bucket. How may I help you?¡±

    ¡°Bullet-brother?¡± Yuan asked with a frown. The man didn¡¯t strike him as a Gunsoul and in fact appeared to lack any qi. Then again, Manhattan could disguise his aura¡­

    ¡°I¡¯m a fellow roulette survivor too.¡± Bucket pointed a gloved finger at Yuan¡¯s bullet-core. ¡°The Gun rewarded our devotion with life.¡±

    A shot echoed out in the background as if on cue. Yuan peeked over his shoulder and watched a duo of onlookers drag one of the roulette players away, his head bleeding red from a big fat hole.

    ¡°Another volunteer bites the dust.¡± Bucket made a sign on his chest with his fingers. Yuan recognized the vague shape of a gun. ¡°May the Gun welcome him in the Bullet Hell, where he shall fight for all eternity.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re trying to become Gunsouls?¡± Yuan guessed. ¡°Has it ever worked?

    ¡°Not yet,¡± Bucket replied with disturbing enthusiasm. ¡°But the Gun is bound to choose one of us eventually!¡±

    Yuan hid his discomfort behind a mask of composure. He didn¡¯t blame these desperate Scraps for latching onto any hope of becoming a cultivator, but he wasn¡¯t certain that the Gun picked his chosen according to their faith. Revolver called him a demigod of ultraviolence and revenge who imbued vengeful dead like them with a half-life. Bucket¡¯s inability to recognize him as a Gunsoul told him everything he needed to know.

    These people were throwing their lives away on hearsay.

    Nonetheless, Yuan was smart enough not to question a cult¡¯s beliefs on their own temple¡¯s grounds. Such an act was bound to make a scene.

    ¡°I¡¯m looking to trade,¡± Yuan said upon opening his bag and revealing its contents: alcohol, housewares, and Lost Age trinkets salvaged from the spirit-train. ¡°I need weapons and ammo.¡±

    Yuan had left Manhattan¡¯s sutra scroll for Orient and Holster to read after his encounter with Manhattan, where he informed his allies of his encounter in the Eastern Caravan office and then returned to Fleshmarket with a bag full of supplies to trade. He didn¡¯t intend to take too long. A few locals already attempted to ransack the spirit-train, though nothing came out of it.

    When he¡¯d asked Orient what happened to them, the caretaker smiled sweetly at him and said, ¡°A train¡¯s engine never has enough fuel.¡±

    He didn¡¯t push for more details.

    Yuan knew Orient could take care of the occasional Scrap robbers, but it was only a matter of time before local cultivators made a bid to take over the spirit-train. A moving fortress of that size would prove too much of an attractive resource in the coming war. Yuan either had to quickly pick a side or skip town.

    ¡°You¡¯ve knocked on the right door, bullet-brother,¡± Bucket replied while rubbing his hands together. ¡°What kind of weapons are you looking for?¡±

    ¡°Handguns, revolvers, and shotguns,¡± Yuan replied. He had already secured his group¡¯s provisions and those were the weapons he was most familiar with.

    ¡°Ah, the classics.¡± Bucket knocked a fist against his ¡®helmet¡¯ in what could pass for a gesture of contrition. ¡°Unfortunately, they¡¯re victims of their popularity lately.¡±

    Yuan didn¡¯t hide his displeasure. ¡°The Sects already put in orders?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t misunderstand me, bullet-brother, we¡¯ve got plenty of weapons. It¡¯s the we lack. See, our Bullet Church has plenty of metalworkers to assemble firearms, but manufacturing quality casings and primers? Producing delicious gunpowder? Those require both scarce chemicals and tools.¡±

    Yuan feared as much. Bullets were often more expensive than the firearms used to fire them, and Sects preparing for war would naturally hoard them. The First and Second Coil cultivators making up the bulk of their troops died to them the same as any Scrap.

    ¡°If you¡¯re looking for ammo, , then we¡¯ve got your fill.¡±

    Yuan tensed up, his head snapping in the new voice¡¯s direction.

    The black-haired man who had been examining the guns earlier stepped forward. His gaunt frame belied the tense, wiry strength of a trained cultivator. His skin was ashen gray, his jet-black hair spiky and unkempt, his pupilless white eyes sinking into his emaciated skull. Loose purple rags hung on his thin frame, covering everything except for the head and his dirty bare feet, and a rusty chain coiled around his chest like a bandolier.

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    It was his smile that unsettled Yuan the most. Something in his yellow-toothed, manic grin felt downright menacing. This man was no Manhattan and hardly any older than Yuan himself, but he radiated a trained killer¡¯s aura.

    Moreover, he had recognized Yuan as a Gunsoul unlike the Bullet Church¡¯s members. This guy was no poser.

    ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡± Yuan asked tersely. Bucket took a step back from them, his hands nervously grasping at his revolvers.

    ¡°The name¡¯s Gayak,¡± said the grinning man. ¡°A disciple of the Flesh Mansion Sect. I¡¯ve heard you came in that huge spirit-train parked outside our fair city.¡±

    Yuan tensed up. He knew this would happen sooner or later. ¡°What if I did?¡±

    ¡°Then you¡¯ve got my attention. You wouldn¡¯t have asked about Sect orders if you were associated with one.¡± The cultivator sized up Yuan, head to toe. ¡°Are you a gun for hire?¡±

    Yuan crossed his arms. ¡°Not for slave runs.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m only interested in a ,¡± Gayak replied with a hint of amusement. ¡°That spirit-train of yours can stay parked for all we care. We just want you to shoot at some overly proud cyborgs for a few days. You kill, you get paid, you leave. Not a bad deal, eh?¡± S?a??h th? ???el F?re.n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Yuan remained cautious. He held no appreciation for slavers like the Flesh Mansion Sect and fighting the Metallists was above his usual paygrade, but if they could offer him a Third Coil qi pill¡­ ¡°What do you offer?¡±

    ¡°Guns, ammo¡­ clean pills too.¡± Yuan didn¡¯t show any hint of interest, knowing that silence would lead Gayak to drive up his price. ¡°And a pardon for your theft.¡±

    Yuan blinked in surprise. ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°See, a Human Pillar was supposed to pass through this town on its way to Furyland. The sellers never arrived. She was supposed to come from the east, just like you did.¡± Gayak hummed into the air. ¡°And you of a Hitobashira. Strange coincidence, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    ¡°You should check your nose,¡± Yuan replied coldly. ¡°Or it might break soon.¡±

    Gayak chuckled in amusement at his thinly veiled threat; a typical cultivator¡¯s behavior. ¡°You want to keep that child safe?¡± he asked. ¡°Make sure no one will ever come after her again?"

    Yuan assessed the distance between them. A good Recoil Fist to the man¡¯s head would send it flying into the nearest wall. ¡°Those who try will do so at their peril.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just saying we can spare you the trouble,¡± Gayak replied. ¡°We can that girl. Fix her core. The Metallists lack the knowledge and techniques to perform the operation, but we have . We¡¯ll swear an Unspeakable Vow, if that¡¯s what it takes.¡±

    ¡°An Unspeakable Vow?¡± That took Yuan aback. ¡°Those who swear it do so on their core.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡± Gayak nodded sharply. ¡°Oathbreakers forever surrender their right to cultivate. No cultivator will swear it lightly.¡±

    And no Sect would offer one to an outsider if they weren¡¯t in a deep bind. ¡°You need help that bad?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m confident we¡¯ll win without you, Gunsoul,¡± Gayak replied calmly. Yuan couldn¡¯t tell whether he believed it or not. ¡°But the slower we win, the more damage Fleshmarket will take. What good are victories with ashes for a prize?¡±

    Yuan thought. Fleshmarket was a key hub for the slave trade crossing the Fanged Coast. Its destruction would seriously cripple the Flesh Mansion Sect¡¯s activities in the region.

    ¡°I need to think about it,¡± Yuan replied tersely. He didn¡¯t trust the Flesh Mansion Sect and the thought of helping them preserve their slave trade sickened him, but the offer was tempting. A Third Coil pill would improve his odds of victory once he tracked down Slash, and stripping Holster of her curse would ensure her safety in the long-run.

    ¡°Of course, but think quickly. Things are going to get pretty hot in this city very soon. You¡¯ll find us at the Flesh Volcano in the town center.¡± Gayak shrugged. ¡°I suggest you either pick the winning side or get the hell out of there. Nothing but death awaits you if you join the Metallists.¡±

    Yuan glared at him. ¡°Is that a threat?¡±

    ¡°An ,¡± Gayak replied. ¡°The Metallists want this turf so they can expand the Screen City nearby, and they¡¯ve already recruited a Gunsoul of their own. They¡¯re more likely to sacrifice you to him than to give you a better offer.¡±

    Another Gunsoul? Something about the man¡¯s wording sent chills down Yuan¡¯s spine. ¡°?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know?¡± Gayak¡¯s maniacal smirk somehow widened even further. ¡°Think this through. Crossing the Third means eating a clean qi pill or a spirit-beast¡¯s core, but you Gunsouls have another way available to you.¡±

    Gayak pointed at Yuan¡¯s bullet-core.

    ¡°You can hunt down another of your kindred,¡± he said, ¡°and bite that sweet bullet-core.¡±

    Yuan clenched his jaw. He hadn¡¯t considered that possibility, but now it sounded frighteningly plausible to him. Ascending through the Third Coil involved ingesting a huge amount of qi in a single buffet, and a Gunsoul¡¯s bullet acted like any spirit-beast¡¯s core. An individual on the Path of the Gun could probably benefit from ingesting one.

    Yet he let Yuan live.

    Meeting kind and altruistic people in the Unmade World was quite rare. Yuan considered himself fortunate that Revolver found him instead of a more unscrupulous Gunsoul.

    ¡°That¡¯s the Path of the Gun for you, stranger: weeding out the weak ¡®till the lead harvest, or so I¡¯ve heard.¡± Gayak took his leave. ¡°Think wisely. I pray we meet again as friends next time.¡±

    Yuan watched him leave without a word, then turned to look at Bucket. To his horror, the man was kneeling in the dirt in prayer alongside a few other worshipers.

    ¡°A Gunsoul has come to visit us!¡± Bucket exclaimed for all to hear, his arms opened wide. ¡°Bless you for sending us this holy messenger, oh Gunfire Father!¡±

    ¡°Quiet!¡± Yuan chided him, though he knew it was already too late. Word of his true nature would spread through Fleshmarket. ¡°Was it true what he said? There¡¯s another Gunsoul in town allied with the Metallists?¡±

    Yuan was no expert on body language, but he detected a surge of disdain coursing through Bucket. ¡°That heretic Gatling Man has indeed forsaken the Path of the Gun for that of the Magnum Opus!¡± The gunpowder-inquisitor rose back to his feet and began to plead with Yuan. ¡°Have you come to punish him?¡±

    Yuan couldn¡¯t care less about this ¡®Gatling Man¡¯ or the Bullet Church¡¯s beliefs. However, if Gayak told the truth, then the other Gunsoul would likely hunt him down once he learned of Yuan¡¯s true nature. The Metallists wouldn¡¯t set aside the chance to strengthen one of their soldiers in the coming conflict.

    What a .

    ¡°Who was that man?¡± Yuan asked. ¡°Gayak?¡±

    ¡°Gayak, the Organ Fetishist. Elder Polio¡¯s personal apprentice.¡± Bucket shuddered. ¡°He always harvests body parts from the cultivators he has killed.¡±

    Yuan pondered the information. The name of Elder Polio came up a lot when he asked who led the Flesh Mansion Sect. His personal apprentice¡¯s word carried a lot of weight, so Gayak¡¯s recruitment offer was most likely genuine.

    Nonetheless, assisting the Flesh Mansion Sect in protecting their slave trade¡¯s interests left a sour taste in Yuan¡¯s mouth; nor did he fully believe that Gayak¡¯s cohorts would let Holster leave with just a slap on her back.

    ¡°I dislike Sects,¡± Yuan admitted. Serving one only reinforced his distaste for them. ¡°And ultimatums even more so.¡±

    Bucket didn¡¯t say a word for a moment, then joined his hands. ¡°Well, honored Gunsoul¡­ If I told you there was a way to waste both sides, would it pique your interest?¡±

    Yuan raised an eyebrow. At this point, he might as well explore all his options. ¡°I¡¯m listening¡­¡±

    ¡°Have you heard of the Ammobog?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Yuan replied flatly.

    ¡°It¡¯s a marsh near Fleshmarket, and the holy resting place of the Gunsoul who gloriously defeated Czar Zoa years ago,¡± Bucket explained. Yuan recalled that the name belonged to a nuclear cultivator who Revolver mentioned on his way to Gatesville. ¡°Her bullet-core bloomed into a fertile farm of magazines and gunpowder. You can pick an ammo harvest there, since your spirit-train could load up on quite the haul.¡±

    Yuan quickly caught on. Bucket suggested solving the ammo shortage, then equipping both Sects to worsen the conflict.

    Quite the interesting strategy. Letting the Sects slaughter each other would spare him both the trouble of dealing with Gatling Man and the Flesh Mansion Sect¡¯s retaliations. Yuan would be on his way to track down Slash by the time a winner emerged.

    Lots of bystanders would die in the crossfire, though. Yuan told himself that he didn¡¯t owe them anything. The Metallists and the Flesh Mansion Sects would kill anybody caught between them anyway, guns or no guns. Delivering ammo to Fleshmarket would be like any other courier job. He would make a delivery and then let them duke it out.

    Moreover, if eating another Gunsoul¡¯s bullet-core would let him transcend to the Third Coil¡­

    ¡°Wait,¡± Yuan said as he noticed an inconsistency. ¡°If there''s such a place near Fleshmarket, why haven¡¯t you harvested the ammo yourself already?¡±

    ¡°The Gunsoul¡¯s ghost kills everyone who intrudes upon the Ammobog,¡± Bucket said. ¡°But as a fellow chosen of the Gun, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be the exception!¡±

    Yuan sighed. He¡¯d expected as much.

    Still¡­ it didn¡¯t hurt to check.

 Chapter 23: The Authority

    The spirit-train left Fleshmarket at sunset for its first courier job.Yuan sealed a pretty good deal with Bucket: the man would board with six Bullet Church cultists and enough crates to house a sizable cargo, then receive a free ride back and forth to the Ammobog for a bullet harvest. Yuan would provide transportation and security in exchange for money, supplies, and his pick of weapons and ammo.

    ¡°Gatling Man stole the holy minigun and the Flesh Mansion Sect purchased all our sniper rifles,¡± Bucket had told him before presenting him with twin wonders. ¡°Henceforth, we entrust you with the Saint Heckler and the Kalash Angel.¡±

    Yuan spent most of the evening examining these new toys while Orient served dinner in the restaurant wagon. He had already used submachine guns like the Saint Heckler in the past, but he had never managed to get his hands on a true assault rifle like the Kalash Angel. His body shivered in pleasure the moment he touched the handle. His finger traced a line from one end of the rifle to the barrel¡¯s end, delighting at the smooth sensation of his skin pressing against the stainless steel.

    Handguns would forever remain his favorite firearms, but this assault rifle captured his heart like no other.

    ¡°Are you enjoying your dinner so far?¡± Orient asked her guests as she finished serving the ¡®dessert¡¯: an assortment of dry cakes and root vegetables.

    ¡°It was , M¡¯lady,¡± Bucket replied after sneaking food into his helmet without removing it. Yuan wondered how he could eat at all this way. ¡°You are spoiling us!¡±

    ¡°The pleasure is all mine,¡± Orient replied with a kind smile. ¡°It has been so many years since I last welcomed guests within my halls. I¡¯ve missed the experience very much.¡±

    Orient certainly treated her passengers better than stowaways.

    Yuan glanced at Holster, who sat next to him and lowered her gaze whenever the Bullet Church cultists so much as looked in her direction. Orient tried to convince her to interact with their guests, to no avail.

    Yuan thought it would be better if Holster grew acclimated to guests, especially if the team started taking on more courier jobs. Passengers would then become a common occurrence his charge would have to live with. Yuan didn¡¯t trust anyone, but the cultists venerated him the way high-level cultivators inspired awe among Scraps. They wouldn¡¯t bother Holster on his watch; and if they did, Orient could take care of them. Nothing could escape her notice inside the spirit-train¡¯s confines.

    One of the cultists took a pause from his dinner and looked through the windows with apprehension. Night had fallen, and the moon was pitch black. ¡°Sorry to doubt you, M¡¯lady, but will this spirit-train truly protect us from moonburns?¡±

    ¡°You are perfectly safe so long as you do not open the windows,¡± Orient reassured him with a pleasant smile. ¡°I do question why Honored Guest Yuan insisted on leaving at twilight instead of the morning, when we would have had better visibility.¡±

    ¡°Because we¡¯re less likely to be followed and attacked this way,¡± Yuan replied. Moonburning didn¡¯t distinguish between sides so few dared to launch raids at night, especially with clear skies. ¡°Either Sect may try to intercept us or steal the shipment.¡±

    Bucket didn¡¯t miss an opportunity to kiss Yuan¡¯s butt. ¡°A wise plan, as expected from a holy Gunsoul! Only a sniper¡¯s mind like yours could possess such a jade beauty like Lady Orient for a wife!¡±

    Yuan suppressed a shiver of unease. In his experience, Scraps either resented cultivators or worshiped the ground they walked on. Both behaved that way for the same reason: cultivators could do things most people could only dream of.

    Yuan disliked Bucket¡¯s adoration because it felt unearned. He didn¡¯t receive it because of what he had , but because of what he . Moreover, that behavior led to expectations. Scraps worshiping cultivators demanded attention, protection, or favor; none of which Yuan was willing to give beyond his contact¡¯s obligations.

    ¡°Orient is not my wife,¡± Yuan grumbled before Bucket could get any ideas. Besides, ? Orient was a .

    ¡°Thank you for the compliment though, Honored Guest Bucket,¡± Orient said, her smile unwavering. ¡°If you would kindly let me show you to your cabins next? We should arrive at our destination in a few hours, and a day of hard work awaits you tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°O-Of course, M¡¯lady!¡± Bucket jumped out of his seat, as did the other cultists. One stuffed his mouth with dessert and nearly choked in his hurry to follow Orient into the passenger wagon, much to Yuan¡¯s amusement.

    Orient reminded him so much of Mingxia. His old teammate possessed a combination of refined poise and easy charm that let her lead people by the nose.

    Especially men.

    Now that he was alone with Holster, Yuan grabbed the plates, scraped every crumb and stain he could find with a knife, and then bottled them up in a small container. He had starved too many times in the past to waste food now. S~?a??h the N?v?lFir?.n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡°Have you taken a look at the scroll?¡± Yuan asked Holster while washing the dishes. His charge nodded, before shifting in her seat and making hand signs he didn¡¯t recognize. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±

    ¡°Miss Holster is asking what a wife is,¡± Orient said after she returned alone from the passenger car. ¡°I admit I find the concept a bit difficult to grasp too. Would you mind enlightening us?¡±

    ¡°A wife is a waste of time,¡± Yuan replied gruffly. Hitting on women, like Jawlong used to whenever they visited a new place, always struck him as a pointless distraction. ¡°A husband too.¡±

    Orient frowned in confusion. ¡°Why would Mister Bucket consider me a waste of time? I always arrive early.¡±

    Yuan quickly realized that explaining the concept of wife to a living train might be too tall a mountain to climb.

    ¡°It¡¯s not important,¡± he replied in an attempt to change the subject. ¡°What about the scroll? Did you take a look?¡±

    Orient¡¯s smile thinned noticeably. ¡°We did.¡±

    Yuan squinted as Holster returned from the last wagon with the scroll itself. He hardly recognized it. The tattered, ancient piece of paper looked almost brand new.

    ¡°The original document was tainted by the same poison that corrupted my predecessor¡¯s Thunderlands,¡± Orient explained with a hint of unease. ¡°Considering what happened to her, I thought it wise to use my power and restore it to a prior state rather than risk Miss Holster growing sick, or worse, transforming into a rad-hag myself. I might have erased a few sentences in the process, but I hope you will understand my caution.¡±

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    ¡°Better safe than sorry.¡± Yuan crossed his arms. Manhattan¡¯s generosity made more sense now. His gift had been poisoned. ¡°So you¡¯re saying that the scroll was irradiated?¡±

    ¡°Most certainly,¡± Orient confirmed.

    Yuan didn¡¯t like this one bit. Manhattan already gave away the same aura as the irradiated city near Gatesville. Either he found the scroll in a similar place, or he followed the same Nuclear Path as the late Czar Zoa.

    He had the gut feeling nothing good would come out of Manhattan getting his hands on the cube. Would he be strong enough to steal it back from the Yinyang Khan?

    Yuan banished these thoughts from his mind. Nothing would come out of involving himself in high-level cultivators¡¯ affairs.

    ¡°Sutras come in multiple forms,¡± Orient explained after unfurling the document. Detailed drawings of hand gestures formed the bulk of its content, alongside ancient verses written in the Sanskrit language. Cultivators loved to use that one to record their important texts. ¡°This scroll covers complex talisman scripts alongside mantras and mudra combinations.¡±

    Yuan quickly recalled the words. ¡°Mantras are sounds and mudras are gestures, right?¡±

    ¡°Indeed, Honored Guest,¡± Orient confirmed with a nod. ¡°They carry less power than more complex sutras and must be practiced in a sequence to have any effect, but they have more immediate applications than grander rituals.¡±

    Orient joined her thumbs and ring fingers, then widened her arms. Yuan immediately recognized the pose. He¡¯d seen many Stoneskin Sect cultivators practice it during their meditations.

    ¡°This is the Prithvi Mudra,¡± Orient explained. ¡°It calls upon the earth to witness the user¡¯s stability. When a cultivator born under an earth zodiac sign adopts this gesture while sitting on the ground and utters the mantra , it temporarily aligns their qi to telluric forces and reinforces their posture.¡±

    To think that the Stoneskin Sect¡¯s members practiced a sutra in the open right in front of Yuan¡¯s eyes. He never understood why, since mimicking this posture never did anything for him, but now he did. Sutras required specific conditions to activate, and if that one only worked with earth-aligned cultivators, then Scraps couldn¡¯t benefit from it.

    Yuan browsed the mudras. Besides his own inability to read Sanskrit properly, he noticed a glaring issue with the poses.

    ¡°I need at least one hand to shoot.¡± Yuan could always rely on the Recoil Fist, but his Path truly shone when he used a weapon. ¡°Most of these mudras involve both of them.¡±

    ¡°Most, but not all.¡± Orient pointed at one of the drawings, which represented a hand with the index and ring fingers bent and the others straight up. ¡°The Shukatunda Mudra, for example, can increase a projectile¡¯s accuracy when included in the proper sequence. Two-handed gestures also have useful out-of-battle applications.¡±

    Holster joined her hands together. She intertwined her fingers except for the pinkies that now faced each other, and then whispered a few syllabi so low Yuan hardly caught them: .

    ¡°This is the Mahamayuri Mudra, which cleanses the user of poison and toxins,¡± Orient said with a sorrowful look. ¡°Miss Holster thought it would lift her curse, but alas, the sutra had no effect on her condition.¡±

    Yuan shifted uncomfortably. ¡°About that¡­ A man from the Flesh Mansion Sect approached me earlier.¡±

    Holster froze in fear like a deer caught by a wolf-spirit. Her skin paled until it gained the color of bone.

    ¡°I¡¯m not returning you to them,¡± Yuan immediately reassured. ¡°But that man said he could cure you if I did his bidding. There¡¯s still time to make a decision¨C¡±

    Holster shook her head so fast and so abruptly Yuan feared she would snap her own neck. She grabbed his shirt, imploring him in silence with eyes full of abject terror.

    ¡°Miss Holster, please calm down¡­¡± Orient awkwardly put her hands on Holster¡¯s shoulders to reassure her, though she clung too tightly to Yuan to let him go. ¡°The Flesh Mansion Sect is far away. You are safe with us.¡±

    Holster buried her face against Yuan¡¯s shirt and gripped his clothes with all her strength. Orient whispered kind words in her ear and then looked at Yuan with a firm face. ¡°Miss Holster has no wish of encountering the Flesh Mansion Sect again.¡±

    He could have guessed that on his own.

    ¡°We¡¯ll find another way then.¡± Yuan couldn¡¯t blame Holster for reacting this way. He didn¡¯t know much about the Hitobashira procedure, but it was probably quite painful. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Holster. They¡¯ll touch you again.¡±

    His words reassured Holster a little, but she didn¡¯t let go of his shirt. Yuan ended up spending most of the evening sitting in the last car with her until she fell asleep, while Orient helped him review a series of mantras and mudras.

    ¡°Tripataka, Shukatunda, Trishula,¡± Yuan muttered to himself as he practiced the hand signs. Joining his fingers and uttering the words quickly enough proved more difficult than he expected. ¡°Archer¡¯s Glory.¡±

    ¡°You are making good progress, Honored Guest Yuan,¡± Orient complimented him. ¡°This sutra will greatly increase your next projectile¡¯s accuracy and ensure that it hits its target.¡±

    ¡°If I live long enough to finish it,¡± Yuan replied gruffly. Every breath mattered in battle. He would waste precious time and energy if he couldn¡¯t complete the combination quickly enough.

    ¡°I am certain you will master these sutras with practice,¡± Orient encouraged him. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t say so much, but Miss Holster hasn¡¯t been slacking either. She¡¯s working very hard on a gift for you.¡±

    Yuan blinked. ¡°A gift?¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t say more,¡± Orient said before patting the sleeping Holster on the head. ¡°She cares for you very much.¡±

    Yuan didn¡¯t know what to say. The only people who gave him gifts were his old teammates. The idea of receiving one from Holster filled him with sheepish embarrassment. He didn¡¯t think he would inspire such gratitude from her.

    Yuan listened to Holster snoring on his lap. So young and fragile.

    Orient suddenly straightened up. Her serene smile twisted into a strange expression, with her eyes brightening like headlights and her breath turning to steam. As for her hands, they contorted and tensed into fists.

    Yuan squinted in confusion. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°We are approaching our destination.¡± Yuan finally recognized the expression: a pale imitation of . ¡°I sense an Authority coming from it.¡±

    Yuan stared at Orient in disbelief for a moment. ¡°You¡¯re kidding.¡±

    ¡°I am not, Honored Guest Yuan.¡± Orient raised her head, as if to listen to invisible forces Yuan couldn¡¯t perceive. ¡°It clogs the leyline like a quagmire of lead and gunpowder. I thought this Ammobog suffered from a lingering curse, but its boundaries¡­ this is a true imaginary space.¡±

    Orient to be mistaken. It had to be a patch of corrupted Thunderlands or a Screen City, or any other supernatural phenomenon plaguing the Unmade World. If it was an Authority¡­

    Yuan recalled a lesson which a Stoneskin Elder once gave to his arrogant young student.

    It was so difficult, in fact, that the Fifth Coil was widely considered the gulf that separated the great from the . No Elder in the Stoneskin Sect ever achieved it. One came close, only to accidentally rupture their own core and kill themselves.

    Worse, every Authority technique was unique to each user, since it represented both their chosen Path and true self. Yuan had heard cultivators theorize that a Wayfinder¡¯s cosmic influence was simply the result of their Authority becoming part of the universe¡¯s natural laws.

    The Ammobog wasn¡¯t merely a place; it was the physical expression of someone¡¯s soul. A Gunsoul¡¯s core overwriting the universe.

    Two key details bothered Yuan. First of all, an Authority demanded immense reserves of qi and concentration to sustain, since the world actively fought to return to its original state. The longest recorded duration was four hours, and the Ammobog existed for according to Bucket.

    Even if the Gunsoul buried in the Ammobog was a legend among legends, their core shouldn¡¯t have been able to sustain it for so long.

    And second¡­

    ¡°Can a ghost use an Authority, Orient?¡± Yuan asked.

    ¡°No,¡± Orient replied with unease. ¡°No, they cannot.¡±

    Bucket told him that the Ammobog was the burial site of a dead Gunsoul¡¯s bullet core; yet Revolver said that they could survive anything so long as said core remained intact.

    Yuan thought, his arms crossed.

 Chapter 24: The Ammobog

    They reached the Ammobog by dawn.As Bucket promised, the bog grew inside a small, sunken valley west of Fleshmarket. The spirit-train stopped on the buried remnants of a ruined station whose elevated position spared it from the dead white sea¡¯s expansion. Yuan only had to look out the window to take a look at their destination below.

    The area was everything Bucket promised: a ten-kilometers wide marsh of smoke and metal. Lead-soaked soil housed sprouting casings that bloomed into bullets under the shadow of hollow iron trees with barrels for branches. Streams of liquid gunpowder winded between the barrel trees, their surfaces gleaming with flecks of metal, and the slightest spark would ignite them into a fiery detonation. Yuan could smell their acridness from here.

    A thick fog of gunsmoke hung over the area, so Yuan couldn¡¯t see its center clearly. The frontiers were clearly demarcated though. The Ammobog formed a perfect circle surrounded by both rocks and the dead white sea, and the frontier was too sharp to be natural.

    Yuan had never seen an Authority, but closing his eyes and focusing on the land¡¯s qi told him much. The Ammobog radiated power like a furnace, to the point Yuan couldn¡¯t sense anything inside it. It was like standing next to an iron sun. If living creatures existed inside it, he couldn¡¯t detect them.

    Yuan guessed. Revolver¡¯s aura radiated fire, but this place had another elemental affinity.

    Observing Revolver¡¯s qi already floored Yuan in the past, but whoever created the Ammobog was in a different league entirely. It was almost oppressive. The absence of any Sect outposts worried him too. Many cultivators wouldn¡¯t think twice about sending Scraps into death¡¯s jaws to forage for resources. The Ammobog wasn¡¯t too far from Fleshmarket, so it should be easy to organize harvest runs.

    If neither the Metallists nor the Flesh Mansion Sect bothered with this place, then it was probably more trouble than it was worth.

    ¡°That¡¯s the Ammobog all right, sir!¡± Bucket said with enthusiasm. He and his fellow Gun cultists were already unloading crates to stuff bullets in. ¡°We¡¯ll just have to bend over to reap the ammo harvest!¡±

    ¡°If it was so easy, more people would frequent this place,¡± Yuan replied gruffly. ¡°You said the Gunsoul¡¯s ¡®ghost¡¯ attacks intruders? How?¡±

    ¡°Mostly she just shoots visitors,¡± Bucket explained, almost cheerfully. ¡°Sometimes she doesn¡¯t, but her voice warns you to turn back before she changes her mind.¡±

    Yuan glanced at Orient and Holster, both of whom stared at the Ammobog in equal uneasiness. Unlike Bucket¡¯s band, they could sense the oppressive power radiating from this cursed land. S?a?ch* Th? ??v?lF?re.?et website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡°There is still time to turn back, Honored Guest Yuan,¡± Orient warned him.

    ¡°It would bother me to leave empty-handed,¡± Yuan confessed. ¡°What are our other options?¡±

    ¡°We could continue westward to Battletown,¡± Orient suggested. ¡°However, this Authority clogs the main leyline to sustain itself. It would force me to take a large detour to bypass it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not ready to confront Slash yet.¡± Yuan would have preferred to get his hands on a pill and cross the Third Coil first. ¡°And I¡¯ll have to pick a side if we return to Fleshmarket.¡±

    ¡°Fear not, sir!¡± Bucket encouraged him. ¡°I¡¯m sure the ghost of Ammobog will welcome a fellow Gunsoul with open firearms!¡±

    At least one of them showed enthusiasm. Yuan sensed Holster tugging at his pants in an attempt to grab his attention. His charge pointed at the Ammobog.

    ¡°Wait, do you me to go there?¡± Yuan asked. His scowl only deepened when Holster nodded back, albeit hesitantly. ¡°Did you sense anything?¡±

    Holster bit her lower lips, then looked at Orient.

    ¡°Sorrow,¡± the caretaker translated. ¡°Miss Holster says her soul is broken.¡±

    ¡°Her? The Gunsoul?¡± Yuan raised an eyebrow. ¡°Broken how?¡±

    Holster made a series of mudra signs, half of which Yuan did not recognize. ¡°Egg?¡± he said, trying to translate the symbols. ¡°A cracked cosmic egg?¡±

    ¡°A cracked core,¡± Orient translated. ¡°Miss Holster believes that this Gunsoul¡¯s core is broken somehow.¡±

    A broken core? Was that even possible? The only way Yuan knew to lose one was to either break an Unspeakable Oath or undergo a Human Pillar procedure, both of which prevented the user from using techniques at all; let alone an Authority.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    Yuan decided to investigate after a moment¡¯s consideration. The Ammobog was certainly dangerous, but he was curious about its creator. Learning what happened to her may give him more insight into his own condition.

    ¡°I''ll go with Bucket and the others,¡± he told Orient and Holster. ¡°The two of you stay here. If we haven¡¯t returned by sunset¡­¡± Yuan marked a short pause. ¡°Leave for a safer place.¡±

    While Holster paled in concern, Orient proved far less sentimental. ¡°Understood,¡± she replied with professionalism. ¡°I shall take care of Miss Holster should the worst come to pass.¡±

    ¡°I swear I¡¯ll be back shortly,¡± Yuan promised Holster. She seemed to hesitate to follow him for a brief instant until he patted her on the shoulder. ¡°Be a good girl and keep your iron close, understand?¡±

    Holster bit her lip before nodding obediently. Leaving in Orient''s care, Yuan escorted Bucket and the others down a trail and closer to the Ammobog. He took both the Saint Heckler and Kalash Angel with him, keeping the former holstered at his side and the latter strapped to his back with a leather belt.

    Yuan would have loved to test these weapons and check how his Gunsoul powers synergized with them, but alas, the ammo shortage would make it a waste of good bullets for the time being. The Kalash only had thirty rounds in its magazine and the Saint Heckler forty. Each shot counted.

    ¡°He¡¯s the Gun, dark and dire; quick to anger, indiscriminate fire!¡± Bucket sang to himself. ¡°In his sight, everyone''s the same; at the barrel¡¯s end, each life a fleeting frame!¡±

    Soon the cultists joined him in some sort of Gun-worshiping folk song. Yuan ignored them and continued to walk in utter silence.

    ¡°A soul for a bullet, his immortal fame; the Gun will never die, his boastful claim!¡± sang the bullet brothers. ¡°He''ll dance the lead dance, till no one can pull the trigger! Leaving ruins and whispers, his hopes ever grimmer!¡±

    If the spirit-train¡¯s arrival didn¡¯t alert the local Gunsoul of their presence, their off-key singing probably did the trick.

    The group soon reached the frontier of the Ammobog. White flowers bloomed on one side of a curved line, and bullet seeds grew in lead-rich soil on the other. Yuan scanned the area in search of the Gunsoul ¡®ghost.¡¯ He couldn¡¯t see much through the gunsmoke fog and the barrel trees.

    ¡°Is someone there?!¡± Yuan called out to the marsh. ¡°I am Yuan Guang, a Gunsoul like you! I¡¯ve come to talk!¡±

    Only the sound of the wind whistling through the barrel-trees answered him, its song resembling the echo of gunfire. The group waited a moment before Yuan cautiously stepped through the Ammobog¡¯s frontier. He expected a shift across reality, like the kind he experienced when crossing into the Thunderlands.

    Entering the Ammobog proved a very different experience. Yuan sensed a veil separating it from the rest of the world, but it was weak, diffuse, disorganized. It felt like entering a pocket of hot air, noticeable yet far from disorienting. Whatever force maintained the front between this Authority and the rest of the universe failed to properly secure its border.

    However, Yuan immediately detected a diffuse, feminine presence around him. The Thunderlands had been chaos incarnate, a boiling cauldron of qi and sorcery without reason or purpose. The rad-hag was born to serve as its incarnation rather than its ruler. The Ammobog was the complete opposite: a single will controlled every inch of its territory, holding claim to its land and air. This was a place of order, and the cultivator controlling it immediately detected any intruder that did not belong here.

    Yuan¡¯s grip on his submachine gun tightened. He waited either for an attack or an invitation, receiving neither.

    The cultists behind him exchanged glances.

    ¡°May the faithful step forward!¡± Bucket shouted. He walked towards the frontier, only for another cultist to quickly beat him to it in an attempt to prove his dedication.

    A bullet struck the man in the forehead, blowing his brains out and killing him the second he crossed the frontier.

    The cultists let out shouts of surprise, but Yuan had already drawn his submachine gun before the cultist¡¯s corpse hit the ground.

    ¡°Behind me!¡± He ordered the others, but Bucket disobeyed him. The man attempted to grab his fellow worshiper¡¯s body and drag him out of the Ammobog, only to suffer a headshot of his own the moment he crossed the veil between worlds. The round hit his helmet with such strength that it propelled Bucket backward into a bed of white flowers.

    Yuan aimed at the attack¡¯s source and saw nothing beyond the thick gray fog. He immediately retreated outside the veil and quickly checked the wounded. To his surprise, Bucket quickly rose back up. His sturdy helmet had blocked the round right above the eyeholes, saving his life.

    ¡°Praise the Gun, bullet-brother!¡± Bucket prayed with his arms wide open. Yuan had never seen someone so happy to be shot in the head. ¡°I have been spared once more!¡±

    Yuan thought grimly after checking the other cultist. Unlike Bucket, that one had lost a third of his skull and brain matter.

    ¡°Sniper rounds,¡± Yuan noted after checking the ammunition and the corpse¡¯s head wound. Which meant the shooter could have struck from a mile away. That or it could have been one of the trees. Yuan knew better than to expect logic from the physical representation of someone¡¯s soul. ¡°Those were warning shots.¡±

    He had seen Revolver blow up dunes by charging his bullets with qi. A stronger cultivator could have decimated the entire group with a single round had they decided to. Moreover, only the cultists were shot at.

    Yuan cautiously stepped over the veil once more to test his theory. No sniper struck him this time either.

    He alone was invited.

    Yuan leaned on and picked a bullet seed from the ground. He immediately recognized the smooth shape of a .22LR cartridge. He tossed it outside the Ammobog and received no punishment for it.

    ¡°Bless our lost brother!¡± Bucket prayed over his fellow cultist¡¯s corpse. ¡°His soul shall feast in the shooting grounds of Bullet Hell!¡±

    Yuan considered his options. Bucket had guessed correctly: he could easily complete his job by picking up rounds like a farmer with his crops and then handing them over to the cultists. The local Gunsoul seemed to suffer his presence on her territory.

    Nonetheless, it would be quite improper to forage on someone¡¯s lands without paying them homage. The Gunsoul¡¯s tolerance might only extend so far.

    ¡°Give him the last rites sutra and return to the spirit-train,¡± Yuan ordered Bucket and the others as he moved the dead cultist body over to them. ¡°I¡¯ll talk to her alone.¡±

 Chapter 25: The Rifle Woman

    Yuan fog.Every gunslinger heavily relied on their sharp eyes, and their hearing to a lesser degree. A dense mist reduced both. Thick gunsmoke prevented Yuan from seeing further than his submachine gun¡¯s tip and muffled all noise around him. It was a miracle he could breathe at all. A Scrap would have asphyxiated thrice over by now, but the acrid fumes didn¡¯t bother Yuan¡¯s lungs in the slightest. His Gunsoul nature likely spared him from it.

    Trying to see the path ahead with his qi sense yielded no result either. The Ammobog¡¯s energies clouded his sight. Someone could have stood behind him with a gun barrel pressed against his skull and he wouldn¡¯t have been able to tell.

    Other people had died in this mist too. He had encountered four corpses on his way across the bog, their bones buried in liquid gunpowder cesspools and under cartridge hills. All their skulls bore signs of headshots.

    Fog made Yuan feel . .

    Nonetheless, he had no issues finding his way through it. A clear trail paved with iron plating crossed the Ammobog. The gunsmoke grew thinner around it too. The further he advanced, the more Yuan grew convinced that the Ammobog¡¯s mistress was guiding him to her dominion. S?a??h the N?velF?re.?et website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    To his relief, the fog slowly began to clear. Yuan found himself ascending a hill covered in a thin brass sheen and thorny bushes growing shrapnel shrubs instead of flowers. The floor made a crunching sound when Yuan¡¯s feet stepped on it. Clusters of cartridges formed parodies of rock formations.

    A monstrous gun¡¯s muzzle rose at the hill¡¯s peak and vomited liquid gunpowder onto its steel slope. Any spark should have blown the place up to kingdom come, but a makeshift forge and its roaring fire stood in its shadow nonetheless.

    The Ammobog¡¯s mistress worked there, pouring a small pot of molten lead into a bullet mold.

    Yuan wasn¡¯t sure what he had expected to see. A living gun? A demon queen who had cast away her humanity in search of greater strength? A beauty that defied description? When compared to Manhattan and Revolver, the woman in front of him appeared strangely human in comparison.

    She did look however. Her long, fiery hair bore the crimson shade of blood. A dark blindfold covered her eyes and left only her scowling mouth visible. A wide-brimmed black hat adorned with raven feathers cast her face in obscurity, and a tattered burgundy cloak billowed over a practical attire of iron plates, reinforced leather, and sturdy boots. She wore a belt laden with ammunition strapped to her waist alongside a small, archaic rifle that belonged in an old world shrine rather than on the battlefield. Her right arm hid under her cloak, while her left hand held on to a scorchingly hot pot filled with molten lead. The terrible heat didn¡¯t seem to bother her, nor did she use tongs to manipulate her tools.

    That woman didn¡¯t carry the same aura of overwhelming menace as Manhattan before her, but Yuan¡¯s bullet-core began to pulse the moment he laid eyes on her. She radiated a strange kind of serene grace and poise, and the air distorted around her person. Space itself seemed to twist in small and nearly imperceptible ways when she moved her head.

    She kept her back turned to Yuan, though he sensed her attention on him. She didn¡¯t need eyes to see him. When she moved from one side of her workbench to the other to inspect her cooling molds, her feet left traces of gunpowder and carried the sharp clink of bullets hitting a concrete floor.

    ¡°If you have come for my core, Gunsoul, then heed my words,¡± the woman spoke with a voice that reminded Yuan of a bullet¡¯s whistle, soft yet deadly. ¡°I am Arc, the Rifle Woman.¡±

    She pried a mold open with her left hand and picked up a bullet. Glowing sutras were carved on its surface and shone with power.

    ¡°And I¡¯ve been defeated.¡±

    It was a tall claim to make but¡­ The arrogant cultivators who pretended as much always betrayed a hint of insecurity in their voice, but Yuan didn¡¯t detect any from this woman¡¯s words. That was a , not a .

    This woman had slain and crushed all challengers she ever faced.

    Yuan pondered his answer. Between the warning shots, the lack of hostility coming from her, and the fact that she hadn¡¯t blown his head off yet, he assumed that she wouldn¡¯t attack unless he struck first. The gulf in power between them was unfathomable, but she lacked Manhattan¡¯s obvious malevolence.

    ¡°I thought you were a ghost,¡± Yuan confessed.

    ¡°Is that what those Bullet Church fools told you?¡± Arc began to trim the excess lead from the bullet with her nails. They cut through the metal as easily as knives through flesh. ¡°They know nothing of the curse they cravenly revere. They would be wise to find a better god.¡±

    ¡°Is that why you let me come here?¡± Yuan asked. He noted that she called the Gun and Gunsouls a curse. Quite the strange statement to make for someone so far ahead in their shared Path. ¡°So I would tell them to fuck off?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± she replied bluntly.

    Yuan didn¡¯t mind carrying that message, but he considered himself enough of a professional not to leave empty-handed.

    ¡°We came to pick ammo,¡± he said. ¡°There¡¯s going to be a Sect war in Fleshmarket. We want to supply both sides so they wipe out each other.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t give a fuck.¡± Arc examined the finished bullet. Did she have eyes underneath her blindfold, or was she simply going through the motions? ¡°Tell those idiots to leave by sunset, then never return. Anyone who stays any longer will die. I¡¯m sick of foragers.¡±

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    Yuan wished Mingxia was with him. She would know how to smooth things over. ¡°Won¡¯t you at least tell me why?¡±

    ¡°Because I don¡¯t like any of you.¡±

    ¡°Not the ammo thing.¡± Yuan crossed his arms and tried to pick the best words possible. ¡°Why are you ? Why languish in this place for years?¡±

    Arc didn¡¯t answer him immediately. Yuan wasn¡¯t an expert at reading body language, but she seemed surprised by the question. Few must have asked it.

    ¡°I¡¯m waiting,¡± she finally said.

    ¡°For what?¡±

    ¡°For the Gun.¡±

    ¡°Is that what that bullet is for?¡± Yuan guessed. ¡°To kill the Gun once he comes for you?¡±

    ¡°Even if you kill the Gun, you will never kill the Gun.¡± Arc tossed her forged bullet aside. It looked like a waste of lead to Yuan, but he supposed it wasn¡¯t the perfect projectile she hoped for. ¡°If you¡¯re ever in a position to kill it, stay your hand. It¡¯ll spare you a special kind of hell.¡±

    Yuan flinched. ¡°What kind?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to find out.¡±

    Why were all high-level cultivators so goddamn cryptic and evasive? ¡°I to find out.¡±

    ¡°You ,¡± Arc replied firmly. ¡°Bury your gun and spend the rest of your half-life in peace. Open a shop, plant crops, find a wife or a boytoy, whatever suits you.¡±

    Yuan pointed at her rifle. ¡°You haven¡¯t buried your gun.¡±

    ¡°I guess that means I¡¯ll die a fool. .¡± Arc waved her hand at the workbench. The gunsmoke cloud around them condensed into a pot and magically turned into lead. ¡°Ask me what¡¯s on your mind or fuck off.¡±

    Instead of answering immediately, Yuan first picked up the bullet she discarded. The projectile had cooled off considerably, but still remained warm. Sanskrit scripts covered every inch of its shell and burned with qi. This simple bullet packed nearly as much power as a lower cultivator¡¯s core. A rifle firing it would likely inflict more damage than a rocket launcher.

    This person was a master of the Path of the Gun.

    ¡°Teach me,¡± Yuan asked, politely, but firmly.

    She didn¡¯t even consider it. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°What do you have to lose?¡± Yuan insisted. ¡°If you¡¯re waiting to die either way¡­¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll use the techniques I teach you to kill,¡± Arc stated. ¡°We all rise to avenge a wrong done to us.¡±

    Yuan scoffed. ¡°The world would be better with less marauders and slavers in it.¡±

    Arc finally deigned to face him. Now that he took a good look at her face, Yuan noticed black burn marks under the blindfold. ¡°You don¡¯t get it, do you?¡±

    Yuan scowled. ¡°Get ?¡±

    ¡°That cycle of bloodshed, that¡¯s how the Gun feeds. It plays both sides to keep the war going.¡± Arc sat on her workbench, a scowl forming on her face. ¡°Kill the men who killed you, and you¡¯ll find that one of them rises up from the dead with a bullet for a heart, or it¡¯ll be one of their loved ones seeking payback. Then they¡¯ll go after the people you care about, and the death spiral will repeat again and again. It happened to , and it¡¯ll happen to .¡±

    So what, Yuan should let Slash and his cronies off the hook for murdering his friends? The mere thought of Jaw-Long and Mingxia being tossed into a ditch, their unjust death forgotten, filled him with anger.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take that bet,¡± he said.

    ¡°Your loss.¡± Arc shrugged. ¡°Another came before you for the same reason, a cyborg. He tried to kill me for my bullet-core when I denied him, and bitterly regretted it. I told him to abandon the Path of the Gun if he could and sent him packing.¡±

    Yuan picked up on the veiled threat, but he didn¡¯t give up. He had a chance in a lifetime to learn from a true master of the Gun and couldn¡¯t let it pass. Even scraps of information would teach him much.

    What would Mingxia do in his place? She had a motto whenever negotiations stalled: Easy words to say, and difficult ones to apply in this case. What could Yuan offer to a high-level cultivator? He had no priceless artifact to trade away, nor the kind of talent that would interest a teacher eager to pass on their legacy.

    All he had was information.

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard your core is broken,¡± Yuan said. ¡°Is it true?¡±

    Arc studied him for a moment before answering. ¡°I do not control my Authority anymore. What you see isn¡¯t Headshot Forge¡¯s natural state.¡±

    ¡°Headshot Forge?¡± Yuan couldn¡¯t help but chuckle in amusement, even after encountering gruesome sights like dead bodies buried in gunpowder. ¡°People call it the Ammobog.¡±

    ¡°Good for them, they¡¯re wrong,¡± Arc replied with a snort. ¡°Years ago, I fought a death-worshiping cultivator with way too much power. I defeated him, but he destroyed my body and damaged my soul on his way to the Nowhere.¡±

    ¡°Damaged your soul?¡± The very concept frightened Yuan. Everyone knew that a spirit survived the body¡¯s death and moved on to reincarnate. The dying took comfort in the fact that their immortal essence would survive for a new round at life. ¡°How?¡±

    ¡°He had an Authority of his own.¡± Arc waved her hand at the gunsmoke fog and muzzle mountain. ¡°Authorities are physical manifestations of a cultivator¡¯s core and will in the physical world. What do you think happens when two of them manifest in the same spot?¡±

    Yuan¡¯s jaw clenched on its own. ¡°They clash and take damage.¡±

    ¡°They do,¡± Arc confirmed. ¡°My squire, who knew nothing of our immortality, planted my bullet-core in this land. My flesh grew back and healed; my bullet-core did not. Authorities have restrained, closed boundaries to maximize their potency. Mine has open borders. I can¡¯t stop my qi from leaking out.¡±

    Yuan thought. He suspected entering a normal Authority would have been akin to crossing a patch of Thunderlands. Arc¡¯s own spread widely until it thinned out, like a puddle of water.

    ¡°You use feng shui to tap upon the local leyline and stabilize your Authority,¡± Yuan guessed.

    Arc nodded slowly. ¡°If I don¡¯t, I leak qi until I lose consciousness and reactivate my Authority as soon as I wake up. Headshot Forge automatically attacks anyone caught in the premises unless I focus on sparing them, so I¡¯m a miles-wide unnatural disaster. It¡¯s even worse with Scraps like those Bullet Church fools. Since they don¡¯t have a strong qi signature to latch on, I can¡¯t react to their presence before my Authority kills them.¡±

    A chill traveled down Yuan¡¯s spine as he put two and two together. The corpses he found on his way to Arc died far too close to her location, while her power killed a cultist the moment he crossed into her territory. In all likelihood, they simply had the misfortune of being within range of her malfunctioning Authority when it first activated.

    ¡°My options were to kill myself, become a mobile disaster, or stay put. I chose the last one.¡± Arc lost interest, grabbed her molten lead cup, and began to pour it into the mold she used earlier. ¡°T¡¯was nice speaking to another Gunsoul, but I¡¯m tired of it.¡±

    ¡°I could help,¡± Yuan suggested. Orient and Holster might have ideas on how to proceed. ¡°If a core can be cracked, then it should be repairable.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve tried everything,¡± Arc replied with fatalism.

    ¡°What do you have to lose from letting us try then?¡±

    ¡°Time,¡± Arc shot back. ¡°You¡¯re wasting mine right now.¡±

    Though it annoyed Yuan, he could understand why she would react with skepticism. He was a newborn Gunsoul who barely crossed the Second Coil. If a master cultivator failed to find a cure after years of meditation, what hope did he have?

    ¡°I think I¡¯ve encountered a nuclear cultivator in Fleshmarket,¡± Yuan said.

    Arc crushed the cup within her palm.

    Molten lead splashed over her fingers and shrapnel flew without damaging her skin. The metal dripped to the brass ground with a metallic clink. Arc looked at him for a moment, digesting Yuan¡¯s words, before answering.

    ¡°I¡¯m listening,¡± she said.

 Chapter 26: Oath of the Barrel

    The longer Arc listened, the deeper her scowl grew. By the time Yuan finished his tale, she asked him to draw a sketch of Manhattan¡¯s chest symbol. He did so by grabbing a bullet and using it to shape a pile of gunpowder with it.

    ¡°That¡¯s the Nuclear Path symbol, all right,¡± Arc said with a grunt. ¡°Those atom smashers love it to death. Wished I would never see it again.¡±

    As Yuan feared. ¡°Any idea what this Cube of Natho could be?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know anything about a cube.¡± Arc¡¯s jaw tightened, her teeth clicking like a rifle ready to shoot. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of Natho though. T¡¯was a Lost Age military alliance that ruled the west ¡®till the Sky-Biter ate half their nations. They fielded weapons that could destroy entire cities during their heyday.¡±

    ¡°You think the cube could be one of them?¡±

    ¡°Probably.¡± Arc¡¯s scowl darkened even further. ¡°You don¡¯t know Nuclear Path cultivators like I do. Every last one of them has a fetish for death and destruction. Nihility beckons wherever they go.¡±

    Yuan studied her for a moment. ¡°They killed you the first time, didn¡¯t they?¡±

    She didn¡¯t bother answering him.

    Yuan wasn¡¯t certain how to react to this information. The idea of a Nuclear Path cultivator getting his claws on a Lost Age weapon disturbed him as much as it flew above his head. He had stepped into a situation above his pay grade.

    Nonetheless, the information did give Arc more pause than anything else. She sat by her workbench for a moment while thoughtfully stroking her chin.

    ¡°Could it be related to Czar Zoa?¡± she mumbled to herself. ¡°High-level cultivators don¡¯t grow on trees¡­ a disciple maybe¡­¡±

    Yuan could sense her studying him, even without her having eyes to see. He kept his mouth shut. His gut told him she was pondering a very important decision.

    ¡°Okay,¡± Arc finally said, with a single finger raised. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll train you on one condition.¡±

    Yuan tried to contain his excitement. A cultivator of this woman¡¯s caliber wouldn¡¯t share her knowledge without exacting a price. ¡°And that is?¡±

    ¡°You must form an Unspeakable Vow with me,¡± Arc declared. Yuan could almost taste the venom in her next words. ¡°You will swear to destroy this ¡®Manhattan,¡¯ any students he might have taken up, and do everything in your power to ruin his plans, whatever they are.¡±

    Yuan immediately shot her proposition down. ¡°I¡¯m near strong enough to pull that off. I wish I was, but that¡¯s beyond me for now.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to put a time limit in the oath. I don¡¯t care if it takes you years or decades to reach his level just so long as you keep working to that end.¡± Arc issued a warning. ¡°But if you pass over a reasonable opportunity to destroy that monster or abandon this goal, the oath will destroy your core. I won¡¯t budge on this.¡±

    Yuan winced as he figured out the oath¡¯s full and deadly consequences. ¡°My bullet-core keeps me alive. If breaking the Unspeakable Vow destroys it¨C¡±

    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯ll die.¡± Arc shrugged her shoulders. ¡°Those are my conditions. Take it or leave it.¡±

    Yuan crossed his arms. His first instinct was to say , then .

    Manhattan wasn¡¯t Slash; Yuan had no score to settle with him, nor anything to gain from taking on such a dangerous and powerful cultivator, even with a generous time limit. The fact he would die should he fail to fulfill the contract only made it .

    However¡­ However, this woman was a Gunsoul. One of the greatest warriors of the Unmade World, who fought a foe capable of wiping out cities on his own and him. Yuan knew many cultivators would have killed their own parents for an apprenticeship under such a prestigious teacher, not to mention that she followed the same Path he did. What were the odds that he would find another Gunsoul of her caliber willing to teach him? Even Revolver had yet to cross the Fifth Coil.

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    Yuan had to think this through carefully. It was literally a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

    ¡°You know I¡¯ll use those techniques you teach me to take revenge on my murderers,¡± Yuan said. ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t want me to kill?¡±

    ¡°Any graves you¡¯ll fill will be a fraction of the death that Manhattan will sow in his wake, and you wouldn¡¯t agree to a Vow that prevented you from killing or defending yourself.¡± Arc snorted. ¡°Don¡¯t take it the wrong way. If I could hunt down this Manhattan myself, I would. You¡¯re just a sniper¡¯s bullet that I¡¯m firing at him. Nothing more.¡±

    Yuan could live with that, but another part of the oath bothered him. ¡°What if I encounter a well-meaning Nuclear Path cultivator?¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t, because they don¡¯t exist. Nuclear Path cultivators are like us Gunsouls: ghosts given a half-life by a curse greater than them, except their patron isn¡¯t satisfied with petty revenge and shootouts.¡± Arc spat at the ground, her saliva turning into liquid gunpowder. ¡°To join the Nuclear Path is to become death, the destroyer of worlds.¡±

    Yuan squinted. He thought the Gun was one of a kind, yet here that woman suggested other demigods of violence haunted the Unmade World? Whatever the case, she spoke with such loathing and confidence that he leaned on believing her. Manhattan clearly radiated malevolence and Czar Zoa destroyed a whole city. Neither gave him a good impression of their chosen Path.

    ¡°You¡¯ll teach me ?¡± Yuan asked. ¡°Even how to create an Authority?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± she replied flatly. ¡°I can¡¯t guarantee you¡¯ll have the talent and discipline to pull it off, but I¡¯ll teach you the process to create your own Authority.¡±

    When she put it that way¡­ Yuan couldn¡¯t imagine any Sect Elder agreeing to teach that secret to an outsider. He was years and many Coils away from using an Authority, but the mere promise of learning how to use one tempted him greatly.

    He had to check if she was trying to hoodwink him.

    ¡°I¡¯ll need access to your ammo stash too,¡± Yuan said. ¡°I¡¯ve signed a contract with the people waiting outside your Authority. It¡¯s not an Unspeakable Vow, but a deal is a deal.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to fulfill it by yourself,¡± she replied, immediately shooting down the proposal. ¡°What I can do is teach you how to make your own bullets. Then can solve the ammo shortage and shoulder the burden of responsibility, if you can carry it.¡±

    She was putting her foot down on a few details, so she wasn¡¯t promising him the moon either. Her proposal was a serious one. If Yuan followed her teachings, gaining a qi pill to reach the Third Coil would be within his reach; Slash¡¯s death too.

    ¡°Fine,¡± Yuan decided after a moment¡¯s consideration. He would never receive another offer like this one. ¡°I accept your terms.¡±

    ¡°Then put your hand on your bullet-core.¡±

    Yuan obeyed the order and waited. Arc waited a moment, then grabbed her cloak and unveiled her right arm.

    Yuan blinked in shock at what he saw. Arc¡¯s silver bullet-core pulsated on her right breast, tendrils of lead sprouting out of it like a tree¡¯s roots. It had done more than weave itself into her flesh; it it. A twisted mass of barrels and cylinders replaced her right shoulder and arm, with a sniper rifle sprouting out of what used to be her hand.

    She looked .

    ¡°I warned you to abandon the Path of the Gun,¡± Arc said, her left hand touching her bullet-core. ¡°You can still back down.¡±

    Yuan hardened his resolve. He didn¡¯t care how he looked so long as he became strong enough to get his revenge. ¡°Humanity is overrated.¡±

    ¡°Your loss,¡± Arc muttered words under her breath, then uttered her oath out loud. ¡°I vow on my core to teach you everything I know, so long as you swear never to be a friend to the Nuclear Path cultivators. Swear to defeat this Manhattan, whatever his true name may be, and those who follow his Path. Swear to oppose his plans whenever possible. Swear to destroy him, even if it takes you centuries. Do so, and I swear to make you my disciple. I swear to teach you all that I know about cultivation.¡±

    ¡°I vow on my core to never be a friend to a Nuclear Path cultivator,¡± Yuan repeated, though he slightly amended the rest of the oath. ¡°I will defeat Manhattan and those who follow his Path once I wield the power to do so. I shall oppose their plans whenever possible or reasonable. I swear I will destroy him in time.¡± S?a?ch* Th? ?ov?l?ir?.n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    He immediately sensed an invisible grip close on his bullet-core; a force emanating from the Dao itself took heed of his words and fashioned a chain with them. A faint pressure began to weigh on his very soul, subtle and hardly noticeable. It remained with him after he completed his oath, ensuring he wouldn¡¯t forget his promise.

    The Unspeakable Vow would follow him to its fulfillment. He couldn¡¯t back down anymore.

    ¡°You¡¯re either a fool or quite determined,¡± Arc commented as she covered her right arm with her cloak again. ¡°Whatever. A vow is a vow, so I¡¯ll teach you everything I know.¡±

    Yuan nodded sharply. ¡°I am ready to learn.¡±

    ¡°Then show me your weapons.¡±

    Yuan presented her with the Saint Heckler and the Kalash Angel. Arc snatched them out of his hands one after another, then put them on the nearby workbench with clear displeasure.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got the wrong mindset, the Scrap mindset,¡± she scolded him. ¡°These firearms are , not . They can help now and then, but if you start relying on them, then they¡¯ll become crutches you can¡¯t win without. You must first learn to rely on your own aptitude before you start supplementing them with weaponry.¡±

    Yuan listened in dutiful silence, the same way he¡¯d seen cultivator students shut up whenever their Elders spoke. He suddenly noticed a tiny, yet very telling detail.

    Arc hadn¡¯t asked him his name.

    She didn¡¯t think he would survive long enough for her to bother learning it. He was a stray bullet shot in a random direction, with no expectation of hitting the correct target.

    Yuan was determined to prove her wrong.

 Chapter 27: Boundary Bullets

    ¡°Let¡¯s start with the basics,¡± Arc said as she began their first lesson. ¡°What do you know of the three pillars of cultivation?¡±An easy question. Yuan guessed she was checking on his general knowledge. ¡°Techniques, sutras, and feng shui.¡±

    ¡°All of them come into two forms: and . Innate abilities are exclusive to a Path because they require a specific soul or morphology to pull off. Adaptive abilities can be learned by everyone, but take different forms depending on the Path and caster.¡±

    ¡°Wait,¡± Yuan said, before catching his mistake. ¡°Ugh¡­¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t kill you for asking questions,¡± Arc said sharply. ¡°I don¡¯t care for honorifics or protocol either. I¡¯m not a Sect Elder.¡±

    This reassured Yuan. He would rather ask what was on his mind than tiptoe around his teacher¡¯s pride. ¡°I thought could use any sutras.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a common misconception,¡± Arc retorted. ¡°A sutra draws power from the Wayfinders, the Dao itself, or other forces, so Scraps can use them, yes¡­ but it doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯ll let play with their big toys. Some really powerful sutras will only trigger when used by the right person. Same with some feng shui rituals. The choice of location determines much, but some places will only answer to certain voices.¡±

    Yuan pondered that information. It lined up with what Orient taught him about the Prithvi Mudra. Only earth-aligned cultivators could wield its full potential.

    ¡°So, if I understand correctly.¡± Yuan tightened his fist and turned it into steel. ¡°Elemental Infusion is an adaptive technique, while charging bullets with qi is an innate one?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Arc replied. ¡°They¡¯re adaptive techniques.¡±

    Yuan blinked in genuine shock. He hadn¡¯t expected that answer.

    ¡°I don¡¯t get it,¡± Yuan confessed. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anyone other than a Gunsoul doing it.¡±

    ¡°Because most cultivators never bother to learn how to replicate the feat.¡± Arc shrugged her shoulders. ¡°The qi-bullet trick originates from the Gun Path and its subpaths, true, but it¡¯s not exclusive to us. Only Third Coil cultivators and beyond can learn innate abilities, because crossing the Fourth Coil involves engraving one in your body and soul to permanently dedicate yourself to a Path.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but I can charge bullets with qi because my body treat firearms as an extension of myself,¡± Yuan argued. ¡°Other cultivators can¡¯t do that.¡±

    ¡°Any Path can charge a bullet with qi to generate special effects,¡± Arc explained. ¡°They just can¡¯t do it the we do. You can charge a bullet with qi because your Path treats firearms like an extension of yourself. A Metallist cultivator could shape metal from their iron body in the form of a bullet, charge it, and then fire it.¡±

    ¡°Ah, wait, I get it.¡± Yuan snapped his fingers as he finally understood the concept. ¡°The result is the same, but they use a roundabout method to reach it.¡±

    ¡°Yup,¡± Arc confirmed. ¡°Swimming is an adaptive technique in a way. Sure a fish knows how to do it instinctively, but a human can learn how to do it with enough time and effort. You won¡¯t swim like the fish, but you¡¯ll still swim. Adaptive abilities are general skills that must be adapted to a given Path.¡±

    Yuan pondered the implications for a moment. ¡°I fought a oni cultivator in a patch of Thunderlands who had crossed the Second Coil, I think,¡± he informed his new mentor. ¡°He could generate mist and turn his body into a fog. You¡¯re saying I could create a Gun Path variant of his techniques?¡± S?a?ch* Th? N0v?lFire(.)n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡°You catch on quickly,¡± Arc confirmed. ¡°The best cultivators are those adept at understanding the foundations of cultivation arts, whether to incorporate them into their own Path or to counter them. Always keep your eyes open. The fact that your enemies walk different roads from yours doesn''t mean they have nothing to teach you.¡±

    Arc opened her palm. Yuan watched intently with his qi sight as a small rifle bullet materialized between her fingers. To his surprise, his teacher didn¡¯t draw raw material from the Authority around her; the object simply appeared to materialize from raw metal qi energies.

    ¡°This is Bullet Materialization,¡± his mentor said while playing with her new creation. ¡°Which category does it belong to?"

    Yuan sensed it was a trick question of some sort. He briefly wondered if creating bullets was exclusive to Gunsouls before remembering the Metallist example Arc gave him earlier.

    ¡°It¡¯s an adaptive technique,¡± he guessed.

    ¡°You¡¯re half-right,¡± Arc replied, which was a fancy way to say Yuan messed up. ¡°It¡¯s a feng shui spell. An adaptive one.¡±

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    ¡°Feng shui?¡± Yuan blinked as he registered that information. His experience with the discipline mostly involved manipulating leylines or directions to improve the flow of qi, and thus his attacks. Orient did show the ability to restore objects within her confines to a previous state, but even she couldn¡¯t manifest objects out of thin air.

    Moreover, feng shui relied on exploiting a location rather than the user¡¯s qi. Arc drew the energies used to fashion that bullet from the world itself rather than herself. How did she achieve this feat?

    ¡°Item Materialization is a sub-branch of the Barrier class of feng shui spells,¡± Arc explained. ¡°A Barrier is a feng shui spell that excludes something from a set territory. The first cultivators called them S¨©m¨¡bandha, Kekkai, and Forbiddances.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve encountered a few.¡± The Stoneskin Sect raised a few around their compounds to keep outsiders out of restricted areas. Yuan always pondered about their inner mechanics.

    ¡°The strength and range of a Barrier is determined by three factors: what it excludes, its shape, and its caster¡¯s visualization. The more things a barrier repels, the more it shrinks.¡±

    Arc waved her hand. Yuan saw the flow of qi around her reshape itself at her command in the shape of a small circle barely extending beyond her body. Darkness overwhelmed everything inside its confines until his mentor vanished from inside a cone of shadows.

    ¡°Take light. Light is made of many colors. Red, green, blue¡­¡± The barrier suddenly doubled in radius. Arc appeared again, though Yuan immediately noticed that her red hair had turned black. ¡°A Barrier that excludes light will have a larger range than one that excludes itself, because it keeps fewer things out.¡±

    ¡°How do you separate red light from the rest?¡± Yuan asked, his mind struggling to grasp the concept. Light was light to him. He hardly imagined how to fraction it.

    ¡°That ties into the visualization restriction,¡± Arc replied. ¡°The better the Barrier¡¯s creator understands what they exclude, the stronger its boundaries. Any cultivator can create a Barrier that keeps demons out, but those who never encountered one in the flesh will have an incomplete understanding of what they¡¯re supposed to repel; making it easier for a fiend to break through.¡±

    Yuan nodded to himself. He had never studied light nor its physics; since he didn¡¯t understand how it worked, he couldn¡¯t understand how to fraction it. His limited knowledge greatly reduced the number of things he could repel.

    Yuan understood bullets well enough though. He wondered if he could create a Barrier that would repel them.

    ¡°Observe closely,¡± Arc ordered. ¡°See how a boundary is breached.¡±

    Yuan paid attention to her Barrier and noticed how the ambient flow of qi battered against its outline like a river against a dam. It eventually pierced through, and the Barrier collapsed into nothingness.

    ¡°Barriers are created when a cultivator temporarily reshapes the area¡¯s flow of qi, which then seeks to return to its original state,¡± Arc explained. ¡°The more stable its shape, the longer it¡¯ll last. That¡¯s why most cultivators resort to using circles or octagons.¡±

    Yet Yuan knew the Stoneskin Sect¡¯s defenses lasted for years. He wondered how they achieved that until he hit upon a likely solution. ¡°Can you layer multiple Barriers upon each other?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Arc confirmed with a shrug. ¡°That¡¯ll only matter if you¡¯re trying to create a Barrier that lasts for years on end though. Most rarely last longer than seconds or minutes in battle.¡±

    That checked out. Yuan guessed that the Stoneskin Sects used layered Barriers to durably reroute the flow of qi around their compounds, the same way communities used networks of dams to reroute water and reduce its friction.

    ¡°Now, knowing all these details¡­¡± Arc flipped the bullet within her hand. ¡°How did I create ?¡±

    Yuan pondered her question for a moment. From what he observed earlier, Arc manipulated metal-aligned qi present in the environment to materialize the bullet. How did keeping things out of a perimeter achieve this?

    Unless he was thinking along the wrong lines. He thought only Gunsouls could charge bullets with qi, but Arc insisted that other cultivators could imitate them with roundabout methods.

    What if¡­ what if Bullet Materialization involved a use of Barriers?

    ¡°Can you a Barrier?¡± Yuan asked. ¡°As in, keep something rather than ?¡±

    ¡°Pretty sharp,¡± Arc confirmed his hypothesis with a nod. ¡°Yes, cleverly built Barriers can be engineered to keep something inside them and create powerful seals. This Manhattan likely used this trick to mask their presence by containing his qi inside a small perimeter.¡±

    ¡°Then I think¡­¡± Yuan cleared his throat. He was no quick-talker, so it took him a moment to find his words. ¡°I think you created a bullet-shaped, reversed Barrier that would keep metal-aligned qi within itself and repel . That way you concentrated metal qi to such a degree that it took physical form. Like a mold.¡±

    A Barrier that would exclude everything except a specific element would both be small and extremely short-lived. The latter didn¡¯t matter much though. Once the metal qi condensed into a bullet, it would retain its shape even after the Barrier that created it disappeared.

    For the first time since he met her, Arc gave Yuan a small, wry smile. ¡°Not bad, not bad. Rather impressive actually. Yeah, you guessed right. I used one Barrier to keep the metal qi in, another to keep everything else out, and then layered them together. It¡¯s easier said than done though.¡±

    That was one way to put it. Layering those two forms would require extreme precision, and both Barriers wouldn¡¯t last longer than an instant. The sheer degree of focus required boggled Yuan¡¯s mind.

    But now that he knew it was possible and how to achieve it, he couldn¡¯t wait to try it.

    ¡°Here¡¯s your first exercise,¡± Arc said after placing her bullet on the workbench. ¡°I¡¯ll teach you how to create Barriers. When sunset comes, you¡¯ll have to cultivate outside my Authority for an entire night in the open.¡±

    Yuan froze in place. ¡°Outdoors?¡±

    Arc nodded sharply. ¡°You¡¯ll have to spend a night under the moonlight with your Barriers as your only protection.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s .¡± Moonburns would kill him within the first hour of exposure.

    ¡°For the cowards and the weak-willed, sure.¡± Arc shrugged without concern. ¡°Those who cannot survive the moonlight and face themselves will never stand among the greats. If you can¡¯t create a Barrier that¡¯ll protect you from Moonburns¡­¡±

    Arc¡¯s lips stretched into a fearsome, predatory look.

    ¡°Well, then you¡¯ll have to create one to keep your Moonlight Demon .¡±

 Chapter 28: Black Moonlight

    Yuan returned to the spirit-train in the late afternoon to find Holster and the others waiting for him.Bucket and his fellow cultists played dice with pellets near a rifle whose barrel was planted in the ground like a tree with a helmet over the stock; Yuan guessed they buried their late comrade there. As for Orient, she diligently stood on the spirit-train¡¯s threshold since her nature as a caretaker prevented her from leaving its confines.

    ¡°I¡¯m back,¡± Yuan said gruffly, only for Holster to rush over and hug him the moment he stepped out of the Headshot Forge. It drew a smile from his face as he awkwardly patted her on the head. ¡°And in one piece.¡±

    ¡°Praise the Gunpowder Father, thou have returned¡­¡± Bucket¡¯s enthusiasm turned to confusion when he noticed the Saint Heckler and Kalash Angel¡¯s absence. ¡°Weaponless?¡±

    ¡°They were confiscated,¡± Yuan replied with a sigh. Arc wouldn¡¯t return them until he proved himself ¡®self-sufficient.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯ve met with the Rifle Woman. She won¡¯t let us harvest ammo from her domain, but she means us no harm and offered up an alternative solution to our shortage.¡±

    Yuan recounted his encounter with Arc, much to the cultists¡¯ joy; the fact she didn¡¯t want them anywhere near her Authority and accidentally killed one of them did little to diminish their enthusiasm. The mere fact that a powerful Gunsoul rose from the dead and chose Yuan as an apprentice was a miracle in their eyes.

    ¡°To think that the Rifle Woman would make you her disciple¡­¡± Bucket muttered, before mimicking shooting himself in the head with a finger gun; a gesture which the other cultists swiftly imitated. ¡°Holy bullet, we may finally see the rise of a true Gun Sect!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just one-on-one mentoring,¡± Yuan warned them. The idea of founding a Sect didn¡¯t interest him in the slightest, let alone Arc. He preferred doing his own thing. ¡°She isn¡¯t going to move anywhere either.¡±

    ¡°I must say that I never knew mortals could damage each other¡¯s soul,¡± Orient said. The prospect seemed to worry her. Yuan guessed that a spirit like her was more in tune with those things than humans. ¡°Her duel with this Czar Zoa must have been a legendary fight.¡±

    Holster tugged at Yuan¡¯s pants to get his attention, then formed a series of hand signs. Yuan recognized the mudras she used; those associated with asking for help.

    Yuan guessed that she saw herself in Arc. Both suffered from a damaged core and its own consequences; one was free but powerless, the other strong but unable to properly control her own power. Yuan wasn¡¯t certain which of them had it worse.

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t think we can do anything to help her,¡± Yuan replied.

    ¡°Did that Flesh Mansion Sect disciple not say they could heal Miss Holster¡¯s core?¡± Orient suggested. ¡°I concede a wounded Gunsoul¡¯s soul might work differently than a Human Pillar, but if one can be repaired, why not the other?¡±

    Yuan shrugged in ignorance. He didn¡¯t know enough on the subject to answer. Part of him did ponder Orient¡¯s words though. It sounded like a waste for a warrior of Arc¡¯s caliber to waste away in a prison built from her own power, waiting for death.

    Yuan chased these wayward thoughts from his mind. Arc didn¡¯t ask for his help beyond killing Manhattan, and she had given him other tasks to complete. One which he would have to confront at sundown.

    ¡°Arc wants to put me through a test before she teaches me how to create bullets: I must spend an entire night exposed to the moonlight, with only Barriers and sutras to defend myself with.¡± Not that Yuan believed his gunplay would protect him in that situation. ¡°Alone too.¡±

    It said something about the danger of moonburns that even the Bullet Church cultists¡ªwith Bucket¡¯s notable exception¡ªbriefly gave him looks reserved for fools and dead men. Holster¡¯s eyes widened in fear and she began to shake her head in panic. Even Orient shifted in place uncomfortably.

    ¡°With all due respect, Honored Guest Yuan, I suggest against following this course of action,¡± Orient declared with genuine concern. ¡°Moonburns strike by the will of the Blackmoon, a Wayfinder who has become one with the Dao. To repel it with only a Barrier would be akin to trying to reverse up and down. This would be an act of divinity rivaling an Authority.¡± S?a??h the ??v?lF?re.?et website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Bucket immediately defended Arc¡¯s assessment. ¡°If a holy Gunsoul said it can be done, then it should be!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re sure, Buck?¡± one of the cultists asked, his fear written all over his face. ¡°Moonburns are no joke. Even cultivators hide from it.¡±

    ¡°That Rifle Woman shot Benny dead too, and she didn¡¯t give us the ammo we asked for,¡± another said with a grim scowl, his eyes wandering to his dead comrade¡¯s makeshift tomb. ¡°Maybe she¡¯s just crazy.¡±

    ¡°Nonsense!¡± Bucket protested. ¡°This is a test of faith!¡±

    ¡°It is possible to a night under the moonlight,¡± Orient conceded. ¡°But while I highly respect your abilities, Honored Guest Yuan, I do not think you will succeed. Not with your current skills at least.¡±

    ¡°This is a trial by fire,¡± Yuan explained.

    Orient squinted at him. ¡°What does this Rifle Woman believe you are guilty of?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s, uh, a figure of speech.¡± Come to think of it, the only trial Yuan witnessed involved stoning rather than fire. He wondered where that saying came from. ¡°She¡¯s putting me through a tough challenge to see how I fare under pressure.¡±

    ¡°Too much pressure breaks even steel,¡± Orient replied, unconvinced. ¡°This one will break .¡±

    Yuan knew the risks all too well. He had seen victims of moonburns and buried a few. The lucky ones were those who simply went mad from the hallucinations. The worst of them either died or became monsters roaming the wasteland.

    Nonetheless, Bucket had a point: if someone of Arc¡¯s strength believed he do it, then he would have to try. He couldn¡¯t see why Arc would give him an impossible task after going through the trouble of forming an Unspeakable Vow with him.

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Yuan would never defeat Slash or Manhattan if he refused to leave his comfort zone.

    ¡°What do you know of moonburns, Orient?¡± Yuan asked. As a caretaker spirit, she might offer him precious insight.

    ¡°The moonlight reveals the true shape of the soul, Honored Guest Yuan,¡± Orient explained. ¡°Unlike spirits like myself, mortals do not understand themselves. They doubt, ponder, and suppress. They hide the truth of their heart with lies the same way muck obstructs a river. When the moonlight sets their delusions on fire, the weak burn with them; only the strongest of will emerges purer, .¡±

    ¡°Reforged?¡± Yuan frowned. Reforged implied gaining greater strength, which confused him. He had never seen moonlight survivors coming out of the experience better than before. ¡°Moonburns can improve you?¡±

    ¡°For a precious few, yes,¡± Orient conceded. ¡°Cultivation is as much the art of reinforcing the mind as it is the body. The doubts and falsehoods mortals accumulate in their heart from emotional debris slow down their qi¡¯s flow. It blinds their soul and limits their potential.¡±

    ¡°So I could improve my cycling and qi reserves by burning such debris away,¡± Yuan muttered as he stroked his chin. He didn¡¯t think he had any particular emotional hang-ups to deal with, but he could simply lack awareness of them. ¡°Gaining a better understanding of my soul will likely come with other benefits too.¡±

    Arc hinted as much when she sent Yuan on his way after teaching him the basics of Barrier-shaping.

    Her words had confused Yuan more than anything.

    Yuan recalled that Arc had smiled back then, though she refused to tell him why. He guessed some truths could only be experienced, not told.

    Orient scowled upon seeing the interest in his eyes. ¡°I must insist once again that you reconsider, Honored Guest Yuan. In my humble opinion, the strength you may receive from surviving the moonburns isn¡¯t worth the risk.¡±

    Holster too silently begged him not to proceed with Arc¡¯s test. Her hands were tightly joined in a prayer and her wide eyes betrayed her concern for her guardian. It pained Yuan to set his foot down to her of all people, but he remained resolute.

    ¡°I must try anyway,¡± Yuan insisted. ¡°You are kind, both of you, but Arc won¡¯t teach me anything unless I pass this trial; and I succeed.¡±

    Orient scowled at him. ¡°And what if you do ?¡±

    Yuan¡¯s jaw clenched in frustration. He could tell that she worried more about what would happen to Holster and her should he perish. Orient was a living train, meant to guide people to their destinations. He had been the one to guide her so far. Without him, she would have no purpose.

    As for Holster, she had nowhere to go. Yuan knew Orient would take care of her to the best of her abilities, but her Human Pillar nature would forever prevent her from living a normal life. She would have to stay on the run fearing capture by slavers or worse for as long as she lived.

    As tough as it sounded, and as much as he appreciated Holster and wished the best for her, burying Slash in a ditch remained Yuan¡¯s top priority. He would need more power to pull it off, and he was ready to risk his half-life for it. He wouldn¡¯t be able to face Mingxia and Jaw-Long in the Nowhere if he chickened out, and he had already sworn an Unspeakable Vow.

    No way he would back down now when revenge was within his grasp.

    ¡°I won¡¯t fail,¡± Yuan insisted. No one would bury him again. ¡°You¡¯ll have to trust me on this one.¡±

    Holster stared at him in silence with her big wide eyes, before meekly nodding. Yuan could tell that she remained worried about him, but she chose to believe in him. She had seen him defeat a rad-hag with nearly all of his bones broken after all.

    Orient studied Holster and Yuan, then accepted defeat. ¡°Very well,¡± she said. ¡°I shall try to help however I can, Honored Guest Yuan.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Yuan took a long deep breath. ¡°I swear I won¡¯t disappoint you.¡±

    Failure wasn¡¯t an option tonight.

    Yuan sat in a lotus position outside the spirit-train.

    The Fleshmancer¡¯s white flowers surrounded him from all sides, forming a soft bed under him. Holster, Orient, Bucket, and the others observed him from the panoramic car¡¯s window a few meters away. Yuan had to promise them that they could try dragging him back inside if it seemed that he would die from moonburning to get them off his back, though it came out more as an empty reassurance.

    Was this how Jaw-Long felt whenever he and Mingxia prevented him from stupidly endangering himself? A mix of appreciation for his allies¡¯ concern and frustration at their lack of trust?

    Unlike Jaw-Long, Yuan did prepare himself for this excursion. He¡¯d spent the afternoon laboriously drawing symbols and circles in the ground around himself with Holster¡¯s help to improve the flow of earthly qi. He sat at the center of a vast array with a radius of four meters on each side.

    Barriers were a form of feng shui, and thus grounded in the world itself. As such, geometric shapes drawn around the caster helped them take physical form. Arc could will Barriers into existence with a wave of their hand, but a simple circle would help a neophyte like Yuan focus more easily.

    His first attempts showed Yuan that Barriers required very little qi from himself. He mostly expended a little at the start to gently guide the ambient flow around him in the shape he desired, at which point it achieved stability on its own. If he had to compare Barriers with techniques like the Recoil Fist, the former was akin to shaping a wall from clay within his grasp, while the latter forced him to use his own flesh as the foundation.

    The real effort came from the visualization aspect. Yuan didn¡¯t understand moonlight, so he had no idea what he was supposed to do to keep it out. Would repelling light itself spare him from getting moonburnt? Or did the moon¡¯s rays simply carry the magical power, like how lightning coursed through water? He couldn¡¯t tell until he actually experienced it, at which point he would have to quickly adapt the Barrier to improve its resilience. The current one only blocked his of the moonlight; it likely wouldn¡¯t survive first contact with the real thing.

    Holster showed a much better, nearly instinctual affinity for the visualization aspect of Barriers. She helped Yuan draw trigrams of three lines, either broken or unbroken, around the central yin-yang circle on which he sat. From what he gathered, this specific configuration would not only reinforce the outer octagonal Barrier, but also help him recreate it quicker should it fall.

    And then there was the matter of this ¡®Moonlight Demon¡¯ which Arc mentioned. Yuan knew that some moonburn victims transformed into fiends, but he had no idea how the process worked. Would a monster emerge from his heart if he succumbed to the hallucinations? Orient couldn¡¯t tell him, and Arc didn¡¯t wish to.

    He would know soon enough. The sun was about to set.

    Yuan gathered his breath and then began to cycle. His Barrier, weak as it was, let qi enter it easily enough. Focusing on its flow helped take his mind away from the incoming danger. Yuan basked in the freshness of the night around him. The light of stars and the world¡¯s outer rings was faint, almost imperceptible in the dark.

    The sun vanished behind the horizon, leaving the waxing moon alone in the night sky.

    For a very brief moment, the world seemed to hang on by a thread around Yuan. He sensed a shift in the ambient flow of qi like the needle of a clock stopping between midnight and the next day, between one universal state and another. Crossing the veil and entering the Thunderlands had been brutal. This transition, meanwhile, was as subtle and natural as the turn of the seasons. A force more pervasive than gravity took hold of reality itself.

    Yuan looked up at the waxing crescent moon, a black orb with a sliver of light peeking out; and it watched back at him like a squinting silver eye surrounded by a sclera of stars. The gaze of a Wayfinder who had become one with the Dao, with existence itself.

    The Blackmoon was seeing him.

    Knowing him.

    him.

 Chapter 29: Moonburns

    The moon¡¯s radiance crashed on Yuan¡¯s Barrier and shredded it like paper.A mighty wave of energy coming from the sky blew his poorly built defenses away and struck him in an instant. The moon¡¯s rays were as cold as the sunlight was warm. It was like he was being buffeted by winter¡¯s winds, except their chill ate away at his qi circulatory system rather than his flesh. His breath didn¡¯t turn to mist when it escaped his lungs, but a sensation of frost and numbness coursed through the roots of Yuan¡¯s bullet-core nonetheless. A great power subtler than the one coursing through the Thunderlands touched him, raw and alien.

    The moonlight caressed his .

    Yuan immediately created a new Barrier. Experiencing the moonlight first hand sharpened his understanding of it, so he attempted to keep it out with better boundaries. An octagonal protection arose from his bagua perimeter and held strong for a few seconds.

    Then it collapsed like the first.

    Yuan clenched his teeth as he furiously tried to figure out a solution. Moonlight used to be reflected sunlight in the days before the Blackmoon¡¯s ascension. That was only -true now. When Yuan adjusted a Barrier meant to repel the sun¡¯s rays, which he understood well enough, the moon¡¯s radiance continued to touch him. A stranger force changed it into something his mind struggled to understand.

    What if Yuan blocked light? forms of light? He had seen Arc pull it off, and though her Barrier shrank it still managed to cover her.

    Yuan closed his eyes and focused on the flow of qi around him to better reshape it. He first tried to cover the entire bagua array, since he trusted Holster¡¯s trigrams to help improve its solidity, but he failed to sustain the Barrier. The defensive perimeter collapsed before he could even complete it.

    As expected, a Barrier that excluded something so pervasive and all-encompassing as light possessed both a narrow range and weak defenses. His next attempt only covered the yin-yang circle at the array¡¯s center. Yuan reshaped the flow of qi rising from the nearby leyline along its edges.

    The Barrier held this time.

    Yuan immediately sensed the coldness receding. A circular space barely wide enough for his body to fit in protected and enveloped him in a shroud of thick darkness. When Yuan opened his eyes again, the universe had grown black.

    Yet the moon continued to glare down at him.

    Yuan realized he had failed, to his utter incomprehension. Light was what allowed the eye to see. No moonlight, no moon. Yet its eye remained visible above him, shining in a pitch-black expanse of thick darkness.

    ¡°How cute,¡± a familiar voice said on his left. ¡°You think trash like you can keep the out?¡±

    Yuan¡¯s head snapped to the side, his eyes catching a glimpse of a man peeking through the Barrier. His fanged mask stretched into a malevolent grin while its horns shed blood. His golden eyes peered at Yuan with the same cruel expression he bore before putting him in the ground.

    .

    Yuan¡¯s bullet-core began to pound in his skull so hard it hurt. The sight of his murderer grinning at him, his head so close that Yuan could feel his rancid breath on his face, filled him with panic and confusion.

    Yuan instinctively shifted position, his foot flying at Slash¡¯s face faster than a bullet. His nemesis easily dodged the blow with a laugh. Yuan¡¯s inattention caused the Barrier around him to collapse into nothingness. The moonlight and starlight bathed him once more in their radiance, their rays barreling on his skin.

    Yuan rose to his feet and immediately adopted a fighting stance, his attention entirely focused on his enemy. How did Slash get there without him noticing? The masked man stretched his legs in front of him without a care in the world on the bagua trigrams. If the moonburns affected him, he didn¡¯t show it.

    ¡°Creating a Barrier to keep the Blackmoon out is like saying you¡¯ll create one to keep out, you witless trash,¡± Slash mocked him. ¡°The Wayfinders are part of the Dao. They are .¡±

    All ofYuan¡¯s senses told him that Slash stood in front of him¨Che could him for the Wayfinders¡¯ sake¡ªand his bullet-core pounded madly in his head, but he trusted his gut.

    Yuan¡¯s eyes wandered to the spirit-train. Its windows had grown so black he couldn¡¯t see the people inside, but Slash stood in the vehicle¡¯s path. It would have been child¡¯s play for Orient to run him over.

    Why didn¡¯t she then?

    Yuan realized, a chill traveling down his spine. Slash had no reason to be there right now, and Yuan¡¯s allies would have intervened if he were. Orient and Holster would have sent a warning had Yuan¡¯s enemies sneaked up on him.

    Yuan was already hallucinating.

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    . Everyone knew that moonburns came from exposure to moonlight. Closed windows alone were enough to block out the effect. What did Yuan¡¯s previous Barrier lack that glass did not?

    Yuan quickly excluded that option. People caught in the moonlight could hope to save themselves by taking shelter inside. Only prolonged exposure caused moonburns.

    If blocking the moonlight didn¡¯t suffice, then what would?

    ¡°You know, I¡¯m following the Path of the Dyad,¡± Slash¡¯s illusion mumbled to himself. A katana appeared in his hands, its blade shining in the moonlight. ¡°The dividing and the duality. The study of light and darkness, the separation between the self and the other. Master and servant, challenger and challenged, good and evil.¡±

    Yuan told himself. This false Slash was a ploy, an illusion meant to distract him from the real danger.

    Yuan looked up at the moon¡¯s eye. It studied him with such rapturous focus that Yuan finally caught on to his Barrier¡¯s issue.

    Wayfinders had become one with the Dao and imposed their hearts¡¯ desire upon it. The Blackmoon¡¯s rule was simple: everyone exposed to the moon¡¯s gaze would have their inner truths revealed.

    Yuan¡¯s Barrier managed to reject light itself, but the moonlight wasn¡¯t a vector through which the Blackmoon¡¯s power traveled; it was one of its manifestations. A symptom of its.

    It wasn¡¯t the moonlight Yuan had to hide from, but the moon¡¯s . He had to create a Barrier that repelled its very concept and blocked the Blackmoon¡¯s sight.

    But how was he supposed to do ?

    ¡°Rivalries and divisions empower me in a way you can¡¯t fathom yet.¡± Slash swung its false blade above Yuan¡¯s head too fast for his eyes to follow. Yuan its edge caress his hair. The illusion was vividly realistic. ¡°It¡¯s why I go around picking fights, because my self defines itself in opposition to others.¡±

    ¡°Shut up,¡± Yuan ordered as he focused on the moon. He needed to understand it if he hoped to survive the next few hours. ¡°You¡¯re a hallucination. Not real.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re sure about that, trash?¡± Slash smirked ear to ear, his katana whistling as it moved. ¡°Can hallucinations do ?¡±

    He struck Yuan in the chest, his blade impaling him from one side and sticking out of the other.

    Yuan gasped in shock and surprise. The pain was intense, sharp, and above all, . He sensed a metal edge cut through the bullet roots coursing through his veins, followed by a surge of fire erupting within his flesh. Smoking red blisters formed around his wound.

    Burns.

    .

    ¡°See?¡± The illusion taunted Yuan before viciously twisting the blade in the wound. ¡°I¡¯m real enough to kill you.¡±

    Yuan grabbed the sword with his hands in an attempt to remove it. His hands burned at the metal¡¯s contact, though he managed to force it out of his chest a little. The blade had weight and texture. The moonburns it real.

    Slash held his katana with both hands, then lifted Yuan up with it. Yuan¡¯s thought process came to an abrupt halt as his feet dangled up in the air. Slash hurled him across the bagua array before he could react. Yuan landed face-first on a bed of petals and dirt, utterly shocked.

    ¡°You¡¯re seriously deranged, trash,¡± the fake Slash taunted him. ¡°You¡¯ll throw your half-life away because some senile has-been told you so?¡±

    Yuan gritted his teeth and focused on the flow of earthly qi. His senses told him that he had indeed landed outside the bagua array.

    Either Slash¡¯s illusion could throw him around like ragdoll, or Yuan¡¯s mind was so far gone already that it compelled his body to shift position on its own.

    If this illusion could Yuan, then it could him.

    Yuan rushed to his feet, his mind furiously trying to figure out a way out of this situation. His mentor¡¯s instructions echoed in his mind. If Arc ordered him to complete the trial using only feng shui and sutras, then he either didn¡¯t need techniques to prevail¡­ or they wouldn¡¯t do anything to help.

    Yuan realized. Slash lazily walked up to him with smug confidence.

    Yuan began to cycle the lunar qi around him, embracing the moonlight and basking in its energies. He understood the risks, but he couldn¡¯t create an effective Barrier against something he didn¡¯t understand.

    The lunar qi was quite different from the one surging from the earth: cold, evanescent, and difficult to grasp. Yuan felt like a man trying to shape an icy mist.

    ¡°Are you ignoring me right now? That¡¯s quite insulting.¡± Slash shook his head with a look of absolute condescension. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll have to shorten your half-life then.¡±

    He lunged at Yuan in a fearsome blur of speed, his blade aiming to kill.

    Yuan¡¯s reflexes barely let him step back to avoid a fatal blow. The illusory sword sliced across his chest with inhuman speed and cut all the way to the ribs. Fire seared Yuan¡¯s flesh, his teeth gritting to suppress the pain. Slash would have cut him in half had he been a second slower.

    ¡°Is the pain really worth it?¡± The illusion taunted him. ¡°Isn¡¯t it enough that you survived getting shot in the head once and came back with powers?¡±

    The fake Slash immediately continued his assault, his katana singing as its steel cut through the air. Yuan was forced on the defensive. He sidestepped and dodged, his enemy¡¯s blade coming within an inch of slicing his throat more than once. The danger ahead of him moved too fast for him to focus on the ambient qi.

    ¡°Normal people in your situation don¡¯t hunt down their murderers across the wasteland begging for a second round of gun roulette,¡± Slash taunted him in between swings. ¡°They¡¯re too busy celebrating being !¡±

    Yuan gritted his teeth and backflipped in a vain attempt to put some distance between the mirage and himself. It did him little good. The false Slash closed the gap between them in an instant, his blade grazing the surface of Yuan¡¯s stomach.

    ¡°The truth is, you¡¯re sick in the head, Scrap trash. You¡¯re a deviant who gets off on the idea of killing cultivators.¡± Another swing of his sword left a trail of burns across Yuan¡¯s chest. ¡°Murdering that oni, Toshiro was it? I¡¯m sure blasting his head off gave you a boner bigger than my katana.¡±

    ¡°You killed Jaw-Long and Mingxia,¡± Yuan rasped angrily. If he denied the hallucination, maybe he could break its hold on his mind. ¡°Can¡¯t let you get away with it!¡±

    ¡°Come on, you don¡¯t care about Jaw-Long and Mingxia. One of them was an idiot and the other a whore. They were just Scraps, both of them.¡± s?a??h th? N?v?lFire.n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Yuan¡¯s hands clenched into fists. ¡°Shut up!¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯d cared about either of them¡­¡± Slash cackled cruelly. ¡°would be the ones showing up instead of me.¡±

    The illusion¡¯s words jolted Yuan worse than the rad-hag¡¯s lightning. They were lies, he knew it, but somehow they managed to latch onto his soul. His hesitation was rewarded with another blow deadlier than the others.

    Slash¡¯s katana impaled him through the heart in a flash of fire.

 Chapter 30: The True Shape of Ones Soul

    Pain, followed by a sensation of boiling alive, filled Yuan¡¯s chest.The tip of Slash¡¯s katana stuck out of his back. The rest of the blade sliced through his heart and spread moonburns across his chest. If Yuan still needed organs to survive instead of a bullet-core, then he would have died on the spot.

    His agony wouldn¡¯t be so swift.

    ¡°You don¡¯t really care about your old teammates,¡± Slash taunted him. ¡°You never allowed yourself to.¡±

    The hallucination tried to lift Yuan up by his katana and gut him open like a fish. Yuan grabbed the blade with his hands before he could do so, his hands burning at the steel¡¯s contact.

    ¡°You kept them at arm¡¯s length because you were both pathetic ,¡± the hallucination said. ¡°Scraps whose lives I snuffed out in an instant."

    ¡°That¡¯s bullshit!¡± Yuan hissed back while blisters covered his fingers. ¡°They were my friends!¡±

    ¡°Right, you were so close that you replaced them with a train and an orphan a week later.¡± Slash pushed back in an attempt to bury his sword into his enemy¡¯s flesh. ¡°Look into your memories. What do you know of their dreams? Their hopes? .¡±

    Yuan grit his teeth. His mind tried to come up with a clever retort and came up empty. He knew that Jaw-Long wanted to become a cultivator¡ªhe and Yuan both worked together in hope of eventually buying a pill¡ªand that Mingxia set money aside for something, but he couldn¡¯t recall why or for what.

    Did he ever truly know his teammates?

    Yuan banished these questions from his mind before they could distract him from the battle at hand. He managed to force the sword out of his flesh inch by inch, but the pain grew sharper anyway. His body ached worse than ever before. He felt on the inside.

    ¡°You¡¯re not pursuing me to avenge Jaw-Long and Mingxia. You¡¯re chasing me to avenge your wounded ego.¡± Slash leaned forward to whisper into Yuan¡¯s ear. ¡°Do you think killing me will prove that you¡¯ve risen above scraphood?¡±

    ¡°You talk too much,¡± Yuan replied angrily.

    He headbutted the hallucination with all of his might. The blow hurt him worse than the fake Slash, but it pushed him back enough for Yuan to fully extract the blade. He kicked the illusion in the chest and forced him back.

    Slash easily adjusted his posture and shifted into a battle stance. ¡°Ready to fight back now?¡±

    ¡°Sort of.¡± Yuan gathered his breath and then joined his fingers except for his pinkies. ¡°Mahamayuri!¡±

    The mudra¡¯s name echoed across the night and caused the fake Slash to flinch. Encouraged by his reaction, Yuan frantically repeated the incantation as if his life depended on it; because it probably did.

    ¡°Mahamayuri!¡± Yuan repeated. The pain of the burns lessened with each utterance, the smoke dying out and the blisters growing cold. ¡°Mahamayuri! Mahamayuri!¡±

    Slash¡¯s body wavered and blurred like a mirage in the sun. His golden eyes flickered into two quicksilver moons glaring at Yuan, while his sword undulated like rippling water.

    The Mahamayuri mudra cleansed the user of poison and toxins. From the illusion¡¯s reaction, that included ones. The moon was losing its hold on Yuan¡¯s mind.

    Yuan continued to utter the mudra while grounding his feet into the ground and focusing on the lunar qi.

    ¡°You think you can keep me out with a mudra?¡± Slash exploded into a deep, maniacal laughter. ¡°I¡¯m inside your dumbass!¡±

    ¡°Maham¨C¡± Yuan gulped as a surge of pain suddenly overwhelmed his chest. A viscous liquid erupted from his wounded lungs and forced its way up his throat. ¡°Mayu¡­¡±

    Yuan covered his mouth with his hand and suddenly collapsed to his knees. His bullet-core pounded so hard his skull hurt. His throat burned with smoke rising from his nostrils. Something was clawing its way out of him. Something big, vile, .

    ¡°You feel it, eh?¡± Slash¡¯s laugh echoed inside Yuan¡¯s head to the tune of his core¡¯s pulsations. ¡°Everything you hate about yourself coalescing? All your lies, your fears, your anguishes¡­ your worst self trying to escape your hollow shell?¡±

    Yuan forced his mouth shut and covered his nostrils in an attempt to keep the thing inside him. It only increased the pressure within and without. The weight of the moon¡¯s gaze grew stronger. It called out to whatever lurked inside Yuan and beckoned it to come out.

    It came from his .

    His soul...

    The path to victory became clear to Yuan.

    Yuan hastily drew a small circle in the ground around himself using the last of his strength. He called upon the flow of the earth¡¯s qi to rise around him, and a Barrier formed in answer to his plea by surrounding him from all sides.

    The pain vanished in an instant.

    The moonburns didn¡¯t disappear, but Yuan briefly grew numb to them. The viscous liquid filling his lungs receded. Whatever horror threatened to erupt from his flesh crawled back into his bowels.

    Slash looked at the circle with disdain. ¡°What¡¯s supposed to keep out?¡±

    Yuan coughed. ¡°Myself.¡±

    Slash glared at him, then attempted to bring his sword down on Yuan¡¯s head. The steel harmlessly bounced off the Barrier without inflicting any damage. The illusion¡¯s expression twisted into a snarl of rage, its furious assaults clashing again with an impenetrable defense. His attacks were waves crashing on an eternal shore.

    Yuan watched the pitiful display with morose acceptance. Part of him wished he had guessed wrong.

    The danger of moonburns didn¡¯t lie in the light, but what it revealed.

    ¡°You¡¯re part of me, aren¡¯t you?¡± Yuan asked the hallucination. ¡°My¡­ what, doubts? My moonlight demon?¡±

    Slash growled in response. He punched and kicked at the Barrier, his blows unable to shake its boundaries. Yuan glared back at the apparition in frustration. How could this thing arise from his own mind?

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    How was he supposed to conquer it? Would he have to maintain the Barrier until dawn? In that case, it would simply be a matter of waiting¨C

    A surge of pain arose from Yuan¡¯s chest, distracting him. His hand reached for his burning skin and again felt the steam rising from the wounds. The liquid thing wriggled back in his stomach and reasserted itself.

    Yuan realized to his horror. He quickly formed a mudra. ¡°Mahamayuri¡­¡±

    ¡°Come out, you coward!¡± Slash taunted him. ¡°Are you going to hole up until the stars die out in the sky?!¡±

    ¡°Shut up¡­¡± Yuan growled back, only for a sensation of nausea to overwhelm him. The mudras didn¡¯t do anything to quell his pain this time. What was happening? The Barrier kept Slash out, but not the moonburns?

    ¡°You would have lived your life to the fullest if you¡¯d cared about your dead teammates, ¡®cause that¡¯s what would have wanted for ,¡± Slash mocked him. ¡°They would have wanted you to raise that orphan girl in peace, but we both know you won¡¯t. You¡¯d cast her aside to face , after all.¡±

    ¡°Lies!¡± Yuan snapped back, only for his chest pain to worsen. The moonburns affecting his wounded heart had spread all the way to his shoulders. Yuan felt his body bursting at the seams as boiling liquid tried to force its way up his throat.

    Yuan always wondered how moonburn victims turned into monsters, and he had the very bad feeling he would experience the process firsthand very soon. He couldn¡¯t hold the thing inside him for long.

    Yuan forced himself to breathe and focus.

    ¡°Rise up, coward,¡± Slash taunted him while kicking the Barrier. Ripples spread through its foundations. Would it crack soon? ¡°Go on, tell me I¡¯m wrong!¡±

    Yuan would have an easier time focusing without this hallucination blurting out lies and¨C

    Yuan¡¯s eyes widened in understanding. He stared at the hallucination. Now that he looked at Slash, he seemed to have grown a tiny bit taller since Yuan raised his Barrier. His previously blurry appearance had sharpened. He had regained his power over Yuan¡¯s mind.

    And he had an idea how.

    ¡°The more I deny you¡­¡± Yuan glared at Slash. ¡°The stronger you get¡­¡±

    The hallucination smirked ear to ear, his fangs gleaming in the pale moonlight. The pain in Yuan¡¯s chest lessened a tiny bit.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care about them as much as I should?¡± Yuan muttered under his breath. ¡°That¡¯s what you¡¯re trying to say?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to kill me for ,¡± the illusion replied cruelly. ¡°You¡¯re doing it for . Just for you.¡±

    Yuan almost answered that a man wouldn¡¯t work so hard to avenge people he didn¡¯t care for, but he stopped himself. Denying the hallucination¡¯s taunts only strengthened the moonburns. Instead, Yuan forced himself to sit down, breathe, and think.

    Was there any truth to his words?

    Yuan had cared for Mingxia and Jaw-Long as much as someone like him could afford to in their line of work. He was certain of it.

    Yuan pondered. He tried to imagine what would have changed if Slash¡¯s band had ambushed him alone; his answer was nothing.

    Yuan pursued Slash to avenge himself first and foremost, because he wanted to prove his strength. To show the world that he had risen above his status of Scrap and could fight back against those who killed him so casually.

    Avenging his teammates was just an excuse to assuage his conscience, a way to tell himself he had nobler intentions than the power-hungry cultivators he despised.

    Yuan glanced at the spirit-train and its blackened windows. He wondered if Holster and the others were staring back at him from behind the glass. How did this whole encounter look to them? Did they hold their breath while he let a manifestation of his own subconscious mind torture him in the hopes of grasping more power?

    Yuan wasn¡¯t the kind of person to put his guns away, even for the sake of the innocent. He wouldn¡¯t stop even after killing Slash. He knew that now. He would keep looking for opponents to defeat and mountains to climb. He wanted to grow so strong that would bury him in a ditch ever again.

    Yuan glared at his heart¡¯s reflection outside the Barrier.

    Yuan searched for the answer deep inside himself. Seeing the ugliest parts of his soul physically manifested in front of him didn¡¯t give him too much leeway to deny the truth, but he felt that he was missing an important detail.

    Would he have bothered to carry Holster around and look for a cure for her if he only cared about proving his strength? He might have killed her previous owners for the sake of his pride, but a heartless cultivator obsessed with strength would have surrendered her to the rad-hag or sacrificed her for his own purposes. Instead, Yuan let her tag along with him and sought to protect her. S?a??h the n0v?l(?)ire.?et website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    He hated what Holster represented: a dog-eat-dog world where Sects could turn children into living sacrifices and kill whoever they wanted.

    was why Yuan wanted to ascend through the Coils of Infinity: to spit on that rotten wasteland that treated Scraps as nothing but slaves and resources.

    No wonder Bucket¡¯s plan to screw over both of Fleshmarket¡¯s Sects appealed to him so much. Yuan would wipe them out himself if he had the strength to do so, alongside Manhattan, the Yinyang Khan, and other cultivators who killed others without blinking.

    ¡°I hate those assholes,¡± Yuan told himself, figuratively and literally. ¡°I want to kill them all.¡±

    It suddenly occurred to Yuan that his hallucination hadn¡¯t spoken in a while. He focused back on Slash to find him gone.

    A monster stood in his place.

    The creature in front of Yuan was as fearsome as it was otherworldly: a fiendish entity rising from gunsmoke, with a loaded gun¡¯s barrel and slide protruding from its ghoulish metal face. Its eyes burned with a fierce, fiery light, and a bright glow shone between its jagged fangs. Its body was an amalgam of flayed flesh and steel, with iron skulls forming most of its chest. A blazing cannon seamlessly merged with its right arm and a gatling gun with its left. Only its armored legs were sleek and vaguely humanoid.

    Most would have felt fear at the sight of this demon, but Yuan found it comforting. Familiar even. He knew what this creature was the moment he laid eyes upon it: his soul¡¯s true shape, revealed to him by the Blackmoon¡¯s will.

    ¡°Bullet Hell.¡±

    The words escaped Yuan¡¯s mouth on their own, clear and unmistakable. The monster vanished in the blink of an eye upon hearing them. It simply disappeared without a trace, never to return.

    ¡°Bullet Hell,¡± Yuan whispered under his breath. ¡°Where does that come from?¡±

    ¡°From within,¡± a melodious voice answered him.

    Yuan looked up at the moon. A young woman gracefully drifted down from the night sky above, her intricate umbrella spinning under the stars.

    Yuan thought he was dreaming for a moment. The ethereal figure hovering above him carried herself with otherworldly grace, her long-sleeved black gown flowing in the night¡¯s wind. Her pale skin was a striking shade of blue and her long curly hair the color of quicksilver. Two curved horns peeked out from under a wide-brimmed hat. Her crimson catlike eyes studied Yuan¡¯s bullet-core with amusement, while her lips stretched into a spirited smile.

    ¡°You received a glimpse of the Path your soul wishes to take,¡± said the stranger. ¡°The truth previously hidden by your fears and doubts.¡±

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Yuan asked. Though he sensed no hostility from her, he still kept his guard up.

    ¡°My name is Kaguya, a messenger of the Moonlight Sect.¡± The Blackmoon¡¯s hidden worshipers. ¡°My sincere congratulations on braving the first of our lord¡¯s trials, Gunsoul.¡±

    ¡°The first?¡± Yuan squinted. ¡°There are ?¡±

    ¡°Of course. To conquer oneself is a long and perilous journey. Facing one¡¯s doubts is only the first step towards enlightenment.¡± The woman chuckled lightly. ¡°But rejoice, for few are brave enough to take it.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a meager consolation,¡± Yuan replied with a snort. ¡°I failed my mentor¡¯s trial. I was supposed to block out moonburns with a Barrier, and I failed.¡±

    The woman smiled kindly at him as she landed on the ground outside the barrier, her umbrella closing. ¡°Your master is either ignorant or a trickster,¡± she said. ¡°No power short of an Authority can obscure our lord¡¯s gaze. Such a task was doomed from the start.¡±

    Yuan pondered her words for a moment. Though he knew her Sect had an interest in overstating their patron¡¯s power and influence, she sounded sincere enough. Yuan¡¯s Barriers failed to keep the Blackmoon¡¯s influence out too; he only managed to triumph over himself, not the Wayfinder.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have tried if I knew,¡± Yuan guessed.

    By making him think he could block out the moonburns with the correct Barrier, Arc forced him to quickly focus on mastering the art and challenge his inner demons.

    ¡°A likely possibility,¡± Kaguya confirmed. ¡°The Path revealed to you is but one of many open to you. Your success tonight grants you entry among the Moonlight Sect. Allow me to invite you among our numbers, if you wish to understand yourself through secrets and reflection.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll pass,¡± Yuan replied instantly, politely yet firmly.

    His answer drew a laugh from her. ¡°Why is that?¡±

    Yuan gazed at the moon. ¡°It just occurred to me that I hate Sects.¡±

 Chapter 31: Bullet Farmer

    Thankfully, Kaguya took Yuan¡¯s rejection in stride.¡°It is a shame that you would deny us,¡± she said. ¡°I assure you that we are not like most sects and their rigid traditions. We Moonlighters are more of a collective of scholars dedicated to the understanding of ourselves.¡±

    ¡°All sects say that,¡± Yuan replied with skepticism. He had heard too many empty promises to buy this one. ¡°Stoneskin, Flesh Mansion, Metallists¡­ beneath the veneer, you all serve the same shit."

    ¡°While hierarchies are inherent to any kind of organization, ours is loose,¡± Kaguya replied, though Yuan didn¡¯t believe her. ¡°Nonetheless, my invitation does not come with a time limit. Venture forth and walk your own path, if that is your wish. Should you change your mind one night, you only need to pray for the Blackmoon¡¯s mercy and I shall answer in its stead.¡±

    Yuan shrugged. As far as recruitment speeches went, he had heard better. ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll meet again.¡±

    The moon cultivator gave him a wry smile. ¡°I am not so certain, Yuan Guang.¡±

    He bristled. ¡°How do you know my name?¡±

    ¡°The moonlight unveils everything,¡± she replied. ¡°Our Lord is a Wayfinder and a kinder guide than the Gun. We would be happy to free you from the Gunsoul curse and give you your half-life back.¡±

    ¡°This core is the seat of my soul,¡± Yuan replied with a snort. ¡°I¡¯ll die without it.¡±

    ¡°You would,¡± Kaguya conceded. ¡°But there are other forces that can fill that void. So long as you do not cross the Fourth Coil and dedicate yourself to a Path, the Gun will not be your option.¡±

    Yuan squinted at her with suspicion. ¡°What do you know of Gunsouls?¡±

    ¡°Enough to pity your kind.¡± Kaguya disappeared behind her umbrella. ¡°Ponder this when you find yourself at the barrel¡¯s end.¡±

    She vanished in a blink of an eye, leaving Yuan alone in the pale moonlight.

    He was tempted to brush off Kaguya¡¯s words as the empty boasts of a cultivator seeking to impress a potential recruit, but she also called being a Gunsoul a curse, just like Arc before her. The Moonlight Sect focused on gathering secrets, so they might know more about the Gun than he thought.

    Yuan shook his head and sat back into a lotus position. He had no intention of joining a Sect or straying from the Path of the Gun so far. He was fine bearing a curse¡¯s burden if it meant gaining the power to stand on his own two legs, independent from Sects and warlords alike.

    Arc ordered that he spend the night cycling while raising a Barrier to stop the moonburns, and while the latter exercise was apparently impossible, he was determined to complete the former task.

    Yuan noticed an improvement the moment he closed his eyes and absorbed the local qi into himself. He breathed in the cold moonlight and invited the starlight into himself. The once-disturbing experience had become soothing, almost enjoyable. The lunar energies moved through his metal veins faster than ever before, and the night no longer felt hostile to him.

    Orient was right, purifying himself of emotional debris had eased his qi¡¯s circulation. Yuan could feel it move seamlessly inside him, without obstruction or speed bumps. His burns and wounds didn¡¯t impair him.

    Taking a step towards enlightenment had given Yuan a greater sense of self-awareness. By gaining a glimpse of his soul and understanding its own shape, the divide between his sense of individuality and the rest of the universe had become starker. Seeing the outline of a piece let him see how it differed from the whole.

    The Dao was everything and everywhere at once, but Yuan was more than a cog in a machine. He knew where he stopped and the cosmos began. The lunar qi only helped to illustrate that frontier by shining on him. S~?a??h the ???el F?re.n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Arc told him that she created bullets by using two overlapping Barriers: one to draw in the qi required to forge them, and another to exclude everything else. Yuan realized that he had an easier time with the latter after surviving the moonburns. Moreover, his soul was encased in a -core. He understood its composition on an instinctual level, the same way a man knew his own hands.

    Yuan wondered before experimenting with Barriers. He focused on the qi around him, trying to understand how everything fit together.

    Yuan was taught that the five elements were metaphorical; they represented a state of qi energy rather than actual fire or water. Nonetheless, techniques like Elemental Infusion taught him that this metaphor could easily become reality.

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    The more things a Barrier excluded, the smaller its radius and the more difficult it became to maintain. Yuan created one that repelled everything metal-aligned qi. He sensed the world change at his command as the building blocks of reality rearranged themselves. It took a few tries, but the result of his labor soon materialized within the palm of his hand: a bullet, raw and pure.

    Strange. Why would Arc tell him to use two overlapping Barriers when one that excluded everything except metal qi could do the job? Yuan studied his creation and quickly noticed the issue.

    A was easy enough to build, since it was nothing more than a piece of metal. A functional was a different matter altogether. He needed a casing to hold the gunpowder required to propel it, and a primer to help ignite it. In its current state, his creation was no more than a lump of lead unfit for a gun.

    Yuan would have to segment his Barrier to materialize its individual components. The casing and bullet would be easy to make, since they were both made of metal qi he could easily produce himself; the gunpowder and primer would prove more difficult to obtain.

    Yuan thought as he recalled the primary ingredients for basic gunpowder. He had spent his life learning about guns and researching its components after all.

    Yuan knew how to identify these elements, since they made up a part of his soul, but they differed too much from mere metal for him to summon them from nothing. He put a hand against the earth and analyzed the flow of qi.

    To a Scrap, the region around him would look like a useless expanse of white flowers blooming over a desolate wasteland; but the Fleshmancer¡¯s creations still required water, however rare, to bloom. They¡¯d sucked the ground of it and left only precious minerals. Yuan detected those deposits sleeping beneath the earth, from the remains of ancient trees to sulfur and lead.

    Arc didn¡¯t choose this leyline to stabilize her broken Authority for nothing. If ammo could naturally grow from the earth, they would find these fields quite nutritious. Yuan never imagined himself as a farmer, but he supposed being a cultivator wasn¡¯t so far off from one. Both exploited the environment to nourish themselves.

    Yuan pressed his palm against the ground and designed overlapping Barriers. His first three tries ended in abject failures, either because he failed to segment them properly or because he couldn¡¯t isolate the elements he wanted. The fourth, though, resulted in a strange fruit: a conical piece of metal, nine millimeters in diameter and filled with explosive powder.

    A cartridge.

    ¡°Neat,¡± Yuan said.

    By sunrise, Yuan finished his cycling surrounded by bullet piles.

    He¡¯d spent hour after hour refining his cartridges, from his crude first attempts to good-quality projectiles that looked indistinguishable from handmade ammunition.

    , Yuan thought, right before a strange idea crossed his mind.

    Yuan grabbed one of his own cartridges between his thumb and index finger, faced the horizon, and then triggered his Recoil Fist. The pulse successfully ignited the projectile and sent it flying across the land with the familiar sound of a gunshot.

    Yuan smiled in pride. Combining Item Materialization and the Recoil Fist consumed far more energy than using normal firearms, but he wouldn¡¯t need to rely on them. Arc would be pleased.

    His moonburns had healed too, though not in the way Yuan would have expected. His charred skin had turned into a thin metallic sheen where the fake Slash had inflicted damage. A network of intertwined iron coils occupied the space where his old human heart used to be.

    Revolver warned him that he shouldn¡¯t expect to look human if he progressed further on the Path of the Gun. Yuan understood what he meant by that now. His bullet-core was slowly changing his body into a shape that better fit his gunpowder-fueled soul.

    Yuan could live with that outcome. Facing his fears and doubts had only hardened his resolve. He would do whatever it took to crush Slash and his kind.

    Yuan grabbed a few of his cartridges at the exact moment the door to the spirit-train¡¯s panoramic wagon opened up. Holster immediately rushed out of it to hug him tightly, with the cultists stepping down after her.

    ¡°Holy bullet,¡± Bucket said in adoration, his hands forming a rifle sign as he greeted Yuan. ¡°The moon itself recoils from the Gun Father¡¯s chosen!¡±

    ¡°Told you I would succeed,¡± Yuan said, mostly for Holster¡¯s sake than that of the cultists.

    ¡°You made us wonder, Honored Guest Yuan,¡± Orient said. The caretaker spirit stood on the wagon¡¯s threshold, her eyes studying Yuan¡¯s healed wounds. ¡°Watching moonburns overtake you was quite the disturbing display.¡±

    Yuan scowled. ¡°How did it look on your end?¡±

    ¡°Frightening,¡± Orient replied bluntly. ¡°You began to argue with a person who wasn¡¯t there, then ran outside your own Barrier while burns consumed your flesh. We were steadily growing concerned for your safety, doubly so when that woman came down from the sky. Had she attacked you, I would have had no choice but to intervene.¡±

    ¡°The woman?¡± Yuan clenched his fists. ¡°You mean the girl with the umbrella?¡±

    ¡°Indeed,¡± Orient confirmed. ¡°I must say, I do not understand what artifice she used to disguise her presence and leave without leaving a trail. I suspect the use of an innate technique.¡±

    So the Slash hallucination took place in his own head, but Kaguya was entirely real. Yuan wasn¡¯t sure what to make of that information. The fact the Moonlight Sect could instantly intercept anyone surviving their moonburns and escape without a trace disturbed him greatly.

    At least he fulfilled Arc¡¯s trial and came out stronger. His improved cycling, greater insight into Barriers, and newfound mastery of Item Materialization were more than worth the pain he went through.

    Bucket proved all too eager to test Yuan¡¯s creations too. He grabbed one of the 9mm bullets, put it in a handgun, and fired at the horizon. The gunshot echoed across the landscape, and the smoke rising from the barrel had never smelt sweeter to Yuan.

    ¡°These can fly, sir!¡± Bucket said.

    ¡°Would the Bullet Church have ammo schematics I could use?¡± Yuan asked.

    ¡°Of course!¡± Bucket clapped his hands in his giddiness. ¡°Nine millimeters, ten millimeters, as many millimeters as you need!¡±

    ¡°In that case, I¡¯ll solve your ammo shortage all by myself,¡± Yuan replied with no small amount of pride while patting Holster on the head. ¡°Let¡¯s fill one of the wagons to the brim with an ammo harvest.¡±

    He would give Fleshmarket¡¯s Sects a taste of Bullet Hell.

 Chapter 32: Recoil Blast

    Like last time, Yuan found Arc crafting bullets in Headshot Forge¡¯s heart. He couldn¡¯t help but wonder if she did anything else in her spare time.¡°You should have accepted her offer,¡± she told him without turning to face him. ¡°You¡¯ll come to regret your decision.¡±

    Yuan crossed his arms. ¡°How much did you see?¡±

    ¡°Everything.¡± Arc studied her latest bullet. ¡°The Moonlight Sect visited me too once, when I first survived the moonburns. I regret denying them today.¡±

    ¡°But you still did,¡± Yuan replied. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Same reason as you, I suppose. I was a naive fool who wanted to stand on my own two feet.¡± She shook her head in bitterness and tossed the bullet aside. ¡°For all the good it did.¡±

    ¡°You made your choice, and so did I. I¡¯ll see this through to the end.¡±

    ¡°Stubborn one, aren¡¯t you?¡± She turned to face him, a wry smile on her face. ¡°You performed well for a newbie, I¡¯ll give you that.¡±

    At least she seemed pleased with his progress. Yuan took it as a good sign, though he had some issues with her training methods. ¡°You deceived me. No Barrier could repel the moonburns.¡±

    ¡°I asked you to cultivate under the moon for a full night and you did,¡± Arc replied. ¡°I¡¯m no helicopter mentor.¡±

    Helicopter? Was that some kind of spirit-beast? ¡°I don¡¯t know that expression.¡±

    ¡°It means I¡¯m not going to coddle you. You wanted to learn my techniques, so I¡¯ll teach them way.¡± She raised her index finger at Yuan. ¡°You¡¯ve shown good instincts by combining Item Materialization and the Recoil Fist, but you¡¯ve also missed a key application of Barriers.¡±

    Yuan watched with attention as his mentor crafted a tiny, cylindrical Barrier extending from her nail and beyond: one crafted to repel air itself. It surrounded Arc¡¯s finger and extended to three times its length. It reminded him of a rifle¡¯s barrel, with his mentor¡¯s hand serving as the handle.

    In short, it looked like a finger gun.

    ¡°Barriers always require some form of physical anchor, a support on which to stand,¡± Arc explained. ¡°Your body is as good as any. You¡¯ve seen that when you began crafting bullets of your own. A cylinder is a stable shape with many applications.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re creating an artificial barrel to increase range and velocity while reducing friction,¡± Yuan guessed.

    Arc confirmed his assumption with a nod. ¡°I call it Sniper¡¯s Bore. You create a tube extending from your finger that focuses the Recoil Fist¡¯s energy and stabilizes the bullet¡¯s trajectory. This drastically sharpens your precision, if your eyes can keep up with the target.¡±

    To illustrate her point, Arc grabbed a bullet and jammed it inside her finger gun¡¯s Barrier. The projectile floated in front of her nail; not only was the cylinder designed to repel air from the sides, but also kept the bullet contained within itself.

    Arc then pointed at the sun and activated her Recoil Fist. Unlike Yuan, she had enough precise control over her technique to avoid using her entire hand. A burst of energy surged from her finger alone, igniting the bullet¡¯s primer.

    The charged shot flew faster than Yuan¡¯s eyes could follow with a supersonic boom. He managed to trace a flash of its qi trail as it crossed the entire length of Headshot Forge and beyond.

    ¡°What was your longest shot?¡± Yuan asked as his mentor¡¯s Barrier dissipated.

    ¡°Around five hundred kilometers,¡± Arc replied flatly.

    ¡°You¡¯re kidding.¡± Yuan stared at her in disbelief. It took him a while for his mind to grasp the sheer distance. ¡°That¡¯s the length of the. There¡¯s no way you could see a target at that range.¡±

    ¡°Believe what you want,¡± Arc replied with a shrug. ¡°It wasn¡¯t a good shot anyway. The bullet¡¯s impact loses its punch and velocity at such a distance. Three to ten kilometers is your optimal range for Sniper¡¯s Bore. You¡¯ll get diminishing returns beyond that, not to mention that you won¡¯t keep up with your current eyes. You¡¯ll need more Coils under your belt to punch above your range weight.¡±

    Yuan pondered her words in contemplative silence. His longest shot ever was at a kilometer and a half with an iron sight and little obstruction. So many parameters determine a shooter¡¯s success at a distance, from the wind to air friction and the target¡¯s movements. He could see himself doing better with an actual sniper¡¯s scope, but not with naked eyes.

    . If Yuan could reinforce his body with qi, he should be able to sharpen his vision.

    Yuan began to practice Sniper¡¯s Bore under Arc¡¯s watch. Creating the Barrier came easily to him, since it was designed to keep bullets and the Recoil Fist¡¯s shockwave penned in; both of which he understood on an instinctual level. It only took him a few tries to create a stable cylinder around his nail and lengthen it until it matched a rifle¡¯s barrel.

    ¡°Now comes the hard part,¡± Arc warned. ¡°The Recoil Fist usually expands from your entire hand. You have to keep it limited to your finger.¡±

    ¡°Do I focus its power?¡± Yuan asked.

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    ¡°No, you must it. The Recoil Fist¡¯s energy travels from your bullet-core along its roots all the way to your palm. Tune the output to a minimum. Too much power will destroy your own projectile otherwise.¡±

    Yuan never tried this, since he never needed to. He pointed his loaded finger gun at the sun and looked into himself. Passing the moonburn trial enhanced his qi awareness enough that he could see the pathway connecting his bullet-core to his phalanges. He focused on one alone, then mentally the qi allocated to the technique before firing it.

    A faint pulse of power erupted from his core, traveled the length of his arm, then reached his index finger. The Recoil Fist¡¯s energies ignited the bullet¡¯s primer while remaining contained within the cylinder Barrier; it flowed forward like a wave pushing the projectile ahead at immense speed.

    His bullet flew across the length of his mentor¡¯s Authority in the blink of an eye.

    Yuan had succeeded on his first try.

    ¡°Good so far,¡± Arc said. ¡°You¡¯ve got a natural affinity for these techniques.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve used guns for so long, they feel like an extension of myself.¡±

    ¡°It shows,¡± his mentor replied, albeit without any fondness. ¡°Can you think of another use for that Barrier?¡±

    Yuan thought it over before finding one. He formed another Barrier cylinder, albeit one that encircled his entire hand instead of his finger alone. The increased radius would prevent him from firing bullets, but he had no intention of using one. Instead, he crafted the Barrier to fully contain his Recoil Fist¡¯s shockwave so it wouldn¡¯t disperse.

    Yuan pointed his enclosed palm at the gunsmoke clouds hanging over the Headshot Forge.

    Unlike with Sniper¡¯s Bore, Yuan didn¡¯t reduce his output and used the same amount of power he usually afforded to a normal Recoil Fist. His qi poured out of his core along the length of his arm and finally exploded into a shockwave when it reached the palm. S?a??h th? Nov?lF?re .??t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Yuan flew.

    A powerful blast of air erupted from Yuan¡¯s palm in a mighty supersonic boom. The cylinder Barrer canalized the pulse into a focused shockwave of compressed air. It blew a hole into the gunsmoke cloud in an instant.

    But it worked a bit well.

    While the Barrier held the blast as it was designed to, the backlash proved terrible. The recoil traveled back along the length of Yuan¡¯s arm and threw him backward. It was like firing a cannon with his bare hands without ground support. He ended up crashing against Arc¡¯s workbench at full speed, the shock sending discarded bullets falling to the ground.

    ¡°It always happens to us the first time, clever boy,¡± Arc teased him. She seemed more amused by his fall than anything. ¡°That¡¯s the Recoil Blast. It covers a smaller area than the Recoil Fist and it has a much smaller range than Sniper¡¯s Bore, but as you can see, it packs a mean punch.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, the part lived up to its name.¡± Yuan grit his teeth. His entire arm felt sore from the wrist down even after his cylinder Barrier disappeared. He might have shattered his bones had he overdone that shot. ¡°I¡¯m still beholden to momentum¡¯s laws. No dispersion means I take the full blowback.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll need set-up before you can use that technique,¡± Arc warned him as she offered him her hand. ¡°You have all the tools you need already to fine-tune it.¡±

    ¡°By forming a Barrier at my back to avoid falling?¡± Yuan asked as his mentor helped lift him up. ¡°Or by optimizing the cylinder?¡±

    She shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re smart, figure it out.¡±

    Yuan was starting to see a pattern there. ¡°I¡¯ve noticed something,¡± he said. ¡°So far, you¡¯ve encouraged me to figure out techniques on my own rather than simply me how to practice them.¡±

    Arc sneered. ¡°Cultivators who don¡¯t experiment and push their limits are doomed to perish. Few of them learn how to .¡±

    Yuan never considered that approach. What little he had seen of Sect training involved endless drills, spars, and lessons.

    Arc¡¯s approach appealed to him more than the Stoneskin Sect¡¯s lessons ever did.

    ¡°You¡¯ve proven you can handle yourself, so I¡¯ll return your weapons to you.¡± Arc tossed him back both the Saint Heckler and Kalash Angel. ¡°You¡¯ll have to figure out what they can do in the field.¡±

    ¡°I may have to test them soon,¡± Yuan replied. ¡°I¡¯ve got some cargo to deliver back to Fleshmarket.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen that.¡± Arc didn¡¯t bother to hide her distaste. ¡°You understand these bullets you¡¯ve crafted will kill innocent people too, right?¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± Yuan conceded, though he felt neither shame nor guilt. ¡°If you could observe my moon trial from so far away, then you¡¯ve seen the people I¡¯m traveling with. One of them is a Human Pillar, a Hitobashira.¡±

    Arc¡¯s expression darkened slightly. ¡°I¡¯ve seen.¡±

    ¡°The Flesh Mansion Sect robbed her of her freedom, and would have taken her life had I not intervened. The Metallists are barely any better. I¡¯m of these people getting away with everything. If they want to kill each other so badly, I¡¯ll oblige.¡±

    ¡°So that¡¯s your plan? Sell ammo to both sides and hope they wipe out each other?¡± Arc scowled. ¡°You would have been better served infiltrating one of the sides and destroying it from within, or strategically taking out a few important figures like dominos. That would minimize casualties.¡±

    ¡°Too late for that,¡± Yuan replied. ¡°The situation in Fleshmarket is a powderkeg. The sect war can start anytime, and everyone with sense has likely evacuated already. This ammo run is the best I can do right in the current circumstances.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯ll just plant seeds and hope they bloom the right way?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Yuan spat at the ground. ¡°I know many bystanders will die, but the more the sects kill each other, the more it¡¯ll weaken their grip on the region. Maybe some good will come out of it one day.¡±

    ¡°Spoken like a true son of the Gun.¡± Arc snorted. ¡°And that¡¯s not a compliment.¡±

    ¡°What would you have me do then?¡±

    ¡°Nothing,¡± Arc replied with fatalism. ¡°Even if your half-assed plan works, another Sect will just fill the void and the cycle will begin all over again. You can try to purge them off the Unmade World all you want. They¡¯ll come crawling back like cockroaches, as they always do.¡±

    Yuan knew it was a possibility. Fleshmarket¡¯s choice location and vital infrastructure would make it a tempting target for warlords and power-hungry cultivators seeking to control the Fanged Coast¡¯s trade. He couldn¡¯t guarantee that he would succeed in eliminating the sects in power there, let alone that someone worse wouldn¡¯t take over.

    But Yuan never rolled a die expecting to know the result. Hope for the best, expect the worst.

    ¡°Maybe this is gonna sound stupid,¡± Yuan said. ¡°But if you don¡¯t try to change things¡­ then they never will, no?¡±

    Arc responded with a long, heavy moment of silence, and then a word of warning. ¡°There are no winners when powerful cultivators fight; only .¡±

    Yuan could live with that. He wanted sides to lose.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be back soon,¡± Yuan promised.

    ¡°Return to me with a qi pill or not at all,¡± Arc warned him sternly. ¡°Those lessons were just to pick you up to speed. You¡¯ll need to cross the Third Coil before I teach you the stuff.¡±

    She knew how to motivate him at least. ¡°I¡¯ve seen the shape of my soul,¡± he said. ¡°Bullet Hell. The Moonlight cultivator said it was the Path my soul wished to take.¡±

    ¡°There are Paths within Paths,¡± Arc replied. ¡°I¡¯ve told you that the Gun branches out into many roads. The one you¡¯ve seen is but one of many.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s yours then?"

    ¡°Can¡¯t you tell?¡± Arc returned to her bullet forging. ¡°.¡±

 Chapter 33: Boom Party

    ¡°Are you sure, Orient?¡± Yuan asked as he readied the Kalash Angel. ¡°It might blow a hole in your walls for all we know.¡±The front wagon was empty save for the two of them, and of course the captive centidead Orient caught and nailed to a metal panel to use as a target. The creature bitterly snapped its mandibles at its captors in vain.

    ¡°I will be fine, Honored Guest Yuan,¡± Orient reassured him. ¡°While I respect your abilities, I doubt any of your weapons can truly damage me beyond my ability to repair myself. You may fire at will.¡±

    Although Orient struggled to express human emotions, Yuan did notice the satisfied smile at the edge of her lips. She was looking forward to him blasting the centidead apart. Considering how they had infested the spirit-train once the rad-hag that spawned her, he guessed that she took no small amount of satisfaction in their demise.

    Yuan thought as he aimed at the centidead with the Kalash Angel.

    Now that he could create ammunition at will, Yuan was willing to spare a few rounds for testing. The baggage wagon now housed tens of thousands of ammunition as valuable cargo. Various types of cartridges designed with the Bullet Church¡¯s schematics slept inside luggage chests in the treasure car, which was more than enough to resupply everyone with a gun in Fleshmarket.

    Bucket had been right in the end; once Yuan figured out the trick, he only had to sit down to harvest bullets from the ground. His Item Materialization skill was only limited by the flow of ambient qi and the earth¡¯s resources. He produced an output of a dozen cartridges a minute once he set his mind to it.

    Selling ammunition might prove more lucrative than any courier work.

    Yuan aimed at the centidead with the Kalash Angel and fired a volley. His qi coursed through his weapon the moment he pressed the trigger and shot four rounds in total. One hit the creature straight in the head and blew it to pieces.

    The others vanished through the metal panel.

    Yuan blinked in surprise as his rounds simply disappeared into the steel. They produced no impact and left no traces.

    ¡°Did the rounds merge with the plating?¡± he asked Orient.

    ¡°They went it,¡± Orient clarified after examining the scene. The centidead¡¯s blood on the floor hardly seemed to bother her. ¡°And through the walls beyond it too.¡±

    ¡°They phased through solid objects?¡± Yuan asked with a frown. ¡°Like ghosts?¡±

    ¡°This would be my theory.¡± Orient studied the centidead¡¯s wounds. The bullet that killed it remained squarely lodged in its flesh. ¡°Since your projectiles hit this vermin, I suspect that they ignore inorganic matter.¡± S?a??h the N?v?lFir?(.)n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Yuan couldn¡¯t help but chuckle at the irony. ¡°We used armor-piercing rounds, and now we have armor- rounds.¡±

    That wordplay sounded way better in his head, but it delighted Orient nonetheless. ¡°Indeed,¡± she replied. ¡°I hope this will prove helpful in your battles to come.¡±

    Yuan could see a few ways to make use of this peculiar property. While few cultivators used armor and qi-charged gun bullets could usually pierce through their defenses anyway, targeting an enemy through walls might let him land surprise attacks.

    Yuan decided to test the Saint Heckler next when the wagon¡¯s door opened. Holster walked through it with a big bright smile, a paper sheet in one hand and a revolver in another. She happily walked up to Yuan with a beaming smile while ignoring the dead centidead in the room.

    ¡°What is it, Holster?¡± Yuan asked. His charge proudly offered him the revolver, which he studied more closely. Besides sutra scripts carved along its barrel and cylinder, it looked completely ordinary. ¡°This is for me?¡±

    ¡°Have you finally completed it, Miss Holster?¡± Orient asked Holster with what could pass for motherly pride. ¡°It looks very pretty.¡±

    Yuan recognized tiny scratches along the gun. ¡°Wait,¡± he said in disbelief, his mind putting two and two together. ¡°This is revolver. The one I blew up fighting the rad-hag.¡±

    Holster nodded proudly, which led Orient to smile ear to ear. ¡°This is the gift I mentioned earlier. Miss Holster used feng shui and sutras to restore it to its previous condition.¡±

    ¡°I, uh¡­¡± Yuan had faced cultivators in battle without fear, yet he found himself stammering. He remained unused to kindness. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to say, Holster¡­ except thank you, I guess...¡±

    Yuan wasn¡¯t a sentimental person, but this gun held a special place in his heart. It had been a gift from Revolver after he rose from the ditch Slash put him in and the first firearm he received as a Gunsoul. In a way, it represented his first step in the world of cultivators.

    Holster beamed with happiness, which only served to embarrass Yuan further and amuse Orient. He had no idea how to deal with gifts and gratitude, so he settled on patting Holster on the head very gently. His charge blushed slightly and then pointed to the scripts carved on its steel.

    Yuan studied them carefully and then channeled qi through the weapon. As he suspected, the revolver¡¯s sutras resonated with his power as it coursed through the metal. His power usually spread equally across the entire gun, but it instead split six ways in each of the chambers this time.

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    Yuan sensed his qi change the bullets within them. His power altered the loaded projectiles in five subtly different forms: the first gained the texture of thick, furiously festering bark; the second became hot, filled with the warm frenzy of a wildfire; the third adopted the texture of strong, ancient stone; the fourth melded with sorrowful metal; and the fifth became moist like water and cold like fearful ice. Only the sixth chamber behaved normally, with his qi remaining in its natural, formless state once it infused the bullet within.

    ¡°Are these the five elements?¡± Yuan asked as he stopped channeling his qi through the revolver. The bullets immediately returned to normal afterward. Holster modified the revolver to alter his qi elemental affinity once it entered a chamber. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ impressive. I¡¯m sure it will come in handy.¡±

    Holster nodded proudly and then presented him with her handwritten sheet of paper next. The combination of diagrams and sutra scripts scribbled on it gave Yuan a headache, so Holster vaguely explained its meaning with a series of mudras and hand signs.

    ¡°This will help the rifle¡­ girl?¡± Yuan translated. ¡°You mean Arc?¡±

    Holster nodded sharply. It pleased Yuan that he was getting better at understanding her, but he failed to grasp the sutra script¡¯s significance.

    Orient kindly translated its contents for him.

    ¡°Miss Holster is a Human ,¡± she reminded him. ¡°Her kind was first created to strengthen and stabilize an area¡¯s feng shui. Miss Holster believes she could serve a similar purpose on behalf of Miss Arc.¡±

    Yuan clenched his jaw at Holster. ¡°We aren¡¯t burying you alive inside Arc¡¯s Authority.¡±

    Holster shook her head reassuringly, then mimicked walking with a limp.

    ¡°A¡­ crutch?¡± Yuan translated.

    ¡°From what I read, Miss Holster thinks she could use sutra scripts to bind herself to your honored mentor¡¯s bullet-core and serve as its living anchor,¡± Orient explained. ¡°Miss Holster would have to remain in Miss Arc¡¯s close vicinity at all times, but she wouldn¡¯t need to sacrifice her life.¡±

    Yuan frowned in skepticism. He didn¡¯t think the idea hadn¡¯t crossed Arc¡¯s mind at some point; or if she did consider it, she might have refused it on principle. ¡°It can¡¯t be easy.¡±

    ¡°Miss Holster¡¯s idea is highly theoretical,¡± Orient conceded, much to the poor girl¡¯s chagrin. ¡°The process would be fraught with failures, and likely suppress most of Miss Arc¡¯s qi. I cannot foretell the consequences yet.¡±

    ¡°You do understand that even if it works, you may spend the rest of your life tending to that woman?¡± Yuan asked Holster. ¡°Her deal is with me alone. You don¡¯t owe her anything.¡±

    Holster chewed her lip, yet remained resolute. She nodded at Yuan, though he remained unsure whether she truly fathomed the consequences of her choice. In her mind, she had a chance to help someone in a similar situation to her own. That was enough for Holster to give away part of her life.

    She had a good heart, but Yuan couldn¡¯t tell whether that was a good or bad thing in this world.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to ask Arc herself,¡± Yuan warned Holster. He hoped¨Cnay, he ¨Cthat his mentor would dissuade her. She seemed to have made peace with her fate and eventual death.

    Orient¡¯s back suddenly straightened up, her eyes burning with light. Her reaction troubled Yuan, for she had reacted the same way when she identified the Ammobog as an Authority.

    ¡°Trouble on the road?¡± he asked.

    ¡°I see Fleshmarket,¡± Orient replied with a scowl. ¡°And plumes of smoke rising in the sky from the city.¡±

    Yuan¡¯s bullet-core pounded in his skull. He rushed to the nearest window, opened it, and took a peek at the world beyond. Dust blew in his face along with the smell of charred meat.

    True to Orient¡¯s word, Fleshmarket rose in the distance with clouds of smoke floating above its ancient buildings. Its walls had changed since Yuan¡¯s last visit. Roots of festering flesh spread on its stones while green screens on metal frames grew on its steel like electronic flowers. Yuan immediately recognized the latter as a screen city¡¯s extension. The Metallist Sect must have found a way to spread their Wayfinder¡¯s Broadcast. If so, then the organic tissue was probably a Flesh Mansion Sect bioweapon of some kind.

    The party had started without them.

    Not too long ago though; Yuan would have expected a lot more fires otherwise, and the city walls, while compromised in some areas, remained mostly intact.

    This complicated matters. If Yuan led a sect, then one of his priorities would be to raid the Bullet Church¡¯s armory for weapons. No point in giving them space and respecting their neutrality now that hostilities started. They would get caught in the crossfire if they headed there.

    Then again, it could also play into Yuan¡¯s hands. Considering the Metallists had a Gunsoul eager to ascend through the Third Coil in their ranks and who was familiar with the Bullet Church, then this Gatling Man would likely lead the charge. That would offer Yuan a chance to grab his bullet-core.

    The door to the wagon opened again, with Bucket and his fellow cultists rushing in. From their panicked eyes and expressions¡ªthose that Yuan could see at least¡ªthey had seen the smoke.

    ¡°Sir, sir! This is terrible! ¡± Bucket seemed well and truly at a loss. ¡°Fleshmarket is burning! This is a disaster!¡±

    ¡°I am sorry,¡± Yuan replied. He guessed that for all of its awfulness, Fleshmarket remained their home.

    ¡°It¡¯s awful! ¡± Bucket held his helmet in his hands and maniacally shook his head. ¡°A legendary gunfight has started, and we¡¯re it!¡±

    On second thought, Yuan should have expected something like this. One of the cultists did surprise him by kneeling at his feet in prayer.

    ¡°Sir Gunsoul, please take us back!¡± the man begged. ¡°My family lives in the city!¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re already dead!¡± one of his more rational colleagues complained. ¡°It¡¯s a miracle we dodged that bullet, and you want to jump back into it?! It¡¯s a goddamn Sect War! They¡¯ll level half of Fleshmarket by the time the dust settles! I say we cut our losses and move on!¡±

    Bucket answered his cowardice with accusations. ¡°Blank!¡± he shouted while pointing a finger at the dissenter. ¡°Blank, blank, !¡±

    ¡°What do we do, Honored Guest Yuan?¡± Orient asked him with a slight frown. ¡°Do I turn back, or do we drive on?¡±

    Yuan considered his options. He had given Bucket his word he would take the cultists back to Fleshmarket, and while he owed the city nothing, he wouldn¡¯t mind taking a few Scrap families away from cultivator battles. Besides, the opportunity to grab a pill or bullet-core was too good to pass on.

    ¡°Can you circle the city from the east?¡± he asked Orient.

    ¡°I can. You wish to approach the Bullet Church from that side?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Yuan glanced at Bucket. ¡°Will your allies attack us if we close in from that direction?¡±

    ¡°Of course not, sir!¡± Bucket searched under his cloak and drew out a flare gun. ¡°The smoke of truth shall warn them that the faithful bullets have returned to their chambers!¡±

    ¡°Then we¡¯ll enter the city from the east.¡± Yuan glanced at Holster next, who stared back at him with apprehension. ¡°You stay onboard with Orient. Whatever you do, avoid looking at the screens and touch them, . Otherwise, they¡¯ll pull into a place you¡¯ll never escape from. Understood?¡±

    Holster nodded quietly. Truthfully, she looked more concerned for Yuan than for herself; and she was probably right to think that.

    This would be a hard-fought day.

 Chapter 34: Gatling Man

    Yuan and the Gun cultists stood atop the spirit-train as it closed in on Fleshmarket.Distant booms and the echoes of gunfire grew stronger the more they approached the city, as did the smell of blood and death. The corroded metal wall protecting eastern Fleshmarket trembled under the searing crimson sky. Its strategically placed gun turrets had mostly turned inwards, its technicians firing at foes the city rather than at the wasteland¡¯s many dangers. Scrap gunmen fought back against humans with cybernetic enhancements and robots with screens for heads trying to storm their defenses from inside Fleshmarket.

    The Metallists had made their move. They had sent forces to seize the Bullet Church¡¯s weaponry for themselves, as Yuan suspected.

    Yuan came prepared. Boiled centidead plates covered his chest, arms, and legs. The Kalash Angel was strapped to his back, the revolver holstered to his belt, while the Saint Heckler waited in his hands.

    He expected an assault soon. The spirit-train would make too tempting a target for the attackers to ignore.

    ¡°Here goes nothing, sir!¡± Bucket pointed his flare gun at the sky and pulled the trigger. A bright pyrotechnic projectile erupted from the barrel, flew upward in the sky, and exploded in a bright red cloud. ¡°The faithful shall recognize their own!¡±

    ¡°As will our enemies,¡± Yuan replied. A set of metal gates at the bottom of the fortified walls slowly began to open to allow the spirit-train through. ¡°Load your irons, boys. They¡¯re coming.¡±

    It hardly took a minute for a welcoming committee to intercept them.

    A group of Metallists storming the walls leaped into the void and flew towards the spirit-train. Yuan counted half a dozen cyborgs wearing softly glowing helmets and talon-shaped thrusters for shoes. Their most striking feature were the rotary blades attached to their right hands. They spun at blinding speed with a low hum fast enough to allow them to fly. The soldiers¡¯ left hands, meanwhile, instead carried weapons from shotguns to submachine guns. Their equipment varied from well-maintained to shoddy scavenged parts strapped together.

    They didn¡¯t fly alone either. A set of compact, head-sized mechanical drones followed them closely. Their rugged shape sported a central green screen, plenty of rotors to keep them afloat, and a small nail gun between sets of tiny metal legs.

    Yuan loved moving targets.

    ¡°Fire at will!¡± he shouted to his allies.

    Yuan charged his Saint Heckler¡¯s bullets with qi and opened fire at the cyborgs first. His projectiles shattered a soldier¡¯s rotary blade, bounced off it, and then hit the user through their visor. The poor bastard went crashing down onto the ground below.

    Bucket shouted some nonsensical Gun sermon as he and his fellow cultists followed Yuan¡¯s example. The cyborgs fired back with their long-range rifles and shotguns while the drones moved closer to the ground in an attempt to avoid the hailfire. The two groups exchanged fire from across a wide distance, the gulf between them quickly shrinking the closer the spirit-train approached the walls.

    While the cultists weren¡¯t bad shots by any means, Yuan did most of the heavy lifting. His range was greater, his gunplay better, and his bullets more effective. He shot two drones, his projectiles bounced off them, hitting the nearest flying cyborg squarely in the chest, and then veering off again in the distance.

    It seemed that qi-charged submachine gun bullets ricocheted after hitting their targets. Situationally useful, but quite disappointing at the moment. Yuan would trade that ability for greater firepower anytime.

    The group had downed half the drones, but the survivors managed to reach their wagon. A five-machine strong squadron flew across the spirit-train¡¯s length and fired nails at them wantonly. Yuan activated his Elemental Infusion to coat his skin in steel and easily stopped the projectiles, but his allies proved less fortunate.

    One of the cultists took nails to the face and Bucket a nail volley in his helmet. The former collapsed on the ground bleeding and screaming, his face skewered with steel, while the latter¡¯s armor spared him an early grave once again.

    ¡°Stay behind me!¡± Yuan ordered his allies. Using his body as a shield to protect them, he raised a hand at the incoming drones and activated his Recoil Fist. The shockwave blew the drones to pieces, their scrapped remains falling off the spirit-train. S?a??h the N0??F?re.n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Only two cyborgs remained. They closed onto the train while Yuan¡¯s allies surrounded their wounded comrade. Yuan raised his Saint Heckler to down them both when he heard a distant shot.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    A shining bullet pulverized the two cyborgs in an instant.

    Yuan¡¯s enhanced cultivator senses picked up a bullet piercing them one after the other, but no normal bullet would blast off two men¡¯s torsos in a row. Their aimless rotary blades caused their remains to crash onto the spirit-train windows and facade, their oily blood and cybernetic limbs falling off.

    ¡°Sir, look!¡± Bucket shouted in happy zeal. ¡°A metal angel!¡±

    Yuan glanced at the source of the bullet. A cloud of dust arose over the horizon as a familiar vehicle caught up to the spirit-train at phenomenal speed. A cruiser with blazing wheels rode across the wastes, its skull-headed rider firing in the air to announce his arrival.

    Yuan¡¯s bullet-core pounded in his skull when he recognized his savior.

    ¡°Yuan?!¡± Revolver cackled to himself and drove his cruiser alongside the spirit-train, right beneath Yuan¡¯s wagon. His vehicle roared like a rampaging demon, its wheels blazing bright. ¡°It¡¯s been a while! Is this spirit-train yours?!¡±

    ¡°Yep!¡± Yuan replied while Bucket fell to his knees in prayer. The presence of two Gunsouls in close vicinity was too much for his heart to bear. ¡°What are you doing here?!¡±

    ¡°Came to wreck slavers and raise some hell, but I found the party started early!¡± Revolver replied. Of course he would hunt near Fleshmarket. Yuan recalled he wanted to storm the city when they first met. ¡°You?!¡±

    ¡°Same!¡± Yuan reloaded his Saint Heckler. ¡°Wanna team up?!¡±

    ¡°Attaboy!¡± Revolver¡¯s chuckle rang louder than gunfire. ¡°I¡¯m here to cross Elder Polio¡¯s name off my kill list, but I don¡¯t mind filling a few more graves!¡±

    A mighty blast erupted over the eastern wall. Yuan looked at it to see a pillar of smoke rise over it and one of its mounted cannons falling off it. His enhanced senses detected a powerful source of qi hiding within the fumes; the signs of a powerful cultivator, with an aura of fire and steel.

    Yuan had a good idea of who it belonged to, and the projectiles surging from the smoke only confirmed his hypothesis.

    A volley of qi-charged rockets aimed for the spirit-train.

    Revolver, quicker on the draw, opened fire at them first. Yuan followed his example, their bullets flying to intercept the projectiles. They managed to hit a few and detonated them in midair in blinding flashes of fire and light, but missed two of them. One landed in the wasteland and left a small crater in its wake; the other hit the passenger wagon in a cataclysmic blast. The roof exploded, shrapnel and glass shards flying everywhere, while the entire spirit-train shook along its length.

    Yuan suppressed a sigh of relief. Holster was hidden in the engine room with Orient, and the projectile had missed the luggage wagon. Both his allies and cargo were safe, for now.

    ¡°Can I ask you to escort the spirit-train inside Fleshmarket?!¡± Yuan asked Revolver. ¡°We¡¯re going to evacuate civilians if we can!¡±

    ¡°Sure!¡± Revolver replied. ¡°How about you storm the walls while I stay on the ground?! My motorcycle can¡¯t exactly fly!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the plan,¡± Yuan replied. He knew exactly who awaited him atop the wall, and that he had to face that foe on his own. He thanked Revolver before giving Bucket a tap on the back. ¡°Help Orient repair the damage and take all the non-combatants you can find onboard the spirit-train.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir!¡± Bucket gave him a salute. ¡°What about you, sir?¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t be long.¡±

    Yuan stretched his legs and then leaped off the train.

    The Recoil Fist¡¯s energy coursed through elementally infused steel flesh and burst from his feet. His shoes shattered into pieces while the blast propelled him upward. Having crossed the Second Coil and overcome the moonburns eliminated the terrible backslash that wounded him whenever he used this technique in the past, allowing him to use it multiple times in a row.

    And thus, Yuan .

    He jumped across the air, riding the recoil shockwaves of his own ability again and again. His first bound sent him ten meters into the air with a supersonic boom; the second lifted him around two-thirds the wall¡¯s height; and the third let him leap over it. He landed atop the meters-thick fortifications with such force that the steel beneath him cracked under his weight.

    It felt good to be strong.

    Yuan observed his surroundings. He had landed right above the opened gates, which the spirit-train had started crossing already. A long platform of steel sprawled out from both sides of him, although thick smoke rising from a destroyed mounted cannon partly obscured his vision on his right. The smell of spent ammunition hung in the air while shattered concrete debris, dismembered Scrap corpses, and destroyed borgs lay all around him. The Bullet Church defended the spot to the last man and failed anyway.

    Their killer awaited Yuan, a lone mech surrounded by dead men.

    The steel behemoth in front of Yuan was about twice his size, a cyborg colossus encased in beige metal plates. He would have mistaken the man for a machine, if not for his partially exposed organic head. Only the upper part of his skull was still at least made of bone, the jaw replaced with tubes and cables likely connecting the brain to the body¡¯s mainframe. His pale gray, silicon eyes peered at Yuan with a predator¡¯s focus.

    The borg packed quite the arsenal too. His broad, reinforced shoulders boasted a set of mounted rocket launchers and other cannon weapons that Yuan didn¡¯t recognize. His enormous hands firmly gripped a massive gatling gun longer than an adult man. His armor bore inch-deep scars and scorched burn marks that did little to reduce his aura of overwhelming strength.

    This guy was a one.

    ¡°Gatling Man, I presume?¡± Yuan asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s good you showed up on your own, Gunsoul,¡± the cyborg answered, his voice twisted by a vocal modulator. He raised his trademark gatling at Yuan with a single hand. ¡°I was gonna hunt you down anyway.¡±

    ¡°Same,¡± Yuan replied coldly. He raised his submachine gun at the cyborg and prepared to fire, only for both duelists to freeze in place.

    They¡¯d both sensed it.

    That oppressive, aura approaching them.

    ¡°Fancy meeting you here, boys.¡±

    A man in tattered clothes stepped out of the plume of smoke, his hand dragging a bisected cyborg¡¯s torso across the wall. He let go of his prize, stretched his neck, and then adopted a fighting stance.

    ¡°Room for one more?¡± Gayak asked, a sadistic smile stretching on his cruel face.

 Chapter 35: The Gun, the Guts and the Gatling

    The tension in the air was thicker than gunsmoke.On his left stood Gatling Man, his namesake loaded and ready to fire at the first provocation. On his right was Gayak, who carried himself with the easy nonchalance and predatory menace of a spirit-tiger about to pounce.

    The three cultivators observed one another, none of them making the first move. Yuan swiftly grabbed his Kalash Angel with his left hand and wielded his Saint Heckler with the right, each weapon pointed at a different foe. Neither of them attacked. Doing so would open them to retaliation from the other parties.

    They were at an impasse¡­ .

    Gatling Man broke the silence first. ¡°You¡¯ve got guts showing up alone, fleshcrafter trash.¡±

    ¡°Why would Elder Polio to send anyone else?¡± Gayak lazily grabbed his tattered rags and tossed them to the ground, now wearing only a pair of shorts. ¡°You tin cans are all so .¡±

    Yuan suppressed a shiver of disgust. Gayak¡¯s ashen skin was a mess of stitches and sutures, his pallid limbs having been attached to his torso through surgery rather than naturally grown. Four snakelike yellow eyes replaced the nipples on his thin chest, a bronze chain coiled around them. As for his stomach, it didn¡¯t hide . A bloody hole stretched from his shorts to his ribcage, with a set of coiling purple tentacles squirming where his intestines should have been.

    Gatling Man scoffed in disdain. ¡°Big talk from trash who needs to steal the flesh of slaves for strength.¡±

    ¡°It would have been wiser for you to skip town, stranger,¡± Gayak told Yuan as he stretched his legs. Though he seemed utterly unintimidated, Yuan could see the razor-sharp focus in his posture. The eyes of his chest constantly darted between him and Gatling Man. ¡°I suppose you haven¡¯t come back to join us?¡±

    Yuan briefly considered lying in order to take down Gatling Man first, but something told him Gayak would immediately pick up on it. Besides, he knew himself. Mingxia told him he had the charisma of a stone wall.

    Yuan pointed his Heckler at Gayak¡¯s chest. ¡°I¡¯ll pass.¡±

    ¡°A shame, but I was hoping you¡¯d say that.¡± Gayak¡¯s manic, yellow smirk oozed bloodthirst and malevolence. ¡°I¡¯ve never killed a Gunsoul before, let alone two of them.¡±

    ¡°And you never will,¡± Gatling Man replied, his minigun ready to fire. ¡°I¡¯ll slaughter the both of you, and your deaths will free me from the Gun¡¯s curse.¡±

    The tension sharpened even further. Yuan gripped his weapons tighter, as did Gatling Man with his own. Gayak adjusted his posture, crouching slightly and extending his fingers as if they were claws.

    Yuan¡¯s bullet-core pounded like a heart in his skull. He had the feeling that Gayak was primarily a close-range threat from the way he stretched his muscles, so keeping him at a distance should be his top priority. Gatling Man¡¯s minigun was powerful, but could only attack one of his foes at a time with their current positioning; his shoulder weapons did remain an unknown factor. Considering that Gayak was his sect elder¡¯s apprentice and Yuan was a fellow Gunsoul, whose powers he shared, he would likely consider the former the greater threat.

    Yuan had a pretty good idea of how the first strike would resolve and planned accordingly.

    he counted in his head, all the duelists moving subtly.

    Gatling Man opened fire at Gayak with a mechanical roar.

    Yuan, who had anticipated this development, attacked Gatling Man with both of his weapons. Meanwhile, Gayak struck the ground with his fist at blinding speed. A line-shaped Barrier arose in response to the impact, creating a shining wall against which the hail of bullets shattered and flattened.

    The Saint Heckler and Kalash Angel unleashed their volleys at Gatling Man. The former¡¯s bullets harmlessly bounced off his qi-empowered metal armor; as for the latter, they phased through his metallic body. of them.

    Including the ones aiming for his head.

    The seemingly organic skull was just as artificial as the rest of the walking oven.

    Yuan raged while charging at Gatling Man to engage him in melee, where his heavy minigun would be an impediment.

    A Gunsoul¡¯s life was tied to their bullet-core, but as Arc proved, they didn¡¯t all need to be shot in the head to rise from the dead. Gatling Man¡¯s skull was a decoration, an enticing target meant to fool enemies into focusing on it and wasting precious time.

    In Yuan¡¯s case, this helped him confirm that his enemy likely had no biological components left to speak of. His bullet-core could be located in his body too. Yuan focused on his foe¡¯s flow of qi in an attempt to locate its source, but Gatling Man¡¯s energies flowed through his metal armor as an impenetrable wall obscuring his occult sight.

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    Since striking at the usual vital spots wouldn¡¯t do much, Yuan decided to focus on his enemy¡¯s joints. He closed the gap between them before Gatling Man could reposition his weapon quickly enough and jumped at him with his feet extended, a Recoil Kick ready to trigger.

    A familiar clicking sound echoed across the air, and Gatling Man¡¯s body moved out of the way.

    He didn¡¯t jump, twist, or step to the side, no. His entire body was propelled five meters to his right, like a doll pushed aside by an invisible force. It was unnerving to watch.

    Yuan¡¯s eyes widened in surprise as he landed on an empty spot. He recognized the familiar, clicking noise of the Recoil Fist, but Gatling Man used neither his hands nor feet.

    He didn¡¯t have time to question it for long. While Gayak rushed at them with bone swords surging from his wrists, Gatling Man¡¯s shoulders opened up to reveal rows of missile launchers.

    Realizing the danger, Yuan hastily did a Recoil Kick and propelled himself backward. He intentionally leapt off the wall and into the city with a swarm of small rockets flying after him. The rest of them bombed the encroaching Gayak, though Yuan couldn¡¯t tell if any of them hit him.

    Yuan let himself fall down the wall and shot at the missiles with the Saint Heckler. His enhanced reflexes and accuracy let him hit them all, their blasts echoing in bursts of smoke and fire. S?a?ch* Th? Nov?lF?re .??t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Yuan quickly took a look at the world below. The spirit-train had entered the city beneath him, with Revolver blowing a path forward through makeshift barricades and Metallist cyborgs alike. Fleshmarket looked like a mess, with fleshy abominations rampaging through the streets amidst growing screen-faced towers and drones. A few fires spread across the landscape and threatened to worsen into an inferno that would engulf the city.

    A rain of violent gunfire forced Yuan to focus. Gatling Man fell through his exploded missiles¡¯ smoke, his minigun pointing at him. What it lacked in accuracy, it more than made up for in sheer cadence and firepower. A few of his projectiles hit Yuan¡¯s armored breastplate with enough strength to leave an impact and inflict damage. Without the centidead armor softening the impact and Elemental Infusion reinforcing his skin underneath, he would have been torn apart; and it hurt like even with it. Worse, Gayak followed closely after Gatling Man, though he was vertically sliding down the wall rather than falling into the void.

    Yuan quickly looked around mid-fall and noticed the Bullet Church¡¯s base to his left. Its outer perimeters and fortifications had been breached by advancing Metallist soldiers, but Scrap gunmen still held the central building.

    Yuan first slammed into Fleshmarket¡¯s wall with a Recoil Kick, redirecting his fall and propelling himself towards the Bullet Church. This helped him briefly escape Gatling Man¡¯s line of fire, calculate a good angle, and retaliate with the Saint Heckler. Gatling Man easily deflected most projectiles with his hand, but a few ricocheted off the wall and hit his left eye. The hit caused Gatling Man to briefly stop firing.

    He didn¡¯t dodge the direct attack, which meant his Recoil technique must either have a downside or cost a lot of qi to activate. Yuan guessed his enemy was trying to pace himself since he would have to keep up some power to fight Gayak with. This left him open to sneak and surprise attacks.

    Gatling Man should have also run out of bullets by now too, or at least started pacing himself. Miniguns couldn¡¯t sustain their rate of fire for long. Even if Gatling Man could replenish his stock with Item Materialization, he would have needed to stop to refill his reserves.

    Maybe that was the minigun¡¯s special Gunsoul ability? A bottomless magazine?

    Leaving Gatling Man behind, Yuan used repeated Recoil Kicks to propel himself towards the Bullet Church. He was halfway there when he sensed something moist coiling around his weapons. He looked at them just in time to see that two of Gayak¡¯s intestine tentacles had lengthened across dozens of meters and grabbed his firearms. A third one of them had found a different target in Gatling Man¡¯s minigun.

    By the time Yuan realized the danger, his foe already tried to wrest his weapons away. Yuan first attempted to resist, but his firearms weren¡¯t designed to survive being pulled by two superhumanly strong cultivators in different directions. His Saint Heckler snapped in two like a twig.

    Fortunately, this allowed Yuan to free his right hand and punch the tentacle holding the Kalash Angel, but Gayak immediately recalled it before his enemy¡¯s fist could make contact. Meanwhile, Gatling Man had made the same mistake as Yuan earlier before by pulling back his weapon and accidentally shattering it. He roared in frustration, let go of his destroyed minigun, and then took a page from Yuan¡¯s book by flying after Gayak with a series of rapid-fire Recoil Kicks.

    Gayak dodged his pursuer by leaping off the wall and then running across the air itself. Arc had warned Yuan that someone could use their body as a support for Barriers, and the Flesh Mansion cultivator proved it. He created small ones from his hands and feet capable of repelling . They were hardly any larger than small disks, but they gave him physical support on which to run.

    Yuan pondered how their bout was going as the three pursued each other in midair. It would have been easier for Gayak to strike their ankles or more vital spots, but he instead went for more difficult targets.

    Gayak wisely focused on destroying his enemies¡¯ weapons, thus limiting their options and resources.

    Worse, his method of flight was less taxing than Yuan¡¯s. The Recoil Fist consumed his personal qi like any other technique, while Barriers drew upon ambient one. Gayak had hardly spent any energy since the fight started.

    Gayak seemed to be the most dangerous of Yuan¡¯s foes¡ªquicker, more skilled, smarter¡ªbut Gatling Man was no slouch either. These two were nothing like the rad-hag he fought in the Thunderlands or Toshiro. They were a cut above his opposition so far.

    Yuan would have been intimidated once, but today? Today, his body trembled with anticipation. At long last, he could put his new skills to the test against the best recruits their respective sects had to offer. They embodied the systems which had oppressed him, his fellow Scraps, and the likes of Holster.

    And today, Yuan Guang would .

 Chapter 36: Flesh vs Metal

    Yuan turned the chase on his pursuers once they reached the Bullet Church.Having led his enemies to where he wanted, Yuan abruptly pivoted in midair and then used a Recoil Kick to throw himself backward. He immediately followed through by opening fire at Gayak with the Kalash Angel.

    The Flesh Mansion Sect cultivator¡¯s method of flight was less taxing than Yuan¡¯s, but also slower. He had no choice other than to alter his Barriers and dodge to the side to avoid the projectiles.

    Gatling Man, who had been flying closely after Gayak, used the opportunity to catch up. Knowing the Kalash Angel¡¯s bullets would fly right through his metal body¡ªa fact Yuan used to bait him into attacking their mutual enemy¡ªhe simply ignored them and tackled Gayak from behind. The two crashed into the Bullet Church¡¯s courtyard amidst the Scraps and barricades in a violent impact.

    Unwilling to waste more qi powering his flight, Yuan landed atop the Bullet Church¡¯s roof. The smoking corpses of two dead Scraps lay there, assault rifles in hands; one had been shot in the head by nails, and the other blasted apart by an explosion.

    The situation below didn¡¯t look any better on the ground. Metallist forces had stormed the courtyard, smashing its statues, trampling its altars, and burning its empty weapon stands. Even the entrance¡¯s banner was now burning alongside the place¡¯s defenders. The few surviving cultists found themselves hunted by towering, humanoid robots with flickering TVs for heads; the humans they caught in their metal hands were shoved through their screen-faces like food thrown into a gullet. Their captives¡¯ minds would soon join the Magnum Opus¡¯ Broadcast, their faces naught but a flash on a channel.

    Gayak and Gatling Man had risen up to their feet after their crash. The former found himself surrounded by Metallist borgs while the latter opened two compartments hidden in his belt and drew out a handgun in each hand.

    Unintimidated, Gayak joined his palms in a lightning-fast series of mudras signs. ¡°Pushpaputa, Anjali, Ganesha, Pushan-Apan,¡± he said with a manic smirk. ¡°By this covenant, I call upon thy protection¨C¡±

    Both Yuan and Gatling Man tried to stop Gayak from completing the sequence by shooting at him. Gayak gracefully dodged the bullets by pivoting, his limbs and body twisting in unnatural ways. He finished his chant by slamming his hands on the ground with a final incantation.

    ¡°Demon Sumo, Asa-Zakura!¡±

    A swirl of mystical mist filled the courtyard, and a roaring giant sprung from it.

    Yuan¡¯s finger let go of his Kalash Angel¡¯s triggers in his astonishment. A towering, wretched monster had appeared out of nowhere, its skin a mottled blue-gray stretched over bulging muscles and oily fat. Yuan would put its size at around five meters; not enough to reach the Bullet Church¡¯s roof, but enough to reach up to it with its four-fingered hands. It was downright obese, with a pair of boar-like tusks sprouting from his bestial muzzle under blazing eyes. Draped over its massive body was a rich orange robe bound by a rope.

    An infernal. A bonafide .

    Yuan knew some sects bound karma demons, hunduns, and other creatures to serve their interests, but it always required lengthy and elaborate rituals. Yet Gayak proudly stood atop one¡¯s shoulders after summoning him in the thick of battle with hand signs.

    The so-called ¡®demon sumo¡¯ Asa-Zakura thrust its palm at the nearest cyborg with immense strength and flattened him into the courtyard¡¯s ground. Gatling Man and his men immediately swarmed the creature, either by firing at it with weapons or outright trying to climb up its immense body. As for Gayak himself, he used his summoned ally as a support platform to leap onto the roof and attack Yuan directly. Bone blades surged from his forearms in mid-flight.

    Yuan backflipped out of the way, only for Gayak to immediately rush at him the moment he made landfall. The Flesh Mansion Sect cultivator pursued his foe across the roof in a series of graceful dancing steps, his organic weapons whistling as they cut through the air.

    Yuan retaliated by stomping on the roof with a Recoil Kick and blasting a wave of stone at Gayak. He shot at his foe with the Kalash Angel at the same time, using the flying debris as cover to prevent his foe from anticipating their trajectory. This was for naught. Gayak stretched his limbs to dodge the shots while his blades cut through projectiles like butter.

    Yuan narrowly dodge one of Gayak¡¯s tentacles lunging at his face.

    Gayak suddenly changed his attack pattern, twisted his back, and rotated his arms. His bone blades brightened with searing heat which Yuan recognized as Elemental Infusion.

    Yuan might have been able to dodge this attack, if only Gayak¡¯s tentacles didn¡¯t surge from his stomach without warning. The intestine shot out at a bullet¡¯s speed and then retracted back inside the stomach at a quick, chaotic pace.

    Yuan could only pay attention to so many moving parts before he slipped up. One of the blades sliced through his centidead shell chest plate and the metal skin underneath deep enough to draw churning blood. Yuan bit his tongue to suppress a grunt of pain. Worse, the slash also cut his Kalash Angel in two.

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    The five elements followed a cycle of creation and destruction. Metal chopped wood, yet melted before fire¡¯s advance. Gayak¡¯s infusion could cut through his own easily enough.

    Gayak moved to land another blow, only to be forced to retreat as qi-charged bullets fired from the ground forced him to back down. Gatling Man was firing at him from below even as the demon sumo rampaged through his forces.

    Yuan saw his chance and took it.

    He threw away his broken Kalash Angel, grabbed his revolver with his right hand, and quickly formed mudras with his left. ¡°Tripataka, Shukatunda, Trishula¡­¡± Yuan clenched his teeth before charging his weapon with his qi. ¡°Archer¡¯s Glory.¡±

    A blazing bullet shot from its fire chamber like a crimson comet.

    Gayak gracefully leaped in the air to dodge the projectile, and he would have succeeded¡­ had the sutras¡¯ magic not bent the trajectory ever so slightly. The bullet hit him square in the chest in midair and exploded in a burst of fire with a rocket¡¯s strength. The blowback sent him flying across the roof near its edge, though he managed to land on his feet.

    ¡°You hit me!¡± Gayak laughed heartily. The gaping chest wound burning where his heart should have been didn¡¯t bother him in the slightest. ¡°You actually managed to hit !¡±

    Yuan leaned on the second hypothesis considering the Flesh Mansion Sect¡¯s specialties.

    ¡°On the roof!¡± Gatling Man shouted at his cybernetic allies before vanishing through the Bullet Church¡¯s entrance. ¡°Get them!¡±

    Yuan suppressed a scowl of anger as Gatling Man abandoned most of his colleagues to the rampaging demon. In spite of being reborn as a Gunsoul, he had become just as callous as any other sect disciple.

    Yuan barely had time to remove his now useless armor before two cyber-cultivators leaped onto the roof. These men were half machine, with their heads encased in a menacing fusion of a camera and a helmet. Their oversized, talon-shaped gauntlets boasted retractable claws crackling with lightning. Each of them rushed at a different foe with unnerving agility.

    ¡°I knew you Gunsouls had a way of bypassing a Third Coil¡¯s skin, but damn¡­¡± Gayak grabbed the bronze chain strapped around his steaming chest, ripped its links apart, and then tossed it aside; all while avoiding a claw to the face. ¡°What¡¯s your name, stranger?¡±

    ¡°Yuan,¡± he replied while firing at the cyber-cultivator engaging him in melee. This time he fired an earth-infused bullet which exploded into a blast of stone shrapnel mid-flight, like a dispersed shotgun shell, but the enemy dodged with a fluid sidestep.

    The cyber-cultivator lunged at Yuan in a wild frenzy, leaping and trying to grab him with his shock gauntlets. The borg was quick, but not so much that Yuan couldn¡¯t keep up with his attacks while waiting for an opening.

    ¡°Yuan¡­ I¡¯ll remember it.¡± Gayak retracted his bone-blades into his body and smirked at the cyber-cultivator threatening him. ¡°I think I¡¯ll take your heart.¡±

    His emaciated body suddenly bulged out, and his qi surged outward in a crushing wave. The stench of a slaughterhouse filled with fresh meat washed over Yuan, followed by the metallic taste of blood on the tip of his tongue. Gayak¡¯s malice overflowed like boiling magma surging from the heart of the earth; his oppressive aura briefly stunned everyone around him. It was as if his chain had contained his true power. His muscles bulged and black sutra tattoos appeared on his veins, while the hole in his stomach squirmed like a second mouth.

    Yuan focused on the flow of qi coursing through Gayak¡¯s body. Revolver warned him that most cultivators cycled through the three dantian cores, located in the head, heart, and stomach.

    Gayak had at least .

    . Yuan looked down at the rooftop. He had sensed Gatling Man¡¯s qi signature below them.

    Deciding that the terrain didn¡¯t favor him, Yuan ran towards the rooftop¡¯s edge: more specifically, the one on the other side of the rampaging demon below. Gayak let out a maniacal laughter, his stomach squirming with qi. Dozens of tentacles erupted from his belly and lunged at everyone in the vicinity in a tide of churning flesh.

    The cyber-cultivator closest to Gayak was swiftly torn to pieces, the intestines tearing him limb from limb. Yuan and the other borg were far enough away to run towards the edge, only for parts of the roof to blow up as Gatling Man fired upwards from the floor below. Yuan managed to dodge an attack, then kicked the other cyber-cultivator in the way of another. The bullet blew up half his torso, and Gayak¡¯s tentacles caught up to the rest.

    Yuan managed to reach the roof¡¯s edge, leaped into the void, and turned around in midair to aim at Gayak¡¯s head. He quickly activated Archer¡¯s Glory and followed through with a metal-infused bullet aimed at his head. His intestine tentacles quickly raised a Barrier in the way, and Yuan¡¯s projectile just flattened against it on impact.

    Falling down into the courtyard, Yuan barely had any time to blink before Gatling Man broke through the wall closest to him. The Metallist jumped at Yuan, raised his hand, and triggered the Recoil Fist.

    Yuan hastily shaped a Barrier extending from his palms and tuned it to repel his own technique. It stopped the Recoil Fist¡¯s shockwave¡ªlikely saving his bullet-core from destruction¡ªbut not the punch itself. Gatling Man hit Yuan in the face with such strength that his jaw cracked slightly beneath his metal-infused skin.

    Yuan found himself crashing down onto the courtyard, the impact making him bounce off it. He barely had time to use a Recoil Kick to propel himself a few meters away. Gatling Man landed feet-first on the spot where his head used to be an instant before, death missing him by an inch.

    Yuan quickly rose to his feet and pointed his revolver at Gatling Man. His enemy shrugged his shoulders and shed most of his armor. Metal plates fell off his body, thinning his behemoth frame into a thinner, more agile version of itself.

    At the same time, Gayak whistled from atop the rooftop. Yuan immediately heard the demon sumo on the other side of the building charge through it in an attempt to reach his master¡¯s enemies, the earth shaking with every step.

    Yuan put his revolver back in its holster to free his hand and then tightened his fists. He would need both hands for the upcoming fight. S?a?ch* Th? ?ov?l?ir?.n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    He could only see one path to victory.

    Yuan thought.

 Chapter 37: Enemy Down

    Asa-Zakura crashed through the Bullet Church¡¯s walls with a raging roar.The building collapsed in the demon sumo¡¯s wake in a cataclysmic waterfall of stone and debris. The creature brought down his immense palm on Yuan and Gatling Man with the speed of crashing thunder.

    The two Gunsouls immediately moved out of the way, albeit in different ways. While Yuan backflipped, his body brimming with qi and superhuman strength, Gatling Man used the same Recoil Fist variant he used to dodge his earlier attack atop the wall. His body disappeared and reappeared a few meters forward in an instant without any effort on his part.

    He didn¡¯t dodge, however. Gatling Man used his technique to appear in front of Yuan, his foot aiming straight for his enemy¡¯s bullet-core.

    Yuan saw it coming this time. More than that, his enhanced sight picked up on the intricacies of Gatling Man¡¯s technique. The man distributed the Recoil Fist¡¯s shockwave across his qi pathways and then through exhaust ports on his metal armor. This distributed the shockwave through one side of the body and pushed it in any direction the user wished. Rudimentary, but effective.

    So rudimentary, in fact, that Yuan had little trouble copying it.

    Triggering the Recoil Fist and splintering its impact across the right side of his body, Yuan¡¯s body dodged Gatling Man¡¯s blow in the blink of an eye as the shockwave tore off half his shirt as the blast burst out of his skin.

    Yuan quickly realized why Gatling Man didn¡¯t overuse the technique. Not only did it cost quite a lot of qi, but he barely avoided tripping from the sudden shift in direction. His muscles ached too. Unlike Gatling Man¡¯s custom exhaust ports, he had to expel the qi through his skin¡¯s pressure points; a quite painful process.

    It would take some practice to get used to it.

    Nonetheless, using this technique gave Yuan greater insight into its inner workings. He gained greater awareness of which qi pathways his bullet-core used to distribute the power across his body.

    This knowledge would soon come in handy.

    ¡°You copied my technique¡­¡± Gatling Man scoffed as he and Yuan danced among the dust. ¡°You don¡¯t know what that power will cost us.¡±

    Yuan remained careful to keep Asa-Zakura¡¯s leg positioned between the two of them to deny his enemy a direct line of fire. The demon sumo tried to trample both of them, but they proved too swift for him.

    ¡°Our bullets are seeds,¡± Gatling Man said as he struggled to find an opening. Yuan continued to stay on the move, only for him to catch a glimpse of Gayak jumping atop his summoned demon¡¯s shoulders. Their common enemy would soon go on the offensive. ¡°Crops that the Gun cultivates until the day they can bloom into flowers of death.¡±

    ¡°Then why do you seek to take mine?¡± Yuan replied, his qi sight meticulously examining every disturbance in his enemy¡¯s aura. He continued to circle Gatling Man from the left, his previously destroyed eye making that side a blind spot.

    ¡°Once I cross the Third Coil, I can engrave the Metallist¡¯s innate techniques into my soul!¡± Gatling Man¡¯s body heated up, his steel joints steaming and whitening. ¡°I will free myself from the Gun¡¯s Path and become !¡±

    Yuan was preparing for his enemy¡¯s counterattack when he heard Gayak¡¯s whistle above his head. Asa-Zakura suddenly stopped trying to crush his quicker prey. He instead stretched his legs, crouched, raised his hands, and then shouted a chant with bestial pride.

    ¡°Dohy¨­-Shiomaki!¡±

    The demon¡¯s qi expanded outwards in a transparent bubble that swiftly engulfed Yuan and Gatling Man, alongside a large section of the courtyard. It extended until it reached a meter above the tip of Asa-Zakura¡¯s head, then rippled into the form of a translucent barrier. A layer of salt covered the ground beneath Yuan¡¯s feet and white dust filled his lungs.

    Yuan decided against it, since this arena lacked the oppressive, awe-inspiring aura of Arc¡¯s Headshot Forge.

    He briefly retreated to the edge of this new arena and punched the bubble. It absorbed his blow without flinching. Since Asa-Zakura remained frozen in his strange stance rather than attack again, Yuan guessed that his Barrier would keep everyone trapped inside it until he stopped maintaining it.

    Yuan quickly realized that the strange field did more than restrict their movements. He sensed the salt in the air creep into his lungs and slowly corrode his iron skin. Gatling Man didn¡¯t take kindly to the barrier either. Yuan could hear his servos grinding from here.

    He would need to finish this quickly.

    Gayak leaped off his demon¡¯s shoulder and unleashed his gut-tentacles in midair. A veritable hail of flesh rained upon the Gunsouls on the ground, forcing them to navigate around them while impaired by the restricted area.

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    Yuan didn¡¯t strike back, however. He didn¡¯t even a counterattack. His complete attention, every fiber of his being, was entirely focused on defense and observation. He swiftly calculated Gayak¡¯s trajectory, then positioned himself so that the Flesh Mansion Sect cultivator would land squarely between him and Gatling Man.

    The latter took the bait.

    Seeing his chance to strike, Gatling Man rushed at Gayak in a blinding rush of speed the moment his feet hit the ground. His fist heated up, then blurred as it lunged forward. Gayak¡¯s hands quickly parried the blow so fast that Yuan heard a familiar, awe-inspiring boom following the crash.

    The sound barrier shattering.

    This perfectly illustrated the gulf between Second and Third Coil cultivators. Yuan and Gatling Man could move at supersonic speed through heavy use of the Recoil Fist, while Gayak did so with sheer muscle strength alone. His limbs rippled with .

    Gatling Man¡¯s technique nonetheless managed to force Gayak on the defensive. Through a combination of the Recoil Fist and immense speed, his hands began to blur as they pummeled his foe. Small shockwaves pushed them back and forth without pause like stressed pistons in an endless combo.

    Gayak¡¯s hands and tentacles remained entirely focused on deflecting punches, the onslaught being so quick and savage that it left no room to counterattack. Moreover, the blows slowly pushed him towards the arena¡¯s edge.

    From the way Gatling Man snarled, he hadn¡¯t expected so much trouble getting past Gayak¡¯s guard. He probably thought he could finish him with a surprise attack and then move on.

    The two were frozen in a stalemate until either Gayak slipped up or Gatling Man ran out of qi. So intense was their duel that they seemed to forget Yuan; or rather, they afford to split their attention away from their current opponent. A single misstep would allow the other to inflict a lethal blow.

    This state of affairs wouldn¡¯t last long, but Yuan didn¡¯t give them any reason to split their focus for now. He waited for his chance, his eyes fixated on his true prize.

    Defeating Gayak was too long a shot for the moment. The Flesh Mansion Sect cultivator was too strong, too skilled, and packed enough sub-cores to outlast them all. Yuan doubted he and Gatling Man could best him by forming a temporary truce, and his fellow Gunsoul didn¡¯t show any willingness to do so anyway.

    To beat Gayak, Yuan would have to ¡ªone whose key was within Gatling Man¡¯s possession.

    Surviving the moonburns did more than improve the flow of his qi¡¯s circulation; it also gave him greater insight into its movements. Gatling Man¡¯s qi spread all over his metal frame. His iron roots had taken hold of every gear and servo, every inch of steel. This dense network obscured his bullet-core from detection¡­ whenhe used the Recoil Fist.

    This technique worked by unleashing a powerful pulse of qi from the bullet-core across a limb. Observing it closely would let Yuan retrace the energy movements and pinpoint their source.

    And as Gatling Man continued to pummel Gayak with it, Yuan began to slowly narrow down that spot. He was now almost entirely sure the core was located somwhere around his waist.

    . The hard part would follow soon after: namely, opening a path to the bullet-core destroying it or alerting Gatling Man to the incoming danger.

    That passing thought turned into a flash of insight.

    Arc taught him that adaptive techniques could be replicated by other Paths. S?a??h th? N0v?lFir?.?et website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Yuan¡¯s gunsmoke breath coursed through metal lungs. His qi traveled along the length of the roots coiling around his muscles and squirming beneath his skin. If he expelled it through the latter from his pressure points, he might mimic Toshiro¡¯s mist-shrouding fist technique. The fog-transformation was beyond Yuan for now, but he could still produce a haze of gunsmoke.

    Gayak finally managed to break away from Gatling Man¡¯s combo by opening his mouth and exhaling a cloud of searing flames from his lungs. His enemy was forced to jump back to avoid the fire with a Recoil-powered shockwave.

    As he used that technique one time too many, Yuan finally saw . That tiny nod of qi buried in the left side of Gatling Man¡¯s waist; his bullet-core¡¯s hiding spot.

    Yuan immediately circled Gatling Man from his blind spot on the left, readying his body for the clash. He had burned through a lot of qi so far and this maneuver would cost him a lot more. He wouldn¡¯t have much strength left to survive longer should it fail.

    Yuan lunged at Gatling Man with a mighty Recoil Kick, crossing the gap between them in an instant. His enemy pivoted on one foot to intercept him, his fist unleashing a deadly haymaker.

    Yuan pushed his qi out of his skin in a burst of gunsmoke. A faint cloud arose around him, obscuring his hands the same way Toshiro hid them behind a veil of mist once. Yuan quickly came up with a name for this improvised technique.

    Disoriented, Gatling Man¡¯s fist missed Yuan¡¯s shoulder by an inch and hit only smoke. Yuan¡¯s own hand emerged from the cloud, his metal fingers aiming for his enemy¡¯s waist.

    Gatling Man immediately attempted to move out of the way with a Recoil Shockwave, but it was too little, too late. Powered by his momentum, Yuan¡¯s fist punched through his enemy¡¯s armor, through the gears, cables, and servos.

    His fingers immediately closed on a pulsating organ: a lead heart pounding with smoke and qi.

    Gatling Man¡¯s hand closed on Yuan¡¯s head with a snarl of rage and desperation. Yuan¡¯s skull began to hurt like never before as an impossibly strong grip pressed against his metal-infused skin and bones. Whether Gatling Man was trying to extract Yuan¡¯s bullet-core first or making a desperate attempt to drag his enemy to the Nowhere with him, he couldn¡¯t tell.

    ¡°I¡¯ll rip out your brain from your sku¨C¡±

    Yuan ripped out Gatling Man¡¯s bullet-core from his body before he could finish his sentence.

    His hand gripped a spent 7.62¡Á51mm seed bursting with metal roots and quickly pushed it down his throat. Yuan swallowed his prize before Gatling Man¡¯s mechanical corpse even hit the ground, his hands losing their strength and the light in his last eye shutting down.

    Yuan thought as he consumed the bullet-core.

    Time seemed to stretch on forever at first, with nothing happening. Yuan sensed the bullet fall down his throat into his stomach, his metal roots coiling around it like a net catching a fish.

    Then he heard the sound of a trigger being pulled in his head, followed by .

    Foreign qi coursed through Yuan¡¯s body in a wave of fire and smoke. His metal roots became circuits restructuring his weak flesh with lead and iron. His senses sharpened and his mind burned within his skull.

    Yuan Guang crossed the Third Coil of Infinity with a thundering roar.

 Chapter 38: The Blitz

    Yuan¡¯s body surged with strength, and then with .His muscles rippled with newfound power, doubling in size and constraining his bones. His bullet-core¡¯s metal roots pulsed with boiling qi that burned away his body fat and reshaped his human organs. The sheer amount of energy coursing through him erupted out from his flesh in the form of searing gunsmoke and forced him to collapse to one knee.

    ¡°Quite the bold gamble, absorbing a qi core in the middle of battle,¡± Gayak taunted Yuan before kicking him in the face with such strength that he soon crashed against Asa-Zakura¡¯s leg. Yuan¡¯s nose cracked, along with a few teeth. The blow would have likely decapitated him had his body not reached the Third Coil. ¡°Don¡¯t you know it takes a while for the body to adapt to your core¡¯s new output?¡±

    Yuan understood it, intellectually. Living through it was a completely different experience. of Gatling Man¡¯s qi flowed into his bullet-core and then through his unprepared body. It was like compressing two liters of water into a bottle meant to house .

    Yuan did his best to cycle the excessive qi through his body as fast as he could. His metal roots grew tenfold, eating his muscles and replacing them with a dense network of interwoven steel. His veins turned into silicon transistors carrying qi to nodes spread across his body''s entire circulatory system, while four pits of steel grew out of his back near his scapula.

    Yuan realized. He had scavenged enough electronics to recognize them.

    Gayak cautiously took a step back and stopped his assault upon noticing Yuan¡¯s transformation. Flexible plates of armored steel grew to replace his destroyed skin from his shoulders to his nails. When he coated them with Elemental Infusion, they appeared well and truly indestructible.

    His bullet-core was an overheating engine whose shell mutated to compensate for the increase in power. The only solution Yuan found to deal with the pain was to expel excessive qi before it could tear him apart from within, which he did by using both Elemental Infusion and Black Haze. His entire body became , down to his brain. Smoke erupted from his exhaust ports and burned the salt in the air.

    After appraising Yuan for a moment and deciding to test the waters, Gayak propelled his gut tentacles at his bullet-core at lightning speed. Yuan managed to deflect them with a Recoil Fist and blasted them away.

    Yuan grit his teeth and forced himself back to his feet. He refused to die on his knees.

    ¡°You¡¯re getting used to it? Very impressive.¡± Gayak whistled with what could pass for genuine respect. ¡°How long have you been a cultivator, Yuan?¡±

    Yuan couldn¡¯t count clearly at the moment, but he could wager a guess. ¡°Two weeks?¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re already good?¡± Gayak chuckled and adopted a defensive fighting stance, hands raised to shield his head and his knees slightly bent. ¡°I think I¡¯ve finally met a late-blooming prodigy.¡±

    Yuan couldn¡¯t tell if that was true, since he didn¡¯t know what was counted as exceptional among cultivators, nor did he care. He was only concerned with his own development and the battle ahead.

    . Yuan had no idea how long it would take for his body to complete its Third Coil transformation, but he couldn¡¯t afford to wait that long. Gayak would finish him long before he reached that stage. Worse, Yuan felt the salt in the air slowly corroding his metal skin.

    ¡°You¡¯re sure you don¡¯t want to join us?¡± Gayak asked, his tentacles wriggling in his stomach. ¡°It would be such a shame to pluck a promising flower before it can fully bloom.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll pass,¡± Yuan replied with a grimace, swiftly calculating the distance between them and preparing to strike. ¡°We¡¯re evenly matched now that I¡¯ve crossed the Third Coil.¡±

    ¡°Evenly matched?¡± Gayak¡¯s head tilted to the side like a curious bird, his smirk widening. ¡°I doubt that.¡±

    He then opened his mouth and blasted Yuan with a sea of fire.

    The infernal blast burst out of Gayak¡¯s gullet in the blink of an eye, but it seemed unbearably slow to Yuan. His legs carried him out of the way in a single bound.

    The sudden influx of qi strengthened his organs, including the circuits that now replaced his entire nervous system. Information flowed in nanoseconds, sharpening his reflexes until they slowed his very perception of time.

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    Absorbing his enemy¡¯s bullet-core did more than just allow Yuan to steal his qi. His body moved on its own, guided by muscle memory he never had. His fallen foe¡¯s moves were now ingrained into his body¡­ including one particular technique.

    ¡°Ah, you¡¯re good now,¡± Gayak said as he joined his hands in a mudra sequence. ¡°Would have been a shame to harvest your organs before they could achieve perf¨C¡±

    Yuan closed the gap between them in a single Recoil Shockwave.

    A mighty sonic boom echoed in the wake of his jump, followed by a cloud of fumes heating up the air. Yuan¡¯s exhaust ports channeled the technique far better than his body could back when he was still a Second Coil and allowed him to more easily adjust his movements. His hands clicked like triggers the moment they hit Gayak¡¯s palms. He had anticipated the punch and countered it, as Yuan expected him to.

    So Yuan followed-up with a thousand more.

    Gatling Man¡¯s ¡®muscle¡¯ memory¡ªif Yuan could call it that¡ªguided his arms as they began a lightning-fast combo. Recoil-powered bursts pulsed from his fists and elbows, turning his arms into pistons that pummeled Gayak.

    This was the technique Gatling Man used on the Flesh Mansion Sect cultivator earlier, but lacked the skill to properly execute: combining the Recoil Fist and immense speed to keep hammering his target with an endless onslaught of blows, without room for reprieve nor escape.

    The Gatling Fist.

    The sheer velocity and stress the technique put on the user¡¯s arms forced Gatling Man to rely on extensive qi-powered machinery, since he hadn¡¯t crossed the Third Coil yet. Yuan¡¯s newly enhanced body could execute it by himself.

    Gayak¡¯s defense unfortunately proved impenetrable. Each blow broke the sound barrier, yet the Flesh Mansion Sect cultivator¡¯s palms and gut-tentacles managed to parry and deflect them all. s?a??h th? ??v?lF?re.?et website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    The problem was twofold. First Gayak created short-lived Barriers from his palms that repelled the Gatling Fist¡¯s shockwaves, weakening the punches enough that his hands could parry them. Second, the four eyes on his chest watched each of his enemy¡¯s movements and let him anticipate them. Eventually, Yuan would slip up enough for Gayak to catch his breath and break the deadlock, like he did with Gatling Man beforehand.

    So he blinded him.

    Yuan breathed out a cloud of gunsmoke at Gayak¡¯s chest with Black Haze, obscuring his extra four eyes. Gayak¡¯s palms immediately failed to catch a punch. Yuan¡¯s fist slipped past his guard and hit his chest with such strength that one of the eyes exploded in a shower of blood.

    It went downhill from there.

    Combining Black Haze with the Gatling Fist, Yuan shrouded his movements behind a veil of thick gunsmoke the same way Toshiro did during their duel back in the Thunderlands. Gayak proved unable to recover from it. Yuan¡¯s punches hit him in the face, the chest, the shoulders, . When he raised his palms to guard, Yuan broke his forearms. When he opened his mouth to breathe fire, Yuan retaliated with an uppercut that shattered his jaw and crushed his windpipe. When he tried to sidestep out of range, a counterpunch forced him back into Yuan¡¯s killing zone.

    Now that the combo had slipped past Gayak¡¯s defenses, he could no longer break out of it. He soon found himself bleeding and battered, with his back pressed against Asa-Zakura¡¯s Barrier. He was a man trapped between a rock and a barrage of steel-hard fists. His skull broke, his eyes exploded in a shower of blood, and his gut-tentacles were blasted apart by repeated shockwaves.

    Even then, Yuan didn¡¯t relent. He ignored the rising pain in his arms, his metal skin peeling back on his knuckles from the speed, and the cracks showing on Asa-Zaruka¡¯s Barrier. He he would collapse the moment he stopped his attack. His exhaust ports and metal skin struggled to expel all the extra qi coursing through him. Any pause might cause a terrible backslash.

    His fist shattered Gayak¡¯s skull and the demon sumo¡¯s Barrier along with it.

    The sudden, uninterrupted momentum carried Yuan forward until he tripped amidst the Bullet Church¡¯s wreckage. Gayak¡¯s brain stained his fist alongside churning blood and shattered bones. The rest of his foe¡¯s mangled body bounced off piles of stones, the landing blowing dust in all directions.

    The salt on the floor and in the air disappeared in a cloud of swirling colored mists, alongside the demon sumo that summoned the arena. Yuan assumed that his contract only bound Asa-Zakura to serve until his master died. He sighed in relief as he fell to his knees, his limbs spasming and aching. He wouldn¡¯t have been able to take on the fiend in his current state.

    Most cultivators would have called it a day¡­ but not Yuan. Having come back from the dead himself, he refused to take any chances. He observed Gayak¡¯s remains, searching for any hint of qi.

    The corpse stirred.

    Swiftly grabbing his revolver, Yuan unloaded a metal qi-charged bullet at Gayak. The cultivator¡¯s exposed sinews coiled into tentacles that pushed the body out of the way and behind a pile of debris.

    Yuan forced himself back to his feet, a cramp in his leg nearly causing him to fall. He immediately used Item Materialization to refill his revolver¡¯s chambers.

    He heard Gayak¡¯s voice coming from behind the debris. ¡°Damn, you actually managed to kill me¡­¡±

    Yuan didn¡¯t have to wait long before his enemy emerged from behind his hiding spot.

    Gayak¡¯s mangled corpse had rearranged itself into a nightmarish shape. Teeth grew around the hole in his guts, transforming it into a talking maw. Two new yellow eyes appeared on his chest to replace the old ones, and his broken arms lengthened into whips of bones and muscles.

    ¡°I expected to bait you into overextending yourself before your body could adapt, but you had me there¡­ If my backup core hadn¡¯t reanimated me¡­¡± Gayak¡¯s chest-mouth let out a sinister laugh filled with grim joy. ¡°You¡¯re the first foe I¡¯m using the Dance of Endless Mutation on, you know?¡±

    Yuan quickly assessed the situation with his qi sight. On one hand, he only detected surviving core left inside Gayak out of the seven from earlier, so he was running on fumes; on the other hand, so was Yuan. The Gatling Fist had ripped the metal skin off of his knuckles and left his arms so sore he doubted they would support another use of the technique. At least putting Gayak through a near-death experience had banished his summoned demon.

    This would be their final bout, one way or another.

 Chapter 39: The Dance of Endless Mutation

    Gayak swung his whip-arms at lightning speeds.Having witnessed Yuan killing Gatling Man by removing his bullet-core, he immediately aimed for his own with lethal precision. Yuan quickly shot them both before they could reach him.

    Yuan recalled.

    The bullets he fired carried water and wood-aligned qi respectively. The first turned Gayak¡¯s right whip-arm to ice after impact; the other burst into a seedling bud that quickly infected his enemy¡¯s flesh with roots and petals.

    Neither brought him much respite. The boiling blood dripping from Gayak¡¯s arms suddenly burst into flames, melting the ice and burning away the flower bud in an instant. They moved to close on Yuan from both sides in an attempt to catch him.

    He activated a Recoil Shockwave in response, though he didn¡¯t retreat. Banking everything on offense since his body wouldn¡¯t withstand a prolonged duel, and ignoring the pain in his exhaust ports, Yuan threw himself straight at Gayak¡¯s body with his foot first. Gayak¡¯s loss of eyes prevented him from reacting quickly enough to dodge.

    Yuan kicked Gayak¡¯s torso at supersonic speed, shattering bones on impact. His foot quickly encountered resistance. Muscles tightened and reassembled themselves near the area where he hit, forming a layer of meat that softened the blow and prevented Yuan from reaching Gayak¡¯s core.

    With his hands too sore to follow up with a punch and Gayak¡¯s whip-tentacles closing in on him, Yuan decided to retreat. He quickly released a Black Haze to shroud his movements and then attempted to leap over Gayak and strike him from behind.

    Burning tentacles grabbed him by the left ankle in midair, piercing through his steely skin and the iron muscles beneath. Another lunged for his bullet-core, but Yuan managed to catch it with his free hand first. He had to bite his tongue not to scream from the pain of his fingers¡¯ flesh melting off his bones.

    ¡°I wanted to pace myself to kill the Metallists later, but you¡¯ve done it,¡± Gayak confessed with giddiness. A layer of translucent matter covered his eyes like a pair of organic glasses and shielded them from the gunsmoke. ¡°I¡¯ll fight you with all I have.¡±

    Yuan answered by aiming for his enemy¡¯s torso with his revolver. Gayak stomped the ground with his foot and summoned a Barrier to protect himself. It stopped the first, non-elemental qi shot. The second, however, carried a spark of fire. The bullet flattened against Gayak¡¯s defense, but the explosive burst of flames went through.

    Although the blast burned the outer layers of Gayak¡¯s torso and caused him to stumble, he didn¡¯t release his hold on Yuan either. His tentacles coiled around his leg and hand, tightening their grip.

    Yuan had no choice but to use another Recoil Shockwave to retreat. The sudden burst of speed let him wrench himself free from Gayak¡¯s grasp, but his tentacles sliced off parts of him on the way out. Yuan could see his finger bones in some places, and his left foot hurt so much it wouldn¡¯t move again.

    The pain did help Yuan achieve a certain kind of clarity. Taking a page from Gayak¡¯s book, he quickly created a Barrier meant to repel only himself to give himself an anchor in midair and control his trajectory. He managed to land on his uninjured right foot a few meters away from Gayak.

    Yuan noticed a strange change in Gayak. His torso had grown a layer of thick black bark that endured the flames threatening to consume him. Yuan had seen trees with that kind of bark survive wildfires better than most.

    First the arms, then the eyes, and now this¡­ Yuan finally guessed the nature of Gayak¡¯s technique.

    It had to be an innate technique of some kind; and considering Gayak kept it as a trump card up his sleeve, it likely carried certain weaknesses that made abusing it unwise. Yuan needed to probe it further.

    Following Arc¡¯s teaching, Yuan used Sniper¡¯s Bore to lengthen his revolver¡¯s barrel until it reached the length of a rifle, then fired a water-aligned bullet at Gayak¡¯s left eye. The cultivator¡¯s tentacles failed to catch the precise projectile in time and ice swiftly consumed both his target and the barkskin surrounding it. Both caught fire from a sudden surge of boiling blood

    It took seconds for Gayak¡¯s body to mutate when threatened with an attack.

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    ¡°There it is, that look of understanding,¡± Gayak said before running at Yuan at full speed. ¡°The way you pick up abilities with a mere glance¡­ it¡¯s to you. Is that a quirk of your brain¡¯s biochemistry or experience, I wonder?¡±

    Yuan indeed felt that his brain worked faster since he crossed the Third Coil, but it could have been adrenaline or insight from the moonburns. He would explore the subject after surviving the fight.

    Unable to run with his injured foot, Yuan answered by spinning his revolver¡¯s cylinders until it landed on the wood-element bullet chamber, then fired at Gayak¡¯s leg. The bullet surprisingly flattened against a Barrier, though the bud erupted from it and caught him nonetheless. The time it took for Gayak¡¯s flames to consume it gave Yuan a brief second to analyze his defense.

    Barriers were stationary by design, but Gayak found a workaround: he created short-lived ones from his feet whenever either of them hit the ground. He thus alternated between two overlapping defenses with each step. Fiendishly clever.

    , Yuan thought as he quickly reloaded his weapon.

    Which meant that this always took the path of least effort when it came to adaptation. It optimized the body to react to the current threat alone, without anticipation or foresight.

    And change without foresight led to .

    One of Gayak¡¯s tentacles lunged at Yuan¡¯s bullet-core. Yuan cloaked himself in a short Black Haze long enough to dodge by rolling to the side, then counterattacked with a water and wood bullet in quick succession. Gayak shrugged off the former, but then hastily dodged the second by leaping to the side.

    Gayak¡¯s body now naturally produced steam and flames in high quantities. The very air bent around him from the heat.

    ¡°I¡¯m gonna harvest your head,¡± Gayak decided. ¡°Your brain, the eyes, the whole package.¡±

    ¡°Try, if you dare,¡± Yuan replied.

    Channeling the Recoil Kick through his only remaining functioning foot, Yuan propelled himself forward at Gayak, revolver first. A shroud of Black Haze obscured his weapon and its line of fire. S?a?ch* Th? N?velF?re.?et website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    There came the moment of truth.

    Gayak had shown great caution across the entire battle. When confronted with a new move, he always focused on defense rather than pressing his luck. Yuan avoided using his earth bullet during this final clash, so even if Gayak kept count of the chambers, he knew there was one projectile whose properties he didn¡¯t fully understand.

    However, their current positioning gave him a clear shot at Yuan¡¯s bullet-core if he chose to go on the offense. One blow with his tentacle could either kill or cripple his foe.

    Would he risk a potentially lethal surprise for a shot at victory? Would he assume that Yuan wouldn¡¯t dare use such a dangerous move if he didn¡¯t have a trick up his sleeve, or would he call the bluff? Yuan held his breath as he prayed he hadn¡¯t misjudged Gayak.

    He hadn¡¯t.

    Gayak retracted his tentacles, planted them in the ground, then threw himself above Yuan.

    It was the smartest move in his situation, since his enemy wouldn¡¯t have been able to pivot correctly to hit him with his revolver even with Black Haze obscuring his line of fire, and his other hand was too mangled to sustain a powerful Recoil Fist.

    Or so it seemed.

    Quickly spinning in midair, Yuan coated his free hand in a cylinder Barrier and pointed up. A few centimeters separated his back from the earth and his arm from Gayak¡¯s body. His eyes widened in surprise as his lethal mistake finally dawned on him.

    , Yuan thought.

    The detonation threw him to the ground and tore Gayak apart.

    Yuan¡¯s fingers¡¯ bones cracked as compressed air erupted from his makeshift cannon and hit the living kindling. Yuan had guided Gayak¡¯s technique down a predictable path that would maximize his technique¡¯s damage, which it did. The cultivator¡¯s heated-up body exploded into a thousand pieces of scorched meat spread all across the courtyard. Bones, guts, viscera¡­ went down in flames.

    Nothing remained of Gayak other than scraps and boiling blood. He didn¡¯t reassemble himself again.

    Everyone was only one slip-up away from death on the battlefield.

    Yuan lowered his revolver and coughed black oil rising from his lungs.

    Victory well and truly exhausted him, but he had prevailed nonetheless. He had defeated two powerful cultivators in a row and crossed the Third Coil. Yuan sat on his knees and allowed himself to catch his breath, then took a good look at the sky above his head. Grey and black clouds accrued over Fleshmarket, melding with the smoke from the fires consuming it. Webs of flesh had consumed many buildings and crushed emerging screen-towers. Yuan could tell which way this war was going.

    His bullet-core suddenly pounded in his skull at an accelerated rate. A sense of overwhelming dread filled his bones, alongside the acrid smell of burning artillery shells.

    Yuan¡¯s survival instinct flared up, telling him to run, to flee, to get the hell out of Fleshmarket.

    A malevolent aura filled the air. Yuan recognized it as Gayak¡¯s, but¡­ stronger, more overwhelming. He glanced at the pieces around him, suddenly fearing he hadn¡¯t done a good enough job at finishing off the man.

    Gayak¡¯s remains failed to move, but a tentacle of flesh suddenly burst out of the ground next to him.

    An enormous flower of blood and pulsing muscles bloomed from the debris, unveiling a lanky, hooded figure within its heart. The man¡ªYuan assumed it was one from his long white beard filled with festering maggots¡ªleaned over on a gnarled staff of bones, his face shrouded and impenetrable. Yuan saw a glimpse of true horror lurking beneath his tattered rags: a torso of amalgamated flesh and twisted organs, alongside the outlines of tormented faces stitched together in a gruesome parody of a body.

    ¡°A Metallist survivor?¡± Dozens of eyes peered at Yuan from under the hood, gleaming with malevolence. The man¡¯s oppressive aura matched that of Revolver¡¯s in terms of power. ¡°No, a Gunsoul. Pitiful.¡±

    An elder.

    Yuan guessed, to his utter despair. The Flesh Mansion Sect¡¯s leader had come to check on his apprentice.

    A gunsmoke cloud hung over Fleshmarket, obscuring even the sun.

 Chapter 40: The Visitor

    Elder Polio gazed upon his apprentice¡¯s remains without sparing Yuan a glance.Why should he? There was no way Yuan could have taken him in a fight at his best, let alone in his current state; and they both knew it. Still, he wondered why the man hadn¡¯t killed him yet.

    It would have been so easy.

    ¡°You¡¯ve damaged my apprentice quite a bit,¡± the elder mused while stomping the ground with his staff. Disembodied hands of rotting flesh emerged from the ground to grab Gayak¡¯s mangled parts and gather them. ¡°A shame. I was very proud of this design.¡±

    While Elder Polio planted his staff in the earth and began a series of mudras, Yuan subtly used Item Materialization to create new bullets and reload his revolver. The elder underestimated him, the same way any high-level cultivator looked down on everyone else. It might give him an opportunity to escape with judicious use of Black Haze and projectiles.

    But Yuan could hardly focus with his bullet-core pounding harder than a maddened piston in his skull. Was it going to burst out in his head if he failed to cycle through the Third Coil properly?

    ¡°Varada, Pushpaputa, Vajrapradama.¡± Elder Polio completed a mudra sequence and then traced a circle around his apprentice¡¯s remains. ¡°Mend the Splintered Flesh.¡±

    Virulent qi erupted from the elder and filled the circle. A tense silence fell upon the ruins for a few seconds.

    Then the pile of flesh pieced itself back together. S~?a??h the N0v?lFir?.?et website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Yuan thought, praying to the Wayfinders that his eyes deceived him. Gayak¡¯s remains reassembled into a mass of quivering meat.

    ¡°Do not look so surprised, child,¡± Elder Polio taunted him. ¡°If you were in my place, would you bother looking for a naturally-occurring prodigy when you could just one?¡±

    ¡°Twice in a row¡­¡± A tumorous parody of Gayak¡¯s face emerged from the blob of flesh and organs his body had become. His half-formed, mangled limbs struggled to carry him, but he was alive again. ¡°You¡¯re too much!¡±

    Yuan realized. His master pieced him together from various unwilling subjects. And though Gayak was still missing pieces¡­ they had a choice Third Coil donor freshly available.

    He had to run .

    Yuan attempted to trigger his Recoil Shockwave and flee, but a spasm of pain instead coursed through his back. His exhaust ports coughed smoke rather than qi. His own technique failed him.

    ¡°You think I will let you run away?¡± Elder Polio chuckled under his beard. ¡°What of Asa-Zakura, apprentice? I smell him in the air.¡±

    ¡°Gone, Master,¡± Gayak replied nonchalantly. ¡°My first death banished it.¡±

    ¡°The contract was broken?¡± Elder Polio grunted in annoyance. ¡°Foolhardy apprentice, securing that fiend¡¯s allegiance cost us half a dozen Hitobashira. It will take us weeks to renew it.¡±

    His cold, dismissive tone¡ªthe kind a warehouse owner would use to describe useless equipment¡ªboiled Yuan¡¯s blood. ¡°Do the lives of others¡­¡± Yuan coughed gunsmoke. ¡°Mean to your kind?¡±

    ¡°As fuel for our arts, they most certainly matter.¡± Elder Polio stomped the ground with his staff. ¡°Which part of him should I preserve, my apprentice?¡±

    ¡°The head,¡± Gayak replied, his eyes staring at Yuan¡¯s skull with what could pass for lurid desire. ¡°I want his head and his heart.¡±

    ¡°As you wi¨C¡±

    Elder Polio suddenly stomped the ground with his staff so fast Yuan¡¯s eyes couldn¡¯t follow his movements. A thick wall of hands, bones, and human muscles formed around him and Gayak right as gunshots echoed behind Yuan.

    A projectile blasted it with smoke and fire.

    To Yuan, it seemed like a shooting star of golden qi hit the elder¡¯s shell of flesh from above, followed by a shower¡¯s worth of them. They vaporized its outer layers, forcing Polio to summon more organic mass from nothing to repel them. One shot went through his protective shell and vaporized Gayak until nothing but steaming guts and viscera remained. Elder Polio took a shot to the shoulder, but managed to regenerate his defense before it collapsed entirely.

    When the bombardment was completed, Elder Polio¡¯s bunker of flesh resembled a charred fruit¡¯s shell breaking at the seams. Yuan looked up at the Bullet Church¡¯s wreckage. A man stood atop the ruins, a revolver in each hand.

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    ¡°Stand up, Yuan.¡± Revolver cocked his guns. He looked quite pleased with himself. ¡°A Gunsoul does not kneel before a pile of trash.¡±

    He spoke with such easy moxie and confidence that Yuan couldn¡¯t help but feel inspired. He grit his teeth, used Item Materialization to create a makeshift metal brace to help his wounded foot and powered through the pain enough to force himself back up. He continued to cycle his qi as fast as he could; though the pain remained sharp, his body began to feel less sluggish.

    ¡°How long were you there?¡± Yuan rasped under his breath.

    ¡°Since that mutant summoned the sumo,¡± Revolver replied as he leaped to Yuan¡¯s side. His guns were squarely aimed at Elder Polio¡¯s flesh cocoon, waiting for him to come out. ¡°Could have broken through the Barrier and lent a hand, but I figured you would have resented me for it.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Yuan would probably have refused help. Killing Gayak was something Yuan had to do by himself, if only to prove that he could win on his own. ¡°Thanks for the assist.¡±

    ¡°No, thank for luring this piece of shit out.¡± Revolver slightly cracked his neck. ¡°Been waiting forever for this one.¡±

    Elder Polio¡¯s wall of muscles ruptured open at last. Revolver immediately fired a qi-charged shot at it only to blast an empty shell. A flower of flesh surged from the ground a few meters away, unveiling the old man hiding within.

    ¡°You have broken my apprentice again?¡± Elder Polio seethed with anger and malevolence as he revealed himself once more. ¡°Wasn¡¯t your first death enough of a lesson, Revolver?¡±

    Revolver scoffed. ¡°You¡¯ve got no thrall to shoot me in the back this time.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re still the same weakling slave unfit to be a graft.¡± Polio stomped the ground with his staff. ¡°A bad investment from start to finish.¡±

    ¡°You should have kept the receipt.¡± Revolver tightened his grip on his weapons. ¡°You best get out of dodge, Yuan. My trump card doesn¡¯t discriminate¨C¡±

    Revolver grunted in pain, his hands reaching for the back of his skull.

    A wave of agony surged from Yuan¡¯s bullet-core at the same time, sharp and visceral. A terrible sensation of metal piercing through his brain burned his iron nerves and coursed through his circuits. A phantom pain that was so familiar, so unforgettable, because it was the last he experienced before his death and rebirth.

    Yuan Guang lived through his murder all over again.

    His scream echoed with the low sound of distant gunshots and the sharp clinks of bullet casings falling on the ground. A tension coursed through the air, followed by the thick burnt aroma of discharged weapons and the acrid scent of burning oil. A savage aura of qi blanketed all of Fleshmarket.

    Elder Polio sensed it too. His hooded face stared up at the gunsmoke-filled sky, where gray rain clouds blanketed the city in thick shadows. The storm¡¯s thunder sounded like an artillery bombardment and fire explosions set it alight instead of lightning.

    ¡°What have you done?¡± he whispered under his beard. ¡°What have you ?!¡±

    Yuan couldn¡¯t tell , but he knew . Every fiber of his qi-roots quivered in anticipation, like children calling their daddy home. His bullet-core trembled with excitement. Detonations erupted above his head as a prelude for incoming calamity.

    ¡°There are too many of you in one place¡­¡± Elder Polio muttered to himself, his words laced with an emotion Yuan never thought he would hear from an elder: . ¡°You¡¯re doomed us all, accursed fools!¡±

    Elder Polio summoned another shell of flesh to protect himself, but it was likely too little too late. Revolver powered through the pain to look at the sky with what could pass for quiet acceptance.

    ¡°It finally came for me, ?¡± he said calmly.

    The Gun announced its coming with a rain of bullets.

    The gunsmoke thunderclouds unloaded a downpour of lead rather than water. Millions upon millions of projectiles fell upon Fleshmarket in a devastating cacophony of gunshots and detonations, each and every single one of them charged with qi.

    Yuan immediately formed a Barrier around Revolver and himself, with his mentor doing the same. Two layered domes surrounded them in an instant, both specifically designed to stop an attack which they instinctively understood and mastered early in their journey. They bunkered down as the rains of destruction fell upon Fleshmarket.

    The heavens¡¯ judgment leveled the city to the ground.

    A bombardment mightier than what any sect could have possibly organized hit the entire city from above in a deluge of gunfire. Weaker buildings were instantly vaporized, their entire structures reduced to dust in the blink of an eye. The stronger ones swiftly shattered into piles of stone and steel. The city¡¯s outer walls held for a time under the onslaught, but the continued impacts and repeated shockwaves caused them to crack and collapse one after another. Explosions rocked the city and leveled it to the ground in a deafening symphony of death.

    None were spared. From the Metallists¡¯ screen-towers to the Flesh Mansion Sect¡¯s organic corruption, they all took the brunt of the indiscriminate bombardment. Polio materialized a Barrier around himself the moment the rain shredded his flesh shell apart, but he hadn¡¯t spent enough time around Gunsouls to properly tune it. Qi-charged bullet droplets vaporized his head and chest at lightning speed, incinerating his clothes and flesh. The downpour riddled him with holes and then annihilated what little scraps tied them together.

    For a long moment that seemed to stretch on forever, Yuan could only stare blankly at this vision of utter annihilation unfolding around him. Only when the smoke and dust became too thick for him to see did a fearful thought finally manage to worm its way into his consciousness.

    Holster and Orient were still in the city.

    Horror seized Yuan to such a degree that his own Barrier wavered for a moment, with Revolver barely holding it up. He prayed to the Wayfinders that his allies had sensed the disaster and evacuated early, because if they hadn¡¯t¡­ if they hadn¡¯t¡­

    Yuan had already lost a team once, he to outlive another one. The wound was still too fresh in his mind. He couldn¡¯t let Holster and Orient perish when their lives had only just begun.

    The downpour ended as suddenly as it began. The wild chaos of the battle and the great gunfire cacophony that followed left the city in a heavy, terrifying silence. So thorough was the cataclysm that Yuan couldn¡¯t see farther than his own feet. Dust covered everything else.

    ¡°Yuan,¡± Revolver said as their Barriers finally collapsed, his voice calm but firm. ¡°Yuan? Yuan?!¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡± Yuan muttered under his breath, his mind still struggling to process the devastation around them.

    ¡°You .¡± The ground trembled beneath their feet, followed by the noise of whirring cylinders coming from the smoke. ¡°You run and you don¡¯t look back.¡±

 Chapter 41: Deaths Roulette

    Calamity beckoned.An overwhelming flood of malevolent qi engulfed Fleshmarket. A tidal wave of phantom gunpowder and searing hot air suffocated Yuan, causing what remained of his iron lungs to burn within his chest.

    The same oppressive sensation of danger he experienced in Manhattan¡¯s presence overcame him once again. This time it was wilder though, violent and bombastic. Manhattan had been a quiet death, cold and unfeeling. The Gun¡¯s presence instead cast a shadow of savage and indiscriminate destruction; an incoming threat of mindless, maniacal violence.

    Yuan Guan was no coward and not one to back down from a fight, but he was an unreasonable man. He knew he stood no chance against a demigod capable of razing an entire city to the ground in the blink of an eye.

    So he followed Revolver¡¯s advice.

    Yuan ran towards the Bullet Church¡¯s ruins. He wanted to rejoin with Orient and Holster to confirm their survival¡ªthey to have survived¡ªand then escape the city. Nothing else mattered.

    He hardly managed to walk two steps before collapsing among the ruins.

    His legs spasmed mid-motion and caused him to trip up. Pain coursed through his feet then upward across his back, everything below the waist going numb.

    ¡°Yuan!¡± Revolver rushed to his side. ¡°Yuan, stand up! You can¡¯t stay here!¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t¡­ move¡­¡± Yuan clenched his feet and tried to power through the pain, to no avail. His own legs refused to obey him. ¡°Won¡¯t¡­ too much¡­¡±

    Gayak warned him that it took a while for a body to adjust to crossing the Third Coil, and that was he pushed himself to the limit to defeat his enemy. His limbs now suffered from his performance¡¯s backslash.

    He heard Revolver curse under his breath. The older Gunsoul grabbed his arm and pulled it over his shoulders.

    ¡°Hold on, kid,¡± Revolver told him before whistling. The roar of his cruiser resonated across the smoke, though it was hardly audible over the encroaching symphony of whirring cylinders and gunshot steps. ¡°We¡¯ll pull through this.¡±

    He was lying.

    A great tremor shook the earth near them, followed by a searing heatwave that nearly set Yuan¡¯s remaining clothes on fire. A great shadow loomed over the Gunsouls and blanketed them in thick darkness.

    Yuan looked up.

    And up.

    And .

    The Gun towered over the Gunsouls like a mountain made of lead and steel. The brief glimpse Yuan caught during his revival didn¡¯t do the real thing justice. It was over three times Asa-Zakura¡¯s height, a walking metal fortress with monstrous gun barrels for hands and a rifle for a face. Its emaciated parody of a humanoid form was a monstrous mix of charred bones and burned flesh melting together with oily metal. Mounted artillery cannons fumed on its shoulders, and an ammo belt tail whipped the ground in its wake. Its entire body breathed gunsmoke and death; its maw opened to reveal rows of lead shells for fangs.

    Death by firearms glared down on them, and Revolver shot it in the face.

    A bullet packing more qi than Yuan could muster in his entire core hit the Gun with enough power to blow Orient all the way to the Nowhere. It surged out of Revolver¡¯s barrel like a blazing comet and detonated into a fireball larger than Asa-Zakura himself. So bright was its glow that Yuan had to cover his eyes not to go blind, and even then the impact blew out a wave of hot air that threw dust in his face.

    The Gun didn¡¯t even flinch.

    Everything that followed was a blur. Revolver fled with Yuan on foot at bullet speed, crossing the ruins by running even faster than Orient could drive. They rushed past piles of wrecked cyborgs and the lead-riddled remains of their enemies across a wasteland of the dead.

    The Gun caught up to them in a single bound.

    Its mere movements sent shockwaves rippling across the air, blasting away debris and creating a vast crater on impact. Yuan and Revolver were thrown at burning wreckage with greater force than Gatling Man¡¯s punches, the latter losing his grip on the former. Yuan bounced off piles of debris and soon ended up laying face-first on the ground.

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    ¡°Away¡­¡±

    The sound was so soft, so weak, that Yuan hardly recognized the word.

    Yuan turned to look up at the Gun looming over him. The giant monster could have stomped the young Gunsoul to paste with a single step, but it did no such thing. Its gun-arms pressed against both sides of its barrel-face like a man struggling with a potent headache.

    ¡°Run¡­ away¡­¡± The Gun¡¯s screech carried the painful clicks of a thousand triggers, drowned out by the whirring of its countless cylinders. ¡°Get¡­ Away¡­¡±

    What was that pained sound coming out of its maw? Black oil droplets dripped down the Gun¡¯s barrel and fell near Yuan, carrying both the smell of rancid salt and the acrid tang of gunpowder.

    ¡°Are you¡­¡± Yuan blinked in utter disbelief. ¡°?

    The Gun wailed.

    Had Yuan been a Scrap, his eardrums would have ruptured from the sheer noise. The Gun¡¯s scream threw him back and spread vibrations across the air. The shoulder-cannons soon fired an artillery barrage at random, sending heavy projectiles across the smoking desolation. One of them nearly hit Revolver, who counterattacked with qi-bullets of his own. His shots would have killed the likes of Gayak in a single hit, but failed to make the Gun budge nor take notice. The monster continued to unload its payload without rhyme nor reason. The sight reminded Yuan of a godlike child reveling in tearing down a human anthill.

    The Gun was mindless violence and mayhem incarnate. Almighty power without purpose.

    With nowhere to run and nowhere to go anyway, Yuan decided he wouldn¡¯t perish without a fight. He barely managed to move his hands enough to coat his arm in a cylinder Barrier. ¡°Recoil¡­ Blas¨C¡±

    A bullet coming from the west shattered Yuan¡¯s Barrier before he could complete his technique.

    Yuan had expected this, but neither the shot¡¯s direction nor its qi signature. He immediately recognized it.

    Arc.

    His own mentor had sniped him from leagues away.

    Yuan¡¯s confusion was only matched by the sting of betrayal.

    He didn¡¯t have much time to think. The Gun finally deigned to focus on him, light building up inside its barrel-nose for a fatal shot. Yuan glared back at the face of his incoming death, refusing to beg nor kneel.

    A metal locomotive rammed into the Gun from the east in a cataclysmic collision.

    Yuan could only stare in disbelief as a familiar spirit-train hit his own patron demigod at phenomenal speeds. Something so big and so long shouldn¡¯t move faster than a bullet, yet it did. A feng shui corridor of qi propelled it forward with such force that it pushed the Gun back and caused it to misfire. A shining qi meteor erupted from its barrel-head and surged at the horizon. A devastating explosion rocked distant hills and reduced them back to rubble.

    Yuan brimmed with joy once he noticed Holster¡¯s familiar qi presence onboard. Moreover, through some miracle, the spirit-train appeared to have been untouched by the Gun¡¯s bombardment. S~?a??h the N?v?lF?re.?et website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    His relief lasted until the Gun pushed back against the spirit-train, its inhuman might more than a match for Orient¡¯s bulk and speed. The monster stopped the vehicle dead in its tracks and prepared to fire at the locomotive at point-blank range.

    A qi-charged bullet hit the Gun from the west.

    Revolver¡¯s projectiles failed to leave a dent in the demigod of ultraviolence, but Arc¡¯s blasted off half its metal face and caused it to flinch. It produced no mighty fireball nor blinding flash of qi; in fact, the only hint that it was a bullet that hit the creature instead of an artillery cannon was the lack of smoke or wide explosion that followed. The hit was subtle in its appearance and devastating in its execution.

    The Gun¡¯s head snapped in the surprise attack¡¯s direction, ignoring the spirit-train trying to drive over it.

    ¡°Arc¡­¡± the Gun rasped. ¡°Please¡­¡±

    Hearing his mentor¡¯s name coming out of that creature only confused Yuan more.

    Arc¡¯s actions didn¡¯t make any sense. Why would she attack the Gun after preventing Yuan from doing the same? If Arc had wanted Yuan dead, she could have hit his bullet-core easily enough. Did she want him to focus on running away rather than fighting the Gun? Something wasn¡¯t right here¡­

    The Gun didn¡¯t leave him time to think things through. The monster let out an agonizing wail, then kicked the spirit-train away with all of its monstrous strength. The locomotive derailed to the side with a loud boom, its wheels spinning on empty hair, its chimney helplessly breathing smoke into the ruins.

    Revolver jumped to rejoin Yuan. ¡°Your friends are onboard that train,¡± he told his proteg¨¦e with a grim, heavy tone. ¡°Are you ready to wager your life to save them?¡±

    Yuan grit his teeth and nodded sharply. He refused to let Orient and Holster perish, whether Arc allowed it or not. ¡°Yes.¡±

    Revolver chuckled. ¡°Then brace yourself.¡±

    He holstered his guns, then joined his hands into a series of mudras. However, no verbal mudra escaped Revolver¡¯s mouth. He instead chose to sing a low, humming tune.

    ¡°I call upon luck, the fairest judge,¡± Revolver whistled to the wind. ¡°Chambers loaded, let¡¯s play¡­¡±

    A wave of metal qi erupted around Revolver before quickly engulfing Yuan. It expanded outward until it reached the Gun and caught it like a fish in a net. The energies solidified into a ring that trapped the three of them at the exclusion of everything else.

    Yuan at first thought that Revolver had used a Barrier until he sensed a veil falling upon him. Reality itself twisted within the circle¡¯s confines, bending space and time. Revolver¡¯s will overflowed from his body and seeped into the world. Its gravity warped the very fabric of existence.

    An .

    Yuan recalled, though he hadn¡¯t expected his fellow Gunsoul to have reached it yet.

    ¡°Two pull the trigger, one walks away!¡± Revolver chanted as the Dao itself bent to his will. ¡°Steel and chance no longer wait!¡±

    A sniper¡¯s bullet struck Revolver in the jaw and blasted half of it away in an attempt to silence him; far too late.

    ¡°Death¡¯s Roulette, seal our fate!"

    The light of Revolver¡¯s soul swallowed Yuan and the Gun alike.

 Chapter 42: The Gun Will Never Die

    The world became a roof, a set of walls, and a skull-faced table. The ruins of Fleshmarket transformed into an empty saloon smelling of cigarettes and cheap alcohol. There were no doors or windows, with only a single flickering lamp above the central table for a light source.

    Yuan found himself sitting in a chair, with Revolver and the Gun on his left and right respectively. The latter had shrunk from a giant to a human-sized avatar of itself, its cannon-hands replaced with metal fingers. Yuan¡¯s weapon and wounds were gone, as were Revolver¡¯s own. No violence could take place within these walls.

    None of the players could harm each other, except through the .

    Three golden revolvers lay on the table, one for every participant. Three slumbered within three of their chambers each. One killshot for each player.

    By pressing the gun against their head and firing, a player had one chance out of six to kill another player or themselves. They had no way of opening the chamber and checking before pulling the trigger, and nobody could leave or enter the pocket dimension until it claimed a life.

    Yuan knew this instantly. Information poured into his mind by the power of the Authority in a complex sutra script, teaching him the rules of the final game one of the three competitors would ever play.

    This was, without a doubt, the world¡¯s purest contest of luck and guts. The law of the Authority would allow no cheating nor foul play to taint it. The promised death would strike the loser no matter their rank or power. Slaves and slavers, scraps or cultivators, gods or men¡­ would survive Death¡¯s Roulette. No defense or intervention would protect the loser from their fatal fate. Not even the Authority¡¯s creator would be spared.

    Within this imaginary space, even reality followed the rules. Death would switch from an outcome into a certainty.  s?a??h th? ???el F?re.n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    This place was Revolver¡¯s wish embodied; a place where all were equal before Death¡¯s uncaring barrel.

    The Gun was the first of them to grab their weapon, doing so with eagerness. Revolver quickly imitated it with a fearless laugh that inspired Yuan to follow his lead.

    ¡°I warned you, my trump card doesn¡¯t discriminate.¡± Revolver pressed his gun against his head. ¡°Ready, Yuan?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Yuan replied before grabbing his weapon. He had already known death once, and he wasn¡¯t in a hurry to experience it again. ¡°But this is the only chance we have.¡±

    The Gun was too strong for them to defeat in a standard gunfight, even if Yuan himself had been in top shape. Having more participants slightly increased their mathematical odds of slaying the Gun through this Authority if Yuan counted correctly. It was the most rational course of action for them to take if any of them hoped to survive.

    It was the only way to keep Holster and Orient safe.

    So Yuan hardened his resolve and pressed his weapon to his temple. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    The Gun shot first. It pressed its revolver into its maw and pulled the trigger with what could pass for desperation. The first shot was a blank but it kept trying to shoot itself before the chambers could align properly.

    Revolver fired a blank into his head, the blast¡¯s damage canceled by Death¡¯s Roulette no-violence rule. His aim was steady, but the way his hand wavered betrayed the tension in his fingers.

    Yuan held his breath and pulled the trigger. A shiver ran down his spine as he heard the gunpowder ignite inside this weapon. The shadow of death passed over him, ready to take him back to the Nowhere.

    A blank hit his skull.

    The impact was soft, almost gentle. Yuan¡¯s relief only lasted until the cylinder turned and switched to a new chamber holding an unknown projectile. His finger wavered on the trigger.

    Yuan had fought many battles without hesitation, yet his hand now trembled. There was something deeply unnerving about turning one¡¯s own weapon against themselves. Like he was with death instead of it.

    Something about the Gun¡¯s behavior knotted Yuan¡¯s stomach too. Its enthusiasm for playing Death¡¯s Roulette contrasted with its earlier cries and pleas.

    Yuan realized.

    If the Gun wanted to die so badly, why didn¡¯t it simply blow itself up? It had more than enough firepower to do so. Did it attack Fleshmarket hoping to find a Gunsoul that could do the job? But why would Arc try to prevent Yuan and Revolver from fulfilling its wish then?

    His mentor¡¯s name echoed in his head like a dire warning.

    A terrible shiver ran down Yuan¡¯s spine as a trio of gunshots silenced his thoughts. He hadn¡¯t even noticed his finger pulling his revolver¡¯s trigger. Had the Authority compelled him, or did he simply lose his nerve?

    Whatever the case, it didn¡¯t matter. Somebody else died.

    Yuan couldn¡¯t tell whether which shot settled the matter, but he immediately identified the loser all the same.

    A hole appeared on the back of the Gun¡¯s head, bleeding oil.

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    A tense, agonizing silence settled between the shocked contestants. The monster sat still for a second, its arms going limp and its fingers letting go of the golden revolver. It collapsed head-first onto the table, a puddle of oil spreading from its skull.

    Death¡¯s Roulette had claimed its victim.

    The Authority collapsed onto itself immediately afterward, with reality snapping back to its normal state. The saloon crumbled to reveal the ruins of Fleshmarket. The revolver in Yuan¡¯s hand was gone, replaced with Holster¡¯s custom gift.

    The Gun returned to its true, immense shape, but the lethal wound it suffered within Death¡¯s Roulette carried over. The colossus pitifully collapsed on its left side with a final whimper. Its immense hide landed with a surprisingly low ¡®thump¡¯ that silenced its whirring and clicking.

    Time seemed to grind to an abrupt halt for a moment. The only noise in the air came from the spirit-train¡¯s wheels turning in the air and the crackling embers of Fleshmarket¡¯s ashes. The Gunsouls stared at their dead patron, half-expecting it to rise back up and finish them off.

    ¡°Fuck¡­¡± Revolver muttered to himself after putting his broken jaw back into place. Like Yuan, it took him a while for his mind to accept the impossible truth. ¡°I¡¯ve killed the .¡±

    As incredible as it sounded, he was right. The Gun¡¯s corpse began to rust away before their very eyes. Its metal parts became orange dust and its flesh swiftly rotted to nothingness. It was like witnessing the ravages of centuries compressed in a minute¡¯s time.

    Revolver¡¯s subdued surprise soon turned to pride and joy.

    ¡°I killed the Gun!¡± he shouted with a laugh. ¡°Look, Yuan! I created this Authority for just this occasion, but I never thought it would actually work!¡±

    Yuan was too tense to share his enthusiasm.

    His feeling of unease hadn¡¯t diminished in the slightest, and his bullet-core continued to pound hard inside his skull. The Gun had perished ignominiously, its body quickly degrading back to rust, but the omnipresent threat of incoming calamity remained strong.

    That was too easy. Even with an Authority, it shouldn¡¯t have been that easy. Every fiber of Yuan¡¯s body told him that he had missed a key detail.

    A crimson blur landed near the Gun¡¯s carcass, the ground turning to a bullet carpet at its contact.

    Yuan immediately recognized Arc¡¯s qi long before the dust settled around her. It didn¡¯t surprise him that a cultivator of her caliber could cross the distance between Fleshmarket and her lair within minutes on foot; she had managed to snipe him from that far away earlier after all.

    What shocked him was that she showed up at all.

    Arc had warned him that her cracked bullet-core prevented her from controlling her Authority, and he could see the result now. A hastily conjured Barrier struggled to contain Headshot Forge within a five-meter radius of Arc, warping reality around her until it transformed the ground into a fertile ammo field; from her strained facial expression and the sheer amount of qi leaking from her, containing her own technique without a leyline demanded a tremendous effort from her part.

    ¡°No,¡± she muttered to herself, ignoring Yuan and Revolver alike to examine the Gun¡¯s remains. Her voice brimmed with sorrow. ¡°No, Jim, please no¡­ not ¡­¡±

    ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± Revolver asked, one of his guns swiftly finding its way to his hand. ¡°Are you the gal who shot me earlier?¡±

    Arc didn¡¯t answer. She knelt next to the pile of rust the Gun had become, which a gust of wind swiftly blew away.

    A man¡¯s corpse lay amidst the ashes, his sweater and pants were riddled with gunshot holes.

    T¡¯was a young teenager many years younger than Yuan himself, with lustrous blond hair stained red by blood pouring out of his head¡¯s wound; the same that killed the Gun. His pale white eyes stared at the sky with an expression of relief. Arc tightly cradled his hand with her own, a deep scowl of defeat all over her face.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on here?¡± Revolver asked, his joy replaced with confusion. ¡°I don¡¯t unders¨C¡±

    His words turned into a scream of agony.

    Yuan¡¯s head snapped in his ally¡¯s direction as he collapsed to his knees, his hands holding onto his skull as if he were suffering from a monstrous headache. A malevolent aura of crimson bloodthirst enveloped Revolver, followed by a suffocating pressure of demonic qi. Gunsmoke fumes swirled around the Gunsoul, taking on the shape of skulls riddled with small explosions.

    A gun¡¯s barrel burst out of Revolver¡¯s forehead.

    Yuan froze in horror as his fellow Gunsoul¡¯s wail turned into a symphony of whirring cylinders and clicking triggers. His helmet face opened to reveal rows of growing gunshell-fangs.

    ¡°Children screaming at school¡­ soldiers rattling in the trench¡­ snipers bleeding in the jungle!¡± Revolver screamed, his words ringing with gunfire and artillery booms, his voice growing more metallic. ¡°Food for the firing squad! Meat for the lead grinder and the gunpowder pit!¡±

    It was then, when Yuan took a good look at Revolver¡¯s qi, that everything fell into place.

    Why the Gun craved death, yet encouraged others to flee rather than fight; why Arc tried so hard to prevent either Gunsoul from killing the creature without inflicting lethal damage; and why Gatling Man called it a curse he had to free himself from.

    The Gun wasn¡¯t an individual.

    It was a .

    A curse to be .

    No way Yuan could accept this. ¡°Revolver¨C¡±

    He hardly crawled half a meter closer to his ally before a bullet hit the ground in front of him, pushing him back.

    ¡°Back off,¡± Arc said, her rifle-arm pointed at Revolver. ¡°He¡¯s already doomed.¡±

    And worst of all, she was right.

    Yuan could tell from the way Revolver glared at him with hardly contained bloodlust. The malicious aura of unfettered violence surrounding him only grew more menacing. The very essence of death by firearms overwhelmed his fellow Gunsoul¡¯s body and mind, quickly reshaping him from a man into an incarnation of murder.

    ¡°Riddle them all with holes!¡± Revolver¡¯s mouth foamed oil at the seams. ¡°Have to shoot¡­ something¡­ !¡±

    Revolver raised his namesake weapon, and for a very brief second Yuan thought he would turn it in his direction. However, it seemed a sliver of his ally¡¯s humanity struggled against the demon he was quickly turning into.

    Revolver turned his gun on himself and pulled the trigger.

    It jammed.

    He tried against and again to shoot himself, to no avail. The Gun¡¯s curse had taken hold of him, denying him any escape that wouldn¡¯t further its cycle of destruction.

    Revolver¡¯s cruiser drove to his side. Unlike the spirit-train, it suffered damage from the previous Gun¡¯s rainfall, its steel hide riddled with so many holes that Yuan wondered how it could still drive. Yet it answered its master¡¯s call anyway, thrumming and waiting at his side even as he transformed into a monster.

    ¡°Can¡¯t¡­ can¡¯t resist¡­ bloodlust¡­ too strong! !¡± Revolver threw away his namesake¡¯s weapon and moved towards his ride. ¡°Get away, Yuan¡­ must get away¡­¡±

    ¡°Then run,¡± Arc said with a voice full of pity. ¡°Run into the wasteland to seek your demise.¡±

    Yuan powerlessly watched Revolver climb onto his cruiser. The very man who had helped him bounce back from his first death underwent a monstrous fate worse than death, and he couldn¡¯t do .

    ¡°Forgive me¡­¡± Revolver grabbed his crusier¡¯s handle the best he could, even as his fingers turned into barrels. ¡°Forgive me!¡±

    His cruiser¡¯s wheels burned brightly and carried the spirit-machine across the ruins. Yuan watched Revolver disappear into the distance and the endless wasteland sprawling across the horizon; searching for victims or for the sweet release of death.

    Yuan looked around himself. Arc¨Cwho and said ¨Ccradled the previous Gun¡¯s corpse with sorrow and regret; the city lay in ruins, its inhabitants were probably slain to the last man, woman, and child; and the spirit-train had derailed. Even the sight of Holster, Bucket, and a few survivors crawling out of the machine gave Yuan no sense of fulfillment.

    The battle for Fleshmarket had finally concluded.

    And nobody won.

 Chapter 43: Among the Ruins

    Yuan buried Gayak and Polio in the city of the dead.Telling which pieces of meat belonged to them and which ones belonged to the thousands of victims that the Gun claimed today was a difficult task, even with his qi sight. The bombardment shredded them to pieces alongside Gatling Man¡¯s remains and countless others. Throwing them into a ditch proved much easier than digging individual graves.

    Yuan didn¡¯t want to give his enemies a fair burial out of respect¨Csince none of them deserved it¨Cbut while a cultivator¡¯s hungry ghost was a pale shadow of what they were while alive, they remained very dangerous. Yuan had no intention of allowing his dead foes to torment the living any longer.

    Yuan had heard tales that the Deathsong allowed hungry ghosts to linger after death to give them one last chance to settle their affairs and pass on to their next life without regrets; others said it was to force the living to take responsibility for their dead and ensure a fair burial for .

    If so, then she had succeeded. Yuan had spent the better part of the day carrying corpses around to a trench dug by Bucket and the others where Holster had been giving the dead the Last Rites sutra nonstop, silently praying for their souls. Other men gathered everything they could salvage onto the spirit-train; mostly pieces of Metallist tech, weapons, or supplies that survived the bombardment. Getting the vehicle upright again had taken a lot of effort, even with Yuan¡¯s own superhuman strength.

    From what Yuan gathered, Orient saved her passengers from the bullet rain by creating a Barrier around herself with Holster¡¯s help. He guessed that spending days around him gave them enough insight to defend themselves against the Gun¡¯s bombardment.

    The rest of the city didn¡¯t fare as well. The Gun¡¯s visit thoroughly destroyed every building in town and leveled the ground to such a degree that even the sewers and basements turned into tombs. They¡¯d only managed to find a handful of survivors hiding so far, and the encroaching sunset would put an end to those searches soon.

    Moreover, Orient could only rescue around a hundred people; mostly a handful of Bullet Church armed men, their families, and civilians who took refuge with the cult. Hardly enough manpower to cover a ghost town of Fleshmarket¡¯s size.

    Yuan thought grimly as he tossed his enemies¡¯ remains into a trench filled with hundreds of human remains.

    Not only were hundreds of dead people still undiscovered and likely to become hungry ghosts by the next day, but the Gun¡¯s bombardment also contaminated the city¡¯s water reservoir with lead. It could no longer sustain itself even if the survivors stuck around to rebuild it.

    Fleshmarket was doomed.

    At least Yuan could walk again. His broken foot had healed enough to let him stand, though his body ached in so many different places. He would need to find a moment to cycle through his qi in order to fully complete his Third Coil transformation.

    When Bucket and the others finished covering the trench with dirt, Yuan took a good look at the sky. The sunset encroached over the horizon. They had run out of time.

    ¡°Nightfall comes upon us,¡± Yuan said. ¡°Prepare to board on the spirit-train.¡±

    One of the gravediggers dared to ask him the question on everyone¡¯s lips. ¡°Board it to ?¡±

    Yuan had no idea, but anywhere would be safer than a ghost-infested city.

    ¡°Prepare to board,¡± he insisted before patting Holster on the shoulder. ¡°You did well. I¡¯ll join you and Orient in a minute.¡±

    He had one last person to pick up before leaving Fleshmarket.

    Holster nodded obediently, then returned to Orient with most of the survivors. Only one of them remained behind, staring at Yuan through his helmet with empty eyes.

    ¡°Sir¡­¡± Bucket said, his voice quiet and subdued.

    Yuan froze. Bucket hadn¡¯t spoken a word since he had stepped off the spirit-train to witness the devastation. All of his cheery zeal had turned into quiet, grim contemplation.

    ¡°Is this what the Gun Father wanted for us?¡± Bucket asked, his gaze turning to the destroyed city around them; a smoking ruin agonizing under a gunsmoke sky. ¡°Death to the world?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Yuan replied bluntly. He saw no point in indulging Bucket¡¯s delusions, especially not after . ¡°The Gun is not a god. It¡¯s just another mindless killer with more power than most.¡±

    He expected Bucket to insult him or go into another religious tirade, but he did no such thing. The man remained quiet for a while, taking in Yuan¡¯s words. None of his fellow cultists had celebrated Fleshmarket¡¯s destruction either. After this, they¡¯d probably realized that they had projected their own beliefs onto an entity that couldn¡¯t care less for them. They had played at war, only to find that they¡¯d been worshiping the all along.

    ¡°If you value anything on this earth, I suggest you change your faith to someone else,¡± Yuan suggested. ¡°To a god who will cherish it.¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­ I¡­ I see that now.¡± For the first time since Yuan met him, Bucket appeared to listen to him; listen. ¡°I¡­ will consider it, sir.¡±

    Bucket sounded so crushed and lost that Yuan couldn¡¯t help but feel pity for him. Neither of them had wished for this disaster to unfold.

    Yuan left Bucket to his own doubts and looked for Arc. He didn¡¯t have to try too hard; her immense qi and flawed Authority acted like a torch in the night for his qi sight. He found her meditating in front of a makeshift tombstone of rifles and scrap metal.

    She had buried the previous Gun there on her own, refusing any help to either raise the tomb or give him the sutras. Yuan suspected that this was her way to grieve.

    ¡°Who was this person?¡± Yuan asked.

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    Arc turned her head away from the tomb. ¡°A dear friend.¡±

    ¡°Yet you said ,¡± Yuan accused her, his voice sharper than a blade. He couldn¡¯t keep his anger at her in check anymore. ¡°If I had known¨C¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve told many Gunsouls the truth over the last decade,¡± Arc said dryly. ¡°Half of them thought they would be the exception to the rule, or that they could master the Gun¡¯s power for themselves. The heroes among them tried to destroy it, only to get themselves killed.¡±

    ¡°I would have done neither of those things!¡±

    ¡°Truly?¡± Arc snorted. ¡°You came to me craving the Gun¡¯s secrets, and unlike the Gatling Man, you showed no wish to change your cursed Path. I¡¯ve seen of you.¡±

    ¡°There is only one of me,¡± Yuan replied sternly.

    ¡°Then how do you explain this disaster?¡± Arc waved her hand at the desolation around them, at the smoking ruins and collapsed walls riddled with holes. ¡°You wished for it.¡±

    Yuan bristled. ¡°You¡¯re wrong.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Let me remind you what you said to me before leaving for this place.¡± Arc scoffed and threw his own words back at him. ¡°¡±

    Yuan recoiled as if he had been slapped in the face. An unbearable weight of guilt fell upon his shoulders, crushing and overwhelming.

    ¡°You planned to use the techniques I taught you to solve this place¡¯s ammo shortage in the hope that its sects would wipe out each other, and they ,¡± Arc said coldly. ¡°So answer me: what came out of it?¡±

    Yuan¡¯s hands tightened into fists. He was angry at Arc, but mostly at himself.

    He couldn¡¯t deny the truth of her words. He had hoped to arm the sects warring over Fleshmarket hoping they would slaughter each other, casualties be damned.

    Did his own actions help lure the Gun to Fleshmarket? If they did¡­ If they did¡­

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think it would get this bad,¡± Yuan muttered to himself.

    ¡°Maybe, but it¡¯s what you got,¡± Arc replied coldly. ¡°That¡¯s the Gun Path for you: an endless procession of death, killing, and violence. Your gunslinger friend just became the latest link in a long chain of sorrow.¡±

    Hearing about Revolver¡¯s fate made Yuan¡¯s skin crawl. His fellow Gunsoul was out there roaming the wasteland, a maddened beast trapped in such a painful state of suffering that his predecessor desperately sought death to escape it.

    ¡°Is there any way to free him?¡± Yuan asked. ¡°If the Gun possesses whoever kills it¨C¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t to,¡± Arc interrupted him. ¡°A Gunsoul that kills the Gun comes first in the priority order, nothing more.¡±

    Yuan¡¯s gunpowder blood froze in his veins. Under different circumstances, might have become the Gun.

    ¡°What about sealing it away?¡± he asked.

    ¡°My companions and I have tried . We blew up the Gun remotely, lured it into a fight with a caretaker spirit it couldn¡¯t possess, entombed it in a place we believed it couldn¡¯t escape¡­¡± Arc shook her head. ¡°Yet it returned each and every time. Any Gunsoul can become the new Gun, and anyone who has ever died from a firearm can rise as one of us. The Gun has plenty of vessels to choose from.¡±

    ¡°¡± Yuan muttered under his breath as he recalled the Bullet Church¡¯s song. ¡°¡±

    Arc nodded, her face wearing a scowl of defeatism. ¡°So long as someone out there kills his fellow man with a firearm, the Gun will never die.¡±

    ¡°What is it really?¡± Yuan asked. ¡°The Gun?¡±

    ¡°One of the demigods of ultraviolence.¡±

    ¡°Demigod? ?¡± Yuan squinted at her. ¡°How many are there?¡±

    He¡¯d assumed there had to be at least another being similar to the Gun when Arc explained that nuclear cultivators worked along the same principles earlier, but her tone told him there were more than two.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know the exact number,¡± Arc confessed. ¡°Each weapon family has its Gun. The Nuke, the Blade, the Bomb, the Biohazard, the Arson¡­¡± She tilted her head to peek over her shoulder, her eyes unseen behind her blindfold. ¡°Why do you think infernals and supernatural beings ask for sacrifices? Why else would the Hitobashira be so precious among these parts?¡±

    Yuan crossed his arms and pondered the subject for a while. ¡°Because spirits get power from death?¡±

    Arc nodded sharply. ¡°When someone is slain, their qi is released back into the world. Dedicating a victim¡¯s death to another gives that big burst a direction. Spiritual entities can harness that flow of qi and gain power from it.¡±

    ¡°So that¡¯s what the Gun is? An infernal associated with death by firearms?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Arc replied. ¡°The Gun death by firearms.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t see the difference.¡± S?a??h the N?v?lFir?(.)n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡°I told you that a murder victim¡¯s qi goes to whoever the sacrifice is dedicated to,¡± Arc said. ¡°Where do you think that burst of qi goes when someone is killed, say, in a random gunfight undedicated to anyone?¡±

    The pieces finally fell into place. ¡°To the weapon that killed them.¡±

    ¡°Yes. That¡¯s why you hear tales of dragonslaying blades or guns that never miss. The qi of these weapons¡¯ victims partly rubbed off on them until it gave them supernatural properties.¡± Arc focused back on her friend¡¯s makeshift grave, and the rifle serving as its foundation. ¡°But most of that energy goes to the of a weapon.¡±

    ¡°And eventually all that power incarnates into a spirit, like how a patch of Thunderlands manifests a caretaker,¡± Yuan muttered to himself as he finally put everything into context. ¡°A demigod of death and ultraviolence.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re the true lords of the wasteland, growing stronger with each murder no matter who calls the shots,¡± Arc stated. ¡°They¡¯re not equals in power though. Nuclear weapons are scary, but they didn¡¯t kill all that many people across history when you tally the body count. The Spear and the Blade were the top dogs for a long time before fading out of prominence. The Gun usurped their spot for the most part.¡±

    ¡°Do each of them have their own kind of Gunsouls?¡±

    ¡°They all have a dedicated Path, but their children don¡¯t walk it the same way we do,¡± Arc replied. ¡°I don¡¯t think they follow the same reincarnation cycle either. The Gun is the only one that¡¯s passed on from Gunsoul to Gunsoul, as far as I know, and I¡¯ve heard that the Blade prefers to possess swords rather than people.¡±

    Yuan¡¯s stomach sank as he pondered his mentor¡¯s words. Revolver warned him that the Gun always returned to visit its Gunsouls, and now he knew why. Either the Gun killed its children, or they won the right to become its new host to further the cycle.

    A fate that would befall Yuan one day.

    ¡°Is there no way to break the curse?¡± Yuan asked. ¡°Even if the Gun will exist ¡®till there¡¯s nobody left to shoot at each other, it should be possible to free its victims somehow.¡±

    ¡°I met a Long Dragon Sage once, who told me that the Gun curse could only be broken with a ¡®Perfect Shot¡¯: the right shot with the right bullet, fired with the right gun at the right place at the right time for all the right reasons.¡± Arc snorted. ¡°I¡¯ve spent the last few years trying to craft that perfect bullet. You saw how my attempts fared against the Gun when I tried to save you and your friend¡¯s lives. They barely fazed it.¡±

    ¡°Maybe it wasn¡¯t the right shot, gun, place, time, or reason,¡± Yuan countered.

    ¡°When will it be then?¡± Arc knelt near her friend¡¯s grave. ¡°I¡¯ve spent trying to free Jim. I¡¯m astonished he lasted that long as the Gun, to be honest¡­ and now he¡¯s gone forever.¡±

    Was that why she had waited in the Ammobog for so long? Praying that she could craft the right bullet by the time the Gun visited her, and that by some miracle no other Gunsoul had taken up the title since? Her subdued reaction told Yuan that she considered it a fool¡¯s hope too; one that had been dashed forever today.

    What did that make of Yuan then?

    It was cryptic as far as prophecies went, but the sight of Revolver struggling against the bloodlust overcoming him continued to haunt Yuan. His fellow Gunsoul had saved his life twice, first from Polio and then from the Gun itself.

    Yuan wasn¡¯t a man to leave such debts unpaid. He refused to let one of the few men to have shown him unconditional kindness suffer forever. If there was a way to free Revolver from the Gun¡¯s curse, Yuan would find it even if it delayed his quest for revenge for a time.

    He couldn¡¯t let an ally die on him again.

 Chapter 44: New Stop on the Road

    The spirit-train departed Fleshmarket by nightfall. It was hideously overcrowded. Its wagons were meant to house a few dozen passengers at most, not five times that number of people with all the belongings that they could bring with them. Orient had to set aside space in the luggage, panoramic, and restaurant cars to host everyone.

    For his part, Yuan ended up relocating to the engine room at the train¡¯s front alongside Holster and Arc. The latter sat on a bench next to the former, who held her arm and served as a stabilizing influence for her broken bullet-core. Holster managed to suppress Arc¡¯s Authority back inside her body, though Yuan could tell from the sweat on his charge¡¯s forehead that it strained her to her limit.

    As for Yuan, he spent most of his time cycling his qi. His Third Coil body presented so many changes.

    He healed frighteningly for a start. His broken ribs put themselves back together in minutes and a single qi cycling session stitched back all the wounds he sustained from his drawn-out fight with Gayak and Gatling Man.

    However, it didn¡¯t heal the way a human¡¯s body should. Strong yet incredibly flexible black metal skin replaced the scar tissue that should have grown on his chest, ankle, and where he took heavy wounds. His veins had taken on a steely hue, their coils transforming into barreled conduits carrying liquid gunpowder through his body. When Yuan cycled his qi, his muscles now felt closer to intertwined triggers, pistons, and other mechanical contraptions than pieces of flesh. His wounded lungs roared like engines inside his rib cage each time he took a breath, and he always exhaled gunsmoke now.

    Yuan nerves had transformed into circuits that further heightened his senses. felt so goddamn slow around him, like his mind processed time at a much quicker pace than most. He picked up on things he didn¡¯t before, like subtle changes in temperature and vibrations in the air. His vision had sharpened to the point he could see in the dark. He¡¯d also noticed holes forming in the center of his palms and feet; hidden exhaust ports meant to help him with the Recoil Fist.

    Yuan was slowly transforming into a creature better suited to use the Gun Path¡¯s techniques. His bullet-core replaced his flesh with firearm pieces the way a borg replaced each part of his anatomy with electronic devices.

    Yuan knew that walking the Path of the Gun meant to become a human weapon, but the more he progressed on it, the less ¡®human¡¯ and the more ¡®weapon¡¯ he became. He couldn¡¯t pass for a Scrap anymore.

    What would he look like once he completed the process?

    Yuan used to think he was transforming into something beyond humanity, if it meant gaining the power to slay the likes of Slash and Gayak. Seeing the Gun in all of its monstrous glory made him wonder.

    Yuan didn¡¯t care how he looked, but he wished to remain . He didn¡¯t want his new body to alter his mind.

    He didn¡¯t want to think like a gun.

    The wagon¡¯s door opened and Orient walked in with a food platter. The portions were small and mostly contained a mix of gruel and bread. They had started rationing due to lack of supplies.

    ¡°My apologies for the dinner¡¯s delay,¡± Orient said with creased eyes and pallid skin. Yuan knew that her human avatar was a mere projection of the train itself, but it showed all the symptoms of fatigue nonetheless. ¡°Completing the food inventory for all passengers and rationing accordingly took more time than I expected.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, Orient,¡± Yuan reassured her while Holster hungrily grabbed a piece of bread. ¡°We all know you¡¯re doing your best.¡±

    ¡°I fear that my best is not enough, Honored Passenger Yuan.¡± Orient gave Arc a worried, stressed glance. ¡°My infrastructure cannot support so many passengers, and Lady Arc¡¯s presence inflicts a heavy strain on me even with Miss Holster¡¯s assistance. Having her Authority pushing out from within me is¡­ distressing.¡±

    Arc, who had mostly kept to herself so far, let out a shrug. ¡°I¡¯ll climb off once we reach the leyline locus. I just need a lift to ration my qi so I won¡¯t collapse and unleash my Authority before I can reach it.¡±

    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    Holster looked up at her without a word. Arc¡¯s head tilted slightly in her direction. Could she communicate with her the same way Orient did?

    ¡°No,¡± Arc said sternly. Yuan guessed that Holster offered to serve as her anchor. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t spend your life serving as an old ghost¡¯s crutch.¡±

    Holster bit her lips, but continued to stare at Arc with insistence. It failed to move her.

    Orient turned to stare at Yuan, her hands joining together. She looked quite anxious. ¡°Forgive me for interrupting your cycling session, Honored Guest Yuan, but may I ask you a question?¡±

    Yuan frowned. He had never heard Orient sound so . ¡°Go on.¡±

    ¡°I am a spirit-train. My purpose is to carry my passengers to their chosen destination.¡± Orient turned to stare at the door leading to the other wagons. ¡°But these people have nowhere to go. Their home has been destroyed and no one can think of a place to seek refuge in, nor will their current supplies sustain them for long.¡±

    Yuan clenched his jaw. The same thoughts had crossed his mind too. He tried to tell himself he didn¡¯t owe these refugees anything, that giving them a lift was already a pretty big favor, but he couldn¡¯t lie to himself. He had unknowingly contributed to Fleshmarket¡¯s destruction by helping lure the Gun to it.

    He couldn¡¯t just wash his hands of a mess he¡¯d helped start.

    ¡°What am I supposed to do, Honored Guest Yuan?¡± Orient asked him, pleading for directions. ¡°Where am I supposed to go next?¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± Yuan tried to come up with something and came up short. The only settlement in the region large enough to possibly house these refugees would be Battletown. While they were bound to visit it anyway, everything he¡¯d heard about the Yinyang Khan suggested it would be a terrible idea. The passengers would either end up as slaves or victims.

    He wanted to say he had no idea yet. Yuan was never comfortable in a leadership role and usually defaulted to Mingxia¡¯s judgment back when they were a team. He simply wasn¡¯t cut out for the job.

    However, a look at Orient¡¯s distraught expression convinced him to think this through. She looked so lost and desperate for an answer that he didn¡¯t have the heart to leave her hanging.

    Yuan considered their options. Finding a safe refuge for their passengers was a relatively long-term priority. Keeping them alive in the short-term would require both supplies and space.

    An idea crossed Yuan¡¯s mind. ¡°Can you grow longer, Orient? Gain more wagons?¡±

    She frowned at him. ¡°I cannot create new cars, but I can assimilate existing ones.¡±

    ¡°Is there any place where we can salvage those then, alongside supplies?¡± Yuan asked. ¡°Maybe at one of those stations where you usually stop by?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I think so.¡± The fact Yuan had a plan in mind reassured and energized Orient. ¡°One should be on the way to Battletown. Now that Lady Arc no longer obstructs the leyline, I can make a stop there.¡±

    ¡°Then let¡¯s do so,¡± Yuan decided. ¡°It will take time to find a refuge where we can drop off our new passengers, so we¡¯d be better off adapting your facilities to house more people until we can figure things out. Maybe equip you with weapons to ward off marauders.¡±

    ¡°You should drop me off behind you once you reach the leyline focus,¡± Arc said. ¡°I¡¯ll stay there and stabilize my Authority again.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t let Revolver suffer forever,¡± Yuan replied. ¡°There has to be a way to land your Perfect Shot and free him, and you¡¯re going to help me.¡±

    ¡°I will abide by our agreement to teach you my techniques, but I cannot leave the leyline without causing my Authority to go haywire,¡± Arc warned him, ignoring the insistent look Holster sent her. ¡°And I refuse to use a Human Pillar. I ain¡¯t a fiend.¡±

    Yuan crossed his arms and pondered the problem. This presented quite the issue. They would have to stay on the move to find supplies, and the spirit-train couldn¡¯t exactly run back and forth for him to attend Arc¡¯s lessons. Though he felt he owed the refugees his help, killing Slash, freeing Revolver from the Gun, and fulfilling his oath to Arc to hunt down Manhattan remained his priorities for now.

    Orient noticed his concern and then clapped her hands. ¡°May I suggest an alternative?¡±

    Arc tilted her head in her direction, suddenly curious. ¡°An alternative?¡±

    ¡°Honored Passenger Yuan¡¯s wise suggestion gave me an idea,¡± Orient said. ¡°I suspect Miss Holster and I could reshape one of my cars to serve as a special Barrier that would stabilize Lady Arc¡¯s Authority.¡±

    Yuan raised an eyebrow. ¡°Is that even possible?¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t survive it, spirit,¡± Arc replied. ¡°You said it yourself. Holding me strains you enough as it is, even with the girl¡¯s assistance.¡±

    ¡°Because none of my infrastructure is designed to hold you,¡± Orient replied confidently. ¡°With the correct feng shui arrangement and sutras scripts, I believe I could design a car that would serve as your bullet-core¡¯s anchor. It would diminish my speed, since I would need to fuel its Barrier with qi from the leyline I use to travel, and you will be forced to stay within its confines so as not to endanger my body¡¯s integrity or the other passengers¨C¡±

    ¡°But you could transport her around,¡± Yuan said, his body shivering with enthusiasm. This would neatly solve their problems all at once.

    Arc shrugged with skepticism, though she didn¡¯t close the door on the proposal. ¡°I don¡¯t care whether I stay put in one place or if you carry me around in a box,¡± she said. ¡°If you succeed, then sure, I¡¯ll go along.¡± S?a?ch* Th? N0v?lFir?.?et website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡°Then we have a plan,¡± Yuan decided. ¡°We¡¯ll drop you off at the leyline focus for a time, visit the station, and see what we can salvage from there.¡±

    They would figure out what to do with their passengers afterwards.

 Chapter 45: Straying from the Path

    Arc looked ready to collapse from exhaustion by the time they dropped her off.Yuan half-expected her old valley¡¯s landscape to return to normal after her temporary departure, but Arc¡¯s qi had partly rubbed off on it. Though it showed nothing obviously supernatural like rifle trees or gunpowder rivers, the valley¡¯s ground was saturated with lead and the local blasted trees boasted sheets of steel for bark. Arc had left her mark for years to come.

    Once they reached the valley¡¯s center, Arc fully unleashed Headshot Forge once again. The landscape shifted back into a desolate bog of rifle-trees and gunpowder ponds in an instant, like a house welcoming its owner home.

    ¡°Are you well?¡± Yuan asked Arc after helping her sit on a forged ammo chair. He had been careful to carry her alone away from the spirit-train until Orient and the others were well beyond her Authority¡¯s reach.

    ¡°Bit tired,¡± his mentor grunted back. ¡°Never left this place for so long in four years.¡±

    Yuan could see why after spending the last few hours in her company. Arc¡¯s broken core leaked out more qi in a minute than he could cycle in a day. Holster¡¯s assistance barely helped contain the leak.

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re worried?¡± Arc scoffed at Yuan¡¯s concern. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Yuan replied. He knew better, but he could tell his mentor hated looking weak in the eyes of others. ¡°What will you do until we return?¡±

    ¡°Keep making bullets, I suppose. Except now I¡¯ll try to land that Perfect Shot for friend¡¯s sake rather than mine.¡± Her response drew a chuckle from Yuan, much to her curiosity. ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡±

    ¡°You sound so pessimistic,¡± Yuan said. ¡°But many would have given up by now.¡±

    ¡°I made my bed long ago while I was still a fool, and I¡¯ll die in it.¡± Arc shrugged and rested in her chair. ¡°Keep cycling until your body fully adapts to your Third Coil¡¯s qi output. You aren¡¯t even halfway through your metamorphosis.¡±

    Yuan frowned at this news. His body already boasted more metal than flesh beneath his skin. Should he expect to gain gun wings too?

    ¡°What will I look like by the end of it?¡± he asked, though he already knew the answer: .

    ¡°It¡¯s different for all of us, depending on the shape of our soul and how we approach our chosen Path,¡± Arc replied. ¡°After a while, your body will have changed enough to host an innate technique. We¡¯ll figure out which one to teach you once you reach that stage.¡±

    Yuan scowled. ¡°Then I will have to commit to the Gun Path.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Arc grabbed a bullet off the ground and thoughtfully studied it. ¡°Transitioning from the Third to the Fourth is the point of no return. You have to engrave the Gun Path into your very soul. Going deep means closing off other options ¡®till you can¡¯t turn back anymore.¡±

    Reaching the Fourth Coil meant the Gun Path.

    Yuan wouldn¡¯t have hesitated not too long ago, back when he believed becoming a Gunsoul was a blessing rather than a curse in disguise. Though he never asked to follow the Path, it had seemed tailor-made for him. Seeing his soul¡¯s true shape reflected in the moonlight only solidified his belief.

    However, that was before he encountered the Gun. He had witnessed what fate awaited him at the end of his Path; what incarnation of murder and senseless slaughter he could turn into.

    And it gave him pause.

    Arc detected his confusion and pounced on it. ¡°You should switch out to another Path while you can,¡± she said. ¡°Take the Moonlight Sect¡¯s offer or somethin¡¯. Their Path is pretty chill, all things considered, and their Wayfinder can grant you your half-life back.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­¡± Yuan cleared his throat, his heart wavering with hesitation. ¡°I¡¯ll think about it.¡±

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    As much as he feared becoming the new Gun, Yuan sects with every fiber of his being; a hatred which the Fleshmarket sect war only reinforced. Joining the Black Moon¡¯s folk felt like selling out to the people who had looked down on him all his life.

    Was there another Path open to him that wouldn¡¯t involve betraying his principles? A road he could walk with his head held high?

    Arc remained silent for a moment, then dismissed him. ¡°Come back if you¡¯ve decided to damn yourself and dance in the Bullet Hell. Otherwise, I¡¯ve done all I can. I¡¯ll still hold you to your end of the vow though.¡±

    Yuan had expected as much.

    He would fulfill that promise, whichever Path he settled on.

    Yuan struggled to cycle his qi all night long.

    He did everything right. He sat in deep meditation in the engine room, where the spirit-train¡¯s qi concentration was at its apex. He focused on nourishing the steel slowly overtaking his organic parts, reinforced his organs, and practiced his sutras to sharpen his concentration.

    However, Yuan struggled to absorb any more qi than he did the previous day. Nay, he cycled slower than when he was a mere Second Coil. His body struggled to properly absorb anything. Yuan felt like he was back in the days when he caught a lung disease in his youth and struggled with each breath.

    After wasting hours hardly making any progress, Yuan decided to change his routine. He opened his eyes to find Holster sleeping soundly on the blanket next to him with a scribbled piece of paper in her hands. Orient sat nearby and scratched her hair lightly, the moonlight shining outside the closed windows in a pitch-black sky.

    ¡°Do you struggle with your meditation, Honored Guest Yuan?¡± Orient asked. ¡°You seemed frustrated.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s one way to put it,¡± Yuan muttered to himself as he peeked out beyond the glass. A dry expanse filled with sulfur pits spewing yellow smoke into the air slowly phased out the Fleshmancer¡¯s fields of white flowers. No plants could take root here. ¡°I¡¯m straying.¡±

    ¡°Straying?¡± Orient asked with a hint of concern. ¡°From what?¡±

    ¡°My Path.¡± S?a?ch* Th? ??v?l_Fir?.?et website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Buried emotions and fears formed emotional debris slowing down one¡¯s flow of qi. Yuan burned his old issues away under the cold moonlight, only for his newfound hesitation to clog his circuits again. Doubting his own Path had thrown him out of tune with it.

    ¡°Is this about what happened to your fellow Gunsoul?¡± Orient asked softly.

    Yuan¡¯s brows furrowed slightly. ¡°You knew?¡±

    ¡°I am a spirit, Honored Guest Yuan. I sensed that gun demon possessing him before he departed.¡± Orient joined her hands together. ¡°You are afraid of ending up like him.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Yuan replied bluntly. ¡°A Gunsoul¡¯s fate is to either die by the Gun¡¯s hands or become the new Gun. I know that now.¡±

    ¡°Unless you change your Path while you still can,¡± Orient guessed. ¡°Why not accept the Moonlight Sect¡¯s offer, then? I recall that they offered to take you in.¡±

    ¡°Because¡­ how to say this¡­¡± Yuan pondered how to explain it to Orient in terms that she would relate to. ¡°The Gun Path fits me like a glove, and I sects. It¡¯s like I had an idea of my final destination, but now I wonder if it¡¯s the right one for me midway through and I don¡¯t like any other stop. Does that make sense?¡±

    ¡°It does,¡± Orient replied with genuine compassion. She had suffered from a similar hesitation not too long ago. ¡°It is an awful feeling, not knowing where to go. Perhaps a good night of sleep would help clear your mind? Dreams do seem to silence my passengers¡¯ fears.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I need to sleep anymore, or even if I can.¡± Yuan hadn¡¯t felt the call of dreams for a while. His Third Coil body didn¡¯t feel tired at all. ¡°Can you sleep, Orient?¡±

    ¡°A spirit can close their eyes, Honored Guest Yuan, but the door to sleep remains shut to us,¡± she replied while glancing at Holster with a kind smile. ¡°What awaits humans beyond the veil remains a mystery to me. I would like to cross it someday though. I always assumed a dream would be a pleasant place.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not always the case,¡± Yuan replied, the moonlight filling him with a morose mood. ¡°I used to have nightmares at her age.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Is that unusual for humans?¡± Orient seemed genuinely curious. ¡°I do not recall you suffering from those during your stay inside my walls.¡±

    The innocent phrasing slightly amused Yuan. ¡°Nightmares come and go,¡± he replied. ¡°I think I¡¯ve grown so numb to loss that they stopped haunting me.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Orient glanced at Holster. ¡°I have never seen Miss Holster suffer in her sleep. She always dreams peacefully in our company.¡±

    That surprised Yuan. He would have expected Holster to suffer from night terrors after everything she went through. Did his and Orient¡¯s presence reassure her that much? Not that he would prefer to hear her scream at night¡­

    ¡°What did she draw?¡± Yuan asked as he checked the piece of paper in Holster¡¯s hands. It resembled a poor, messy sketch of two wagons, one shaped more like a temple than anything functional and the other with furniture arranged into a bagua array. ¡°Are those your plans for the new wagons?¡±

    ¡°Miss Holster had fun drawing them,¡± Orient replied with a small chuckle. ¡°The second car is meant for you.¡±

    ¡°For me?¡± Yuan studied the design and quickly figured out its purpose. ¡°The feng shui¡¯s interior arrangement focuses qi at its center.¡±

    ¡°Miss Holster thinks it will improve your cultivation.¡± Orient gently caressed their charge¡¯s hair with motherly affection. ¡°She believes in you more than you believe in yourself, Honored Guest Yuan.¡±

    Yuan didn¡¯t know what to make of that. His bullet-core surged with a mix of pride, affection, and shame. Even after the Fleshmarket disaster, even after seeing the Gun and what its bloody Path promised, Holster still thought Yuan would pull through somehow.

    He wanted to live up to her expectations.

    And he would do anything in his power to do so.

 Chapter 46: Neko Station

    Greenery surrounded the station, its emerald grass glittering under the sunlight.Yuan struggled to believe in his own eyes. Unlike Bucket and the other spotters, who all used binoculars to observe the place from afar from the wagon¡¯s roof, his new eyes let him see far into the distance without assistance.

    The train station looked quite similar to the one Yuan encountered in the Thunderlands, a forgotten, multi-floor ruin of cracked walls and broken windows. This one, however, was covered in creeping vines and vibrant leaves rather than rust. Yuan had never seen anything like it outside of a sect¡¯s compound.

    That alone would have been astonishing, but the area around the station raised all kinds of alarm bells. First of all, other buildings flanked the half-buried railway alongside tall trees with twisted black bark and whose branches held pale fruits that radiated with a yellow glow. Abandoned wagons and railroad cars wrapped in moss littered the ground. A vast field of grass and blooming wildflowers surrounded them, their fragrance so overwhelming that Yuan could smell it from a wide distance.

    The station was enveloped in quite a lot of qi too. Not as much as a patch of Thunderlands or Arc¡¯s Authority, but enough to rival a sect¡¯s compound. s?a??h th? N?v?lF?re.?et website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see any fence, sir,¡± Bucket warned.

    ¡°A Barrier surrounds the station,¡± Yuan replied. He could see the faint flow of qi being redirected around the flower field into a bagua formation. Either the flowers themselves served as its foundations, or they simply grew over lines dug into the earth below them. ¡°This place is dangerous.¡±

    Unguarded greenery in the middle of the wasteland was either a trap for the unwary, or a very powerful entity¡¯s property. Yuan doubted it was a sect compound, since its owners would have restored the buildings and put up signs to announce their allegiance. The station probably belonged to a lonely cultivator of considerable power or a spirit.

    Yuan scanned the area for more details until he noticed a strange occurrence: a big statue of a spotted cat wearing a cap nearly identical to Orient¡¯s own stood in front of the station entrance behind a set of crimson torii gates. Its bronze body remained unblemished by the growing vegetation and it radiated no small amount of qi. Yuan focused on it with his sharpened senses, reading its fluctuations until he could identify its nature.

    The Stoneskin Sect kept cats to deal with vermin raiding their granaries, so he immediately recognized their peculiar smell in the air. The ambient qi carried many other peculiar signs; the taste of fresh meat on the tongue; the scent of soothing tea; and the welcoming aura of a safe place. The first bothered Yuan, but he detected neither blood nor malevolence in the air either. Strange.

    A place of abundance dedicated to a cat¡­

    ¡°Maneki-neko,¡± Yuan muttered. ¡°I think that this place is a Maneki-neko¡¯s den.¡±

    ¡°A Maneki-neko?¡± Bucket and his fellow spotters immediately rejoiced at the news. ¡°This is good news! Will the spirit offer us sanctuary?¡±

    ¡°If we don¡¯t abuse its generosity,¡± Yuan replied. He had only encountered one of these benevolent cat spirits in his lifetime, when it gave his team shelter on the condition that they would leave at dawn. He had been so kind and polite, even when he warned Jaw-Long that he would turn him into a coin if he dared rub their host¡¯s belly. ¡°It¡¯s not alone either.¡±

    Yuan sensed another presence within the station, one that smelled of bloodless flesh. At least it didn¡¯t seem hostile; a malevolent entity would have quickly corrupted the Maneki-neko¡¯s den by now.

    ¡°Sir,¡± Bucket warned, his goggles pointing south. ¡°Trouble.¡±

    Yuan glanced away from the station and quickly noticed a set of shadows observing the spirit-train from atop a blasted hill. He mistook them for two men on motorcycles at first, until he noticed their plastic hands and faceless mannequin faces.

    The scouts immediately retreated behind the hill before Yuan could shoot either of them.

    ¡°Plastic men,¡± Yuan said, his jaw clenching. He wasn¡¯t looking forward to dealing with those vermin. The scavengers couldn¡¯t keep their hands off anything reeking of oil, which they processed to build more of their own kind; and some of them could even cultivate. ¡°How many weapons do we have?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the one thing we don¡¯t lack, sir,¡± Bucket replied. ¡°You think they¡¯ll attack soon?¡±

    ¡°Not immediately, but it¡¯s likely.¡± The spirit-train was too tempting a prize for them, but also too well-defended for a small warband to take. Those plastic men would either come back with larger numbers or not at all. ¡°Tell everyone who can fight to take positions near the windows.¡±

    ¡°About that, sir,¡± Bucket said. ¡°We loaded up a few small artillery cannons inside Lady Orient¡¯s wagons when we left Fleshmarket. We could mount them on the roofs.¡±

    ¡°It would help,¡± Yuan conceded. ¡°If Orient allows it.¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± his friend¡¯s voice echoed from the wagon beneath their feet, startling everyone. Orient¡¯s laugh resonated across the spirit-train¡¯s length. ¡°Did you forget that you were standing atop my back?¡±

    ¡°Honestly, yeah,¡± Yuan replied. He was so used to communicating with her human avatar that he forgot she could see, hear, and speak through any of her wagons. ¡°Any opinion on this place?¡±

    ¡°All stations are safe havens for my kind,¡± Orient replied. ¡°This one beckons us with open arms.¡±

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    ¡°The Barrier says otherwise.¡±

    ¡°The Barrier will let us through, Honored Guest Yuan,¡± Orient said calmly. ¡°Lady Tama welcomes all trains and their passengers.¡±

    ¡°Lady Tama? You mean the Maneki-neko?¡± Yuan raised an eyebrow. ¡°You know her?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Orient replied with a metallic giggle. ¡°But knows .¡±

    Yuan pondered what she meant, but trusted Orient enough not to doubt her judgment. She hadn¡¯t hesitated to ram herself into the Gun to save his life, even though she knew she stood no chance against a demigod of ultraviolence. He knew she had his back.

    Yuan thought as Bucket and the others retreated inside the wagons through a trapdoor in the ceiling. Orient manifested them at his request to help the spotters move around.

    He had only experienced it with his old team, then Holster and Orient. It was a breath of fresh air after so many years of keeping his guard up around people for fear of betrayal or ambush. Relaxing even.

    He wanted to protect Orient and Holster so they could feel safe around him too.

    The spirit-train ended its pause and drove towards the station, phantom tracks manifesting over the buried railways and overlaying with them. The vehicle moved past the Barrier without any issue. The very flowers that kept it up moved around to let them pass.

    As a wave of wood qi washed over him, Yuan quickly realized why this place allowed vegetation to prosper in the middle of an arid wasteland. It worked on a similar principle to Item Materialization, focusing on containing specific energies while excluding others in order to purify and maximize their concentration.

    Yuan wondered if he could replicate a similar method inside Orient¡¯s wagons. Since Holster believed they could create ¡®focus rooms¡¯ capable of concentrating qi in an area, it should be easy to build greenhouses to grow food for passengers.

    The spirit-train quietly stopped in front of the station and its cat statue. Yuan climbed down from the roof right in time for hundreds of eyes to stare at him from the buildings¡¯ windows and the trees¡¯ branches.

    Cats.

    A large crowd of small, utterly normal cats walked out of the station to observe the spirit-train. Their leader soon materialized from the very statue bearing her likeness. The bronze statue then leaped off its pedestal before transforming into a being of flesh and fur, her jade eyes greeting Yuan with a friendly wink.

    The Maneki-neko was quite the strange creature to look at. Her spotted fur was a palette of sandy brown, black, and white. The cap on her head was nearly identical to that of Orient¡¯s, albeit with the emblem bearing different words written in a script Yuan could not comprehend. A beaded necklace hung around her neck, its medallion bearing a strange inscription: .

    The spirit¡¯s power was less than a shadow of the Gun¡¯s overwhelming strength, but she was deceptively mighty nonetheless. Her feminine, kind aura reminded Yuan of Orient.

    ¡°Welcome, welcome, Orient Junction TR-61!¡± she said with a voice that was both old and strangely childish. ¡°Honorable Eternal Stationmaster Tama Daimy¨­jin, caretaker spirit of train stations, bides you, your crew, and your passengers an excellent day!¡±

    Her greeting surprised Yuan. He used to think only Thunderlands could manifest caretaker spirits, but Orient¡¯s earlier manifestation already disabused him of that notion.

    ¡°Greetings, Honorable Eternal Stationmaster Tama,¡± Yuan replied with a deep bow. ¡°I am Yuan Guang, a passenger on this spirit-train. I humbly ask for your hospitality.¡±

    ¡°Of course, of course, you are most welcome!¡± The Maneki-neko purred with happiness, her body radiating a peaceful and relaxing smell. ¡°Come out, come out!¡±

    The door to the engine opened, with Orient and Holster stepping out together to greet their host with bright wide smiles.

    Yuan¡¯s eyes widened in shock.

    had stepped off from the train.

    ¡°How is this possible?¡± Yuan muttered under his breath, his shock suddenly replaced with concern. ¡°Are you well, Orient?¡±

    ¡°Thank you for your concern, Honored Guest Yuan, but I am fine,¡± Orient replied before bowing in front of the Maneki-neko. ¡°It is an honor to meet you once again, Lady Tama, and you have my deepest gratitude for inviting my spirit to wander inside your abode.¡±

    ¡°You are welcome, welcome, Orient Junction TR-61,¡± Tama replied with a purring chuckle. ¡°Every train may share my home.¡±

    ¡°I am surprised you would remember my name after all these years,¡± Orient replied. A group of passengers led by Bucket climbed off the train behind her, now that they figured they wouldn¡¯t suffer an ambush. ¡°I was worried that you would misremember me. We last met when the world was a much larger place.¡±

    ¡°I never forget a train, never, never!¡± Lady Tama nodded to herself. ¡°I¡¯m so glad you became a spirit too! So smart and so strong too! So very elegant!¡±

    Orient giggled. ¡°You are too kind, Lady Tama.¡±

    Yuan noticed that the other cats had found the courage to greet Orient¡¯s passengers. Holster stared at them with a mix of childish wonder and apprehension. It was probably her first time seeing a feline in the flesh.

    Her fear didn¡¯t last long. A brave spotted cat quickly rubbed its fur against her leg, which encouraged Holster to pet it in return. Her adorable smile warmed Yuan¡¯s heart.

    The zealous glint in Bucket¡¯s eyes, not so much. The strange man¡¯s glance switched from Orient to Tama back and forth, his hands trembling with what Yuan identified as religious enthusiasm. Those were the same looks he used to make at Gunsouls.

    Yuan had a feeling about this.

    ¡°How many stations do you watch over, Honorable Lady Tama?¡± Yuan asked out of curiosity. She hadn¡¯t manifested in the Thunderlands nor near Arc¡¯s Authority, so he wondered how far her reach extended.

    ¡°All those bearing my image!¡± The cat spirit hummed a strange tune to herself, her face the very picture of happiness. ¡°I was just a regular cat once, Super Stationmaster at Kishi Station! Then I died and humans raised me to godhood with treats and prayers, until one day the Spiral danced and let me meow back! A hundred stations I watch over now, yes yes!¡±

    So Eternal Stationmaster indeed a sect rank. It must have once been an powerful organization for one of their pet cats to become a caretaker spirit capable of protecting multiple places at once.

    ¡°Mordy, Mordy!¡± Tama called out to the station. ¡°Come out, come out! We have visitors!¡±

    ¡°I have heard,¡± a deep, powerful voice answered from within the building. ¡°Make yourself at home, travelers.¡±

    A monster lumbered out of the station.

    Yuan immediately adopted a fighting stance the moment it came into view. The beast was a rolling hill of mauve skin, fat, and brawn assembled in a shape that resembled a mix between a toad and an obese man; all while wrapped in an ornate golden cloak. His flesh gleamed with qi that smelled of both filth and freshly butchered meat, while his face stretched into traits that reminded Yuan of a bat with crimson eyes.

    It was his pendant that caught Yuan¡¯s eyes, however, and caused more than a few people to draw their weapons. Its golden medallion bore the infamous emblem of a pair of jaws eating the earth.

    The monster showed no fear or tension. In fact, he greeted them with a genial smile full of sharp teeth.

    ¡°I am Mordiggian,¡± he introduced himself. ¡°A humble Sin-Eater cultivator, and your host for the day.¡±

    One of the Sky-Biter¡¯s followers stood before them.

 Chapter 47: Behind the Curtain

    Among the thousand Paths, none were as reviled as the Sky-Biter¡¯s.When the Spiral Dancer awakened mankind to the secrets and wonders of cultivation, she showed them all the Way; but not all Paths were as kind as her own. Some were paved with pain and blood.

    Few of the people who had witnessed the Unmaking lingered among the living, but their tales of terror survived to this day; stories of great teeth spanning the length of the sky and closing upon mountains to drink the oceans and swallow continents. A single bit that unmade the world.

    The Sky-Biter¡¯s table scraps still orbited around the planet as spinning rings of stone and ice. The Fanged Coast itself earned its name because one look at the map showed the outline of an immense tooth.

    Obviously, his followers inspired loathing in the wasteland that their Wayfinder had created. No respectable settlement would tolerate a Sin-Eater cultivator among them, and most lynched them on sight. They were a miserable lot forced to hide in the most forgotten corners of the earth.

    Yuan¡¯s hand had grabbed his revolver the moment his eyes identified the sect¡¯s symbol. Lady Tama¡¯s cap immediately covered his barrel before he could shoot the Sin-Eater in the head.

    ¡°No violence, no no no!¡± Lady Tama stomped the ground with a hiss that rippled through the air. ¡°No!¡±

    An earthquake shook the entire station, its walls creaking and its ground trembling beneath Yuan¡¯s feet. A few of his armed followers collapsed and tripped behind him, though his aim remained steady.

    ¡°Peace,¡± the so-called Mordiggian said, his palm raised in appeasement. ¡°I have no quarrel with you and seek none.¡±

    Yuan didn¡¯t believe him, but Orient¡¯s soft hand gently touched his arm and lowered it. ¡°Lady Tama would never allow a troublemaker inside her station.¡±

    ¡°Meow, that¡¯s right, right!¡± Lady Tama nodded furiously. ¡°Mordy is a good guest, who feeds cats and men alike! Show them, Mordy!¡±

    ¡°As you wish,¡± the Sin-Eater replied. His nails extended into black claws sharper than knives, which he pressed against his neckline.

    Then he gutted himself all the way to the navel in one swift stroke.

    Holster let out a startled cry of surprise, which a few other refugees echoed. Yuan himself took a step back at this sudden and unexpected turn of events. He awaited the torrent of blood and bile that would inevitably spill out of the Sin-Eater cultivator¡¯s stomach with apprehension.

    Yuan would never have expected .

    Fresh meat poured out of Mordiggian¡¯s cut in a rolling red mass. Sausages, kidneys, meatballs, and entrails too numerous for the man¡¯s body to contain soon piled up on the ground in a veritable crimson feast.

    While Yuan recoiled in disgust¡ªa sentiment shared by many¡ªTama¡¯s crowd of cats hurriedly grabbed the pieces of meat for themselves. By the time Mordiggian seemingly ran out of food, a pile of flesh nearly as tall as himself stood in front of his obese gut. His skin stitched itself together in an instant.

    ¡°This is my flesh, and these fruits my labor,¡± Mordiggian declared as he grabbed a shining fruit from one of the trees and presented it to Yuan. ¡°Feast as much as you would like.¡±

    Experience had taught Yuan that there was no such a thing as a free lunch in the Unmade World, and hence he looked at the fruit with suspicion. Was it poisoned? Cursed? Or did the Sin-Eater expect a favor in return for his hospitality?

    Yuan felt many eyes on himself, mostly from behind. Everyone waited for his reaction, which would likely determine how their entire stop at this strange station would unfold. He could cut the tension in the air with a knife.

    His allies would defer to his judgment, and it made him uneasy.

    Yuan hated being thrust into a leadership role, especially with a hundred lives on the line and now that he doubted his own Path. He had no idea how to proceed. S~?a??h the N???lFire.n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Yuan knew his old friend never reached a decision without gathering all the information she could obtain first. It helped her project an image of intelligence and thoughtfulness that reassured everyone else.

    Yuan decided to play it safe, first scanning the fruit with his qi sight. It looked like a green sphere glowing with qi and relatively ordinary otherwise. Yuan didn¡¯t detect any malevolence or hidden corruption within the gift. Quite the contrary, he had never seen food with such immaculate purity in all the wasteland.

    ¡°This is a spirit fruit charged with wood qi,¡± Yuan said.

    ¡°I cultivate spirit herbs, roots, and fruits,¡± Mordiggian confirmed. ¡°You and your Human Pillar companion will benefit the most from them. Your fellow men shall find them nourishing too. Each of them is worth a full course meal.¡±

    Yuan couldn¡¯t believe his ears. ¡°You would just them away to strangers?¡±

    ¡°I do not consume them, for I feed on the sins of our few visitors, and good deeds spin karma¡¯s wheel the right way.¡± Mordiggian shrugged his massive shoulders. ¡°Those who seek to shed their bad karma are welcome to feast with me inside. I shall purify them.¡±

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    Yuan squinted at him with skepticism. While most settlements refused to allow Sin-Eaters among them, he had heard rumors that a few of them welcomed them in secret because of their Path¡¯s unique technique. Namely, they could consume the sins and bad karma of another; allowing even the most hopeless of ruffians a shot at a better reincarnation or to purify a corrupted spirit.

    Yuan studied Mordiggian head to toe. His monstrous appearance was most likely the result of countless sins that he had accumulated from his ¡®clients.¡¯

    His generosity served a tangible end. Yuan could trust that kind of self-interest.

    ¡°Thank you, Honorable Mordiggian,¡± Yuan said graciously after accepting the gift. He felt the tension lessen the moment he seized the fruit within his palm. After all, if the only powerful cultivator on the spirit-train convoy didn¡¯t show concern, then why should Scraps? ¡°Your generosity honors you.¡±

    Yuan could only hope that his choice hadn¡¯t doomed his fellow survivors. If that Sin-Eater did anything suspicious, he wouldn¡¯t hesitate to strike first and ask questions later.

    ¡°You are welcome to take as many fruits as you wish, along with their seeds should you desire to plant more yourself,¡± Mordiggian replied. His genial smile somehow managed to make his horrible face seem nonthreatening. ¡°Please be mindful not to take more than what you need for the sake of future travelers in peril. They too may require help.¡±

    ¡°We shall not abuse your or Honored Eternal Stationmaster Tama¡¯s trust,¡± Orient added politely. ¡°May we also require your help with another matter? If it is not too much of a bother.¡±

    ¡°Of course, of course!¡± Lady Tama agreed happily, without even asking for details first. ¡°What do you need?¡±

    ¡°As you can see, I carry too many passengers for my current capacity, which inflicts undue stress on them.¡± Orient¡¯s grace and poise reminded Yuan of Mingxia in so many ways. ¡°And I see that you have many unused cars. Would you mind if I borrowed a few?¡±

    Lady Tama kindly accepted her request. ¡°Take, take as many as you want!¡±

    ¡°A spirit-train of your power could host a greenhouse on its rails,¡± Mordiggian said after stroking his oily chin. ¡°I would suggest that you take a few of my spirit-trees with you to feed your passengers. I would gladly teach you how to cultivate them, should you require guidance.¡±

    ¡°A greenhouse?¡± Orient clapped her hands with enthusiasm. ¡°That would be wonderful.¡±

    ¡°It would,¡± Yuan conceded. Being able to produce their own food would help feed their passengers, though he had no idea how long and how much effort it would take to produce spirit-fruits. The Stoneskin Sect often spent perfecting them.

    ¡°Work will wait, wait!¡± Lady Tama declared, her will utterly unshakable. ¡°Let me give you a tour! Yes, a full tour!¡±

    ¡°With pleasure, Lady Tama,¡± Orient replied while flashing Yuan a telling glance. It would be polite for them to entertain their Maneki-neko host for now. ¡°It will be such a delight.¡±

    With their safety ensured, the spirit-train¡¯s passengers flowed out of its wagons to enjoy a well-deserved rest. The most starved of the lot even dared to take from the sausages and other meats Mordiggian so disgustingly offered them. Most simply followed Orient as Lady Tama excitedly beckoned her inside the station to visit its rooms. Yuan encouraged Holster to follow after them, which she did with a spotted cat following her closely.

    ¡°Will you indulge my curiosity for a moment, Gunsoul?¡± Mordiggian asked him. ¡°It is the first time I have met one of you in decades, and you reek of guilt.¡±

    Yuan¡¯s hands clenched into fists. ¡°Is that a veiled threat of some kind?¡±

    ¡°No, of course not.¡± The Sin-Eater¡¯s crimson eyes betrayed his wariness. ¡°You do not trust my intentions. You believe I am deceiving you, or Lady Tama. I assure you, I seek no trouble with you nor those under her protection.¡±

    ¡°I doubt that,¡± Yuan replied flatly. ¡°Your kind has a well-deserved reputation for destruction.¡±

    ¡°Awful, yes. Well-deserved? I must disagree.¡± Mordiggian shook his head with a heavy sigh. ¡°Our Wayfinder does not deserve your scorn. Lord Kou was the bravest, purest man which I have ever encountered. A noble soul the likes of which only come once in a century.¡±

    ¡°Lord Kou? Is that the Sky-Biter¡¯s true name?¡± Yuan immediately caught on the man¡¯s peculiar wording. ¡°You say you¡¯ve him?¡±

    To his utter shock, Mordiggian answered with a sharp nod. ¡°I was there when the Spiral Dancer danced the world anew, and when Lord Kou ate its sins."

    ¡°But that would make you¨C¡±

    ¡°Not old,¡± Mordiggian replied with a bellowing laugh. ¡°Many of our people could live over a century without cultivating. Very few remember those days. Not many of us survived half a century of various ascensions, let alone with their wits and minds intact. The more ancient a mind, the more it struggles to adapt to a new reality.¡±

    Yuan crossed his arms. The Sin-Eater spoke with such confidence about such an unbelievable boast that he was either telling the truth or was the best liar he had ever encountered. ¡°I struggle to believe you.¡±

    ¡°What reason would I have to lie?¡±

    ¡°Plenty. You could be trying to impress me or to excuse your Wayfinder¡¯s crimes.¡± Yuan considered the matter before thinking of a good test for the cultivator¡¯s knowledge. ¡°What do you know about the Cube of Natho?¡±

    ¡°Do you mean the Cube of ?¡± To Yuan¡¯s surprise, Mordiggian appeared to recognize the object¡¯s name. ¡°I haven¡¯t heard of this artifact since the Unmaking. How did you learn of its existence?¡±

    Yuan clenched his jaw and wisely decided not to give too many details. ¡°I carried it around.¡±

    ¡°The real cube? It was found?¡± Mordiggian¡¯s face twisted into a grimace. ¡°This world would have been a safer place had it remained lost. Do you still have it?¡±

    ¡°No, and I don''t know where it is,¡± Yuan lied through his teeth. He knew better than to tell a cultivator about its current location. This would spare him messy complications. ¡°A nuclear cultivator is looking for it though. I¡¯m trying to find out why.¡±

    Mordiggian scowled grimly. ¡°I would search for it relentlessly too if it was god sealed inside it.¡±

    He spoke those dreadful words so casually that it took Yuan¡¯s mind a few seconds to register their significance. A shiver traveled down his spine soon after.

    Encountering Manhattan had given him a glimpse of what lay behind the curtain, only for Mordiggian to rip it out and show him the ugly truth it hid; information equally disturbing and frightening in equal measure.

    ¡°Come again?¡± Yuan asked softly.

    ¡°The Nuke. The demigod of atomic annihilation and nuclear weapons. The western alliance trapped its avatar inside the cube over forty and a half years back.¡± Mordiggian marked a short, heavy pause in between his sentences. ¡°You truly didn¡¯t know.¡±

    Yuan held the Sin-Eater¡¯s gaze for a while, then took a deep gunsmoke breath. ¡°Tell me .¡±

    ¡°It is a very long story, so you will not mind if we discuss it over some spirit-leaf tea?¡± Mordiggian took his silence for a yes. He clapped Yuan on the back, then invited him inside a building near the railway. ¡°It all begins with the end of the world¡­¡±

 Chapter 48: The World Is Always Ending

    Yuan and Mordiggian discussed the apocalypse over a cup of spirit-leaf tea.Though he had seen cultivators partake in the practice in the past, Yuan had never been allowed to participate himself. Qi-charged nutrients were too rare and precious to be wasted on Scraps.

    Now that he could test it, Yuan found himself supremely . The beverage tasted terribly bitter and while it carried more qi than usual food rations, he could easily gather as much from training near a leyline.

    ¡°My sincere apologies for the taste,¡± Mordiggian said as he poured himself a cup with an ancient jade teapot. ¡°I focused on cultivating wood-aligned spirit-leaves, which is of little benefit to those blessed by the metal sign like yourself. I myself was born under the auspices of the Yin Wood Pig.¡±

    ¡°Do you believe in the Zodiac?¡± Yuan asked as he looked at the hole to his left. Mordiggian had made his lair on the second floor of a ruined pagoda with a crumbled wall exposed to the garden below them. It offered quite a splendid view of the wasteland. ¡°It always sounded so vague to me. Never put much faith in it.¡±

    ¡°I see the Zodiac like I see the wind,¡± Mordiggian replied while sitting on a dusty old cushion. The old cultivator lived modestly, with deceptively strong cobwebs keeping the cracked ceiling from falling apart. Yuan didn¡¯t see any furniture besides the tea table, rare scroll shelves, and a few ceramic vases. ¡°It pushes us in a direction, but hardly enough to throw us onto a specific course. It is merely one influence among countless others.¡±

    ¡°Strong enough for us to notice, too weak for us to care too much about?¡± Yuan glanced at the grass-covered rails below and the rusted wagons resting upon them. Lady Tama showcased a few of them to Orient¡¯s group, with the spirit-train¡¯s caretaker examining each of them closely. Yuan guessed she was considering which ones she would incorporate into herself. ¡°Were there more trains and railways during the Lost Age?¡±

    ¡°Thousands, with routes that circled the whole of Earth,¡± Mordiggian said. ¡°Men created so many technological wonders. Vehicles that could fly from one side of the world to the other in a day¡¯s time; machines that could run a thousand tasks at once; even rockets that allowed us to go to the moon.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re making this up,¡± Yuan replied in disbelief. ¡°They would have burned.¡±

    ¡°The moonlight wasn¡¯t yet the radiance that burns away falsehood,¡± Mordiggian replied while sipping his tea. Unlike Yuan, he seemed to enjoy the taste. ¡°Moonburns would have been a boon during those times. Youngsters call this era the Lost Age, but the Age of Decay would be more appropriate. Nations went to war all the time, poverty ran rampant, megacorps plundered nature¡¯s resources until the seas turned poisonous and the earth drowned in trash.¡±

    ¡°Megacorps?¡± Yuan asked, the word unknown to him. ¡°Are those demons of some kind?¡±

    His question appeared to amuse Mordiggian. ¡°You could say that. They too were evils born of human greed. Many sects follow in their footsteps to this day, seeking to commodify human suffering.¡± He shook his head in annoyance. ¡°Our people had lost their way back then. Our minds were clouded with such filth that we blinded ourselves to the Dao. The men of that time worshiped money, fame, and power rather than virtue and potential.¡±

    Yuan had heard those stories. ¡°Until the Thunderdance.¡±

    ¡°Until the Spiral Dancer,¡± Mordiggian confirmed. ¡°I never met her before the Thunderdance, though I¡¯d heard much about her. She was a holy woman from an eastern land, a mystic of immense spiritual power and knowledge. Many called her the last bodhisattva, who achieved enlightenment and yet decided to remain in this world to guide mankind to salvation.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s a bodhisattva?¡± Yuan asked. He didn¡¯t know the term.

    ¡°A spiritual rank in a religion long forgotten. Their principles weren¡¯t so far off from today¡¯s cultivation rites.¡± Mordiggian stroked his enormous gut. ¡°Most importantly, this marked her as a regressor of considerable power and wisdom.¡±

    ¡°A regressor?¡± Yuan had heard the term. ¡°Aren¡¯t they people aware of their past lives?¡±

    ¡°Indeed they are,¡± Mordiggian explained. ¡°The Spiral Dancer wasn¡¯t the first of us to awaken her core through meditation in human history, but she was the only one to succeed in the modern age; and the first person in history to ascend through the Seven Coils of Infinity and join with the Dao.¡± S?a?ch* Th? Nov?lF?re .??t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Mordiggian looked up at the vibrant sun and the golden clouds outside. For a moment he seemed ; his body anchored in the present moment, while his mind wandered past the veil of time to a past long gone.

    ¡°You should have seen her dance,¡± he said, his eyes shining. ¡°It was such a surreal yet entrancing sight. Every step thundered forth lightning from the sky, and every movement was a wave unraveling illusions and falsehoods that blinded us humans to the Way. She was a spark among men, a bolt that shocked the world awake. I watched her ascend a spiral staircase of shooting stars until she became one with the sky.¡±

    His words carried such vibrant awe that Yuan could almost hear lightning crackle in the background. He imagined a Thunderlands¡¯ veil covering the world in an instant, bringing forth spirits, demons, and the wonders of cultivation to all.

    ¡°How did it go wrong?¡± Yuan whispered, his attention turning towards the ruins of the Lost Age surrounding him. ¡°How did it come to ?¡±

    ¡°The Spiral Dancer had hoped to jolt mankind out of its self-inflicted spiritual decay and force them to look up to a brighter future,¡± Mordiggian replied after focusing back on his tea. He looked at his own monstrous reflection in the beverage with sorrow. ¡°Unfortunately, she was mistaken. A world drowning in sin and filth could only birth monsters.¡±

    Yuan quickly guessed what happened. ¡°That¡¯s when appeared, wasn''t it? The demigods of ultraviolence?¡±

    ¡°Them and countless other terrors.¡± Mordiggian shook his head. ¡°The megacorps were transformed into self-aware spirits of industrialized greed, demanding worship and stripping the earth of its resources. Maure Incorporated, Dynamis, Dismaker Labs¡­ voracious evil things, all of them. So many saw cultivation as a ticket to power and glory rather than the path to enlightenment, and the nations of the world tethered on the brink of a war that could have destroyed us all.¡±

    ¡°And no one tried to take a stand?¡± Yuan wouldn¡¯t put it past cultivators to try to seize power for themselves, but no sect would let their own world be destroyed.

    ¡°The Spiral Dancer inspired many heroes and peace bringers, but what can a few flickering lights of hope do against such an endless tide of greed and sorrow?¡± Mordiggian finished his cup. ¡°Chaos reigned for five years until Lord Kou¡¯s ascension purified the world.¡±

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    Yuan didn¡¯t buy his excuse. ¡°You mean when he it?¡±

    Mordiggian stroked his oily chin. ¡°Say you are a doctor, Gunsoul, and a patient comes to you with legs infected by gangrene. If nothing is done, the rot will spread and the person will die. Would you cut off both of your patient¡¯s legs to save their life, even knowing that they will never walk again?¡±

    ¡°Your master bit off a lot more than two legs,¡± Yuan countered.

    ¡°And yet, they had to be removed to save mankind. Was that the best outcome? No, I do not think so. Was it ? I¡¯m afraid it was.¡± Mordiggian glanced down at the group following Lady Tama, singling out Holster among them. ¡°Did you know that Lord Kou was around your Hitobashira¡¯s age when he began to cultivate, right after the Thunderdance?¡±

    Those words took Yuan aback.

    ¡°The same age as Holster?¡± He could hardly believe it. ¡°But if so¡­ he can¡¯t have ascended at such a young age¡­¡±

    ¡°Age means little in the grand scheme of things,¡± Mordiggian replied. ¡°It does not necessarily teaches wisdom, as many believe. That is born of experience, which Lord Kou had plenty of in his short life.¡±

    Yuan struggled to imagine a boy of Holster¡¯s age reaching the Dao so early, but then again¡­ his charge had shown great aptitude in the arts of feng shui and sutras. A knowledge that had been forced upon her by the cruelties of the wasteland.

    ¡°What¡­¡± Yuan cleared his throat and then found himself staring at his reflection in the tea. ¡°What was he like? This Lord Kou?¡±

    ¡°He was an orphan in a war-torn land whose name will mean little to you. A child with a great heart and strange powers he did not understand himself. He could eat the ills of his fellow man, which in turn granted him insight into the human condition.¡± Mordiggian¡¯s eyes brimmed with immense sadness; the kind which Yuan believed to be entirely sincere, raw, and true. ¡°Every day, he would tend to the poor and the needy, absolving sinners and taking their pain upon himself.¡±

    ¡°You admire him,¡± Yuan realized. ¡°You worshiped him, even back then. Even before he ascended.¡±

    ¡°I did.¡± Mordiggian rubbed his fingers against his eyelids, wiping off oily tears. ¡°He ascended too soon. His life had barely begun. Tell me, Gunsoul, how is it fair when our children are the ones who pay for our sins?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ not,¡± Yuan conceded.

    ¡°Yet it happened,¡± Mordiggian replied. ¡°Lord Kou spent five years pursuing his Path and took the Lost Age¡¯s sins upon himself when he ascended. All the wars, all the suffering, all the corpo-spirits, and countless other horrors you will never have to experience. He recreated the world anew.¡±

    ¡°He unmade it.¡±

    ¡°This world is not ,¡± his host insisted. ¡°It is .¡±

    Yuan frowned in confusion. ¡°What difference does it make?¡±

    ¡°A big one.¡± Mordiggian waved a hand at the wasteland. ¡°Look upon this empty expanse. Where you see ruins, I see the wellspring of possibility; clay waiting to be molded in a better shape than what came before.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Lord Kou gave us a second chance, and he received nothing but scorn in return.¡±

    ¡°Seems to me your master didn¡¯t do a good job at cleaning up the rot,¡± Yuan replied. ¡°The Flesh Mansion Sect sounds very much like those megacorps reborn.¡±

    ¡°Not even the Wayfinders can change human nature, Gunsoul,¡± Mordiggian replied. ¡°I suspect a few of them ascended to do exactly that and failed. The Blackmoon seemed keen on dispelling falsehoods, but free-will is a core component of the Dao and spins the wheel of karma.¡±

    ¡°So we¡¯re free to repeat our mistakes?¡±

    ¡°Maybe cultivators will fall into the same pitfalls as their predecessors, or maybe we will live up to the potential the Spiral Dancer saw in us.¡± Mordiggian waved the subject away. ¡°What matters is that we have a chance to make something better for ourselves¡­ if enough good people seize it.¡±

    Yuan clenched his jaw, then pondered the Sin-Eater¡¯s words while sipping his tea. The beverage no longer tasted so bitter on his tongue. The portrait Mordiggian presented of his master contrasted so much with the image of the larger than life, all-powerful demon king the Sky-Biter was so often presented as. The man could be lying or remembering the past through the lenses of his own prejudice... or maybe he was telling the truth.

    Yuan realized he didn¡¯t care all that much. Philosophy and grand metaphysics always flew over his head because they served little practical use. Whether he believed Mordiggian¡¯s story or not didn¡¯t change anything about his situation. It didn¡¯t matter the world changed, only that it .

    He had a more down-to-earth problem to deal with.

    ¡°You still haven¡¯t said anything about the cube,¡± Yuan reminded him.

    ¡°I am getting there, young man,¡± Mordiggian reassured him. ¡°I simply gave you the context in which it was created.¡±

    ¡°Oh, alright. My apologies for my impatience.¡± Yuan had spent so long on the road he had forgotten how to speak politely to ancient cultivators. Mingxia would have scolded him for it. ¡°So this Natho empire was one of these warring nations?¡±

    ¡° was one of the greatest military alliances of the Lost Age engaged in a confrontation with other nations,¡± Mordiggian said. ¡°In order to gather power for the inevitable world war everyone knew was on the horizon, many of these countries attempted to bind the demigods of ultraviolence into their service.¡±

    ¡°They tried to bind the ?¡± The very idea sounded absurd to Yuan. No cultivator could control such a mindless force of slaughter and destruction. ¡°Is such a thing possible?¡±

    ¡°The demigods of ultraviolence are no different from exceptionally powerful spirits or demons. It is possible to form contracts with them, or to trap and seal them. Obviously, nobody managed to do either with the Gun, who was too strong and savage to behave.¡± Mordiggian refilled his empty cup. ¡°The Nuke proved an easier target. I am not certain how NATO¡¯s cultivators managed to trap it in the cube, but they did.¡±

    ¡°But if it¡¯s trapped there, how can there be nuclear cultivators running around?¡±

    Mordiggian pointed at Yuan¡¯s bullet-core, which was stuck in his forehead. ¡°Did the Gun personally fire the bullet that killed you?¡±

    Yuan¡¯s jaw clenched. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°The demigods do not have to be physically present to influence the weapons that fuel their violent existence,¡± Mordiggian explained. ¡°NATO¡¯s leadership wished to exploit this relationship to win the war before it began. If the Gun can empower others through bullets, even those that it didn¡¯t fire by itself, then they thought that the Nuke could¡­ rear its children.¡±

    ¡°My mentor mentioned weapons that could wipe out cities in the blink of an eye,¡± Yuan muttered, his bullet-core pounding in his skull. ¡°You¡¯re talking about them, aren¡¯t you? The Children of the Nuke?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid so.¡± Mordiggian let out a heavy sigh. ¡°Nuclear weapons are much rarer than guns, but far more devastating. I¡¯d once read a report that said it would only take four-hundred of these nuclear weapons to wipe out humanity, and the world hosted over twelve thousand of them before Lord Kou¡¯s ascension. Sadly, they aren¡¯t all gone or rusted. I suspect many of them sleep underground, waiting for the signal to awaken and set off the Nuclear Age¡­¡±

    Yuan shuddered. He struggled to imagine such boundless destruction, but then again, the world had ended once already. He couldn¡¯t brush off Mordiggian¡¯s warnings so easily.

    ¡°Why would this NATO empire do that?¡± Yuan asked. ¡°Why would they destroy themselves?¡±

    ¡°I doubt they ever intended to do anything so thorough as to bring about the Nuclear Age,¡± his host replied. ¡°I suspect the cube was designed to partially bind the Nuke to a summoning contract. Whoever controls the artifact may be able to partially control its prisoner, forcing it to either neuter hostile nuclear weapons or sabotage their enemies¡¯ arsenal. It may be why these devices continue to sleep underground. The Nuke¡¯s seal prevents others from triggering them without the proper ritual.¡±

    Which neatly explained why the Yinyang Khan would seek this weapon. The ability to control these slumbering Children of the Nuke would make him the most powerful warlord in the Unmade World. Weapons capable of wiping out cities with a mere blink would destroy his enemies and cow everyone else into following his orders.

    As for Manhattan¡¯s motives¡­

    ¡°What will happen if someone wakes them up?¡± Yuan muttered under his breath. ¡°These nuclear weapons? If they detonate all at once?¡±

    ¡°I cannot say for certain what would happen then,¡± Mordiggian replied. ¡°The Children of the Nuke may bathe the wasteland in searing light, after which the strongest cultivators and spirits will survive to inherit an irradiated grave. Life may endure and bounce back in some way, or it may not. Maybe time, the seven ascendancies, and constant battles have destroyed enough sleeping bombs that their damage will remain localized. All I can say is that our world will become much less safe with the Nuke spreading its brand of nuclear death.¡±

    Yuan feared as much.

    Manhattan said that the cube could bring salvation to all. When Yuan stared at the horizon, at the desert that went on forever, he found himself having a vision of what the nuclear cultivator would see as the salvation of a broken, flawed world.

    A silent land bathed in nuclear light.

 Chapter 49: Of Gods & Men

    Yuan finished his tea in silence.He still struggled to comprehend the full severity of their situation. Yuan was a courier at heart. His existence for the last few years revolved around traveling and delivering packages. He never signed on for a high-level cultivator conflict over a Lost Age relic capable of laying waste to civilization.

    He felt a sense of responsibility for carrying the Cube of NATO around. Had Slash not intercepted him, Yuan might have successfully delivered it to Manhattan and doomed the wasteland to nuclear destruction. Even then, he might have only delayed the inevitable. Manhattan would try to recover the device, and the Yinyang Khan would cause just as much trouble with that weapon in his possession.

    Yuan didn¡¯t wish to die again. He didn¡¯t want to see Orient and Holster swallowed in a flash of light and vaporized.

    But what could he do? Manhattan was out of his league, let alone the Yinyang Khan. While Yuan was pretty sure he could take out Slash if they ever fought again, his murderer was a small fry compared to these two. Arc might help if he convinced her of the threat that the Nuke represented¡­

    Yuan shook his head. He refused to rely on another¡¯s mercy. If a man was a man, he honored his responsibilities and the cube was one of his.

    Yuan needed to get stronger much quicker¡­ but how could he do so when he struggled with his own Path?

    Mordiggian sensed his hesitation. ¡°You reek of guilt, Gunsoul. What weighs on your mind?¡±

    Yuan wondered if he should tell the Sin-Eater the truth for a moment. The man offered him answers about the cube without asking anything in return, so he felt obligated to return the favor. ¡°Have you heard of Fleshmarket?¡±

    ¡°I unfortunately have,¡± Mordiggian replied with distaste. ¡°Your followers came from that city of sin?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re here because of me.¡± Yuan took a long gunsmoke breath. ¡°Partly.¡±

    Mordiggian listened in silence as Yuan told him about the Fleshmarket Sect War, the Gun¡¯s attack on the city, and Revolver¡¯s ill-fated roulette game. The Sin-Eater didn¡¯t provide any comment and simply poured them new cups of spirit-leaf tea.

    ¡°I helped bring the Gun to that city, killing thousands,¡± Yuan said upon concluding his tale, his voice low and weak. He wouldn¡¯t lie his way out of this one. ¡°A Gunsoul who showed me kindness is now trapped in a special kind of hell because of my short-sightedness.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Mordiggian pondered what to say for a moment before nodding to himself. ¡°I will not say it wasn¡¯t your fault. You are right, you helped plant the seeds from which this disaster grew and stained your soul with sin.¡±

    Yuan scoffed. ¡°Are you judging me, Sin-Eater?¡±

    ¡°It is not my place to do so. There is no sin that cannot be absolved with proper penance.¡± Mordiggian joined his hands in a meditative pose. ¡°If it is cleansing that you seek, I can provide you with a few options.¡±

    Though he didn¡¯t entirely trust the Sin-Eater Path yet, Yuan guessed he had little to lose from listening. ¡°What do you offer?¡±

    ¡°First, I can devour you and recreate you within my hungry belly. You will be purged of your bullet-core and the Gun Path, but you will emerge with a new life of your own and purified flesh. You will be reborn free of your sins, free to begin again. Brand new.¡±

    Yuan scowled. ¡°I¡¯ll be a Scrap again.¡±

    ¡°You will be brand new,¡± Mordiggian confirmed. ¡°Alternatively, I can purge your soul of its bad karma and allow it to reincarnate. You have accumulated some good karma of your own, so your next life should be pleasant. I can allow you to keep your memories too if you wish to join the ranks of the regressors and continue your cultivation.¡±

    Yuan immediately rejected both proposals. Either would just be taking the coward¡¯s way out, and he refused to become a weakling again.

    ¡°I won¡¯t run away,¡± Yuan said. ¡°Moreover, what good would it be to reincarnate in a world that a nuclear cultivator could destroy at any time?¡±

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    ¡°They have tried to free the Nuke for half a century, and failed to this day,¡± Mordiggian countered. ¡°Maybe this time will be different, or maybe not. There will always be someone seeking to end the world. You shouldn¡¯t fear to live because your existence may end at any time.¡±

    ¡°Even so, I can¡¯t let the cube fall into the wrong hands,¡± Yuan replied, squinting at the Sin-Eater. ¡°What about you? Will you take a stand?¡±

    Mordiggian shook his head. ¡°My role is to take upon the sins of those who seek absolution and give shelter to those who need it. I take no part in the wasteland¡¯s disputes, and I have forsaken war long ago.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Many would have called him a coward, but Yuan wouldn¡¯t condemn the man who had given him supplies and advice for free when many would have demanded payment. ¡°It falls to me then.¡±

    Mordiggian stroked his chin. ¡°It is not your guilt that impairs your cycling, Gunsoul. It is . Fear that your Path will always lead to the Gun.¡±

    ¡°Where else would it lead? The Gun is the beginning and the end for us Gunsouls.¡±

    ¡°The beginning, yes. The end, I do not think so.¡± Mordiggian sipped from his cup. ¡°I¡¯ve met a nuclear cultivator too once.¡±

    Yuan frowned. ¡°Czar Zoa?¡±

    ¡°No. A man who went by the name of Al.¡± Mordiggian set his cup back on the table and looked at the sun. ¡°Like all of his kind, he perished from radiation poisoning and rose from the dead by the will of the Nuke for the express purpose of spreading the very same poison that killed him; a wish which Al denied.¡±

    That took Yuan aback. ¡°He went against the Nuke?¡±

    ¡°He tried. This Al had no wish to kill his fellow man, but such is a nuclear cultivator¡¯s power that they passively befoul the land around them with radiation. From what he told me, he spent many years wandering the wastes as a hermit until he happened upon an ancient power plant.¡±

    Yuan had heard of those Lost Age installations. They used to produce electricity with fuel of all sorts before men discovered how to use qi.

    ¡°Scrap scavengers lived inside the facility, but they couldn¡¯t get it to work,¡± Mordiggian explained. ¡°Until Al came to them. Realizing that the central reactor could contain his radioactive aura, he offered to fuel it on behalf of these people. When I last visited him, they called him Reactor Al and his plant supplied an entire settlement of a thousand inhabitants with electrical power.¡±

    ¡°Like that?¡± Yuan asked with skepticism. ¡°He didn¡¯t irradiate the area nor blow up?¡±

    ¡°No. Reactor Al turned his Path into a blessing rather than a curse.¡± Mordiggian locked eyes with Yuan. ¡°If a creature like this man, who was created to bring ruin to all, could overcome his nature and become a positive force in this world¡­ then what excuse do have, Gunsoul?¡±

    Yuan never had a way with words, and few could affect him. Yet he always strived to listen to advice and learn from others¡¯ wisdom whenever he could.

    Mordiggian¡¯s tale and question nagged at him. Arc had Yuan swear never to be a friend to a nuclear cultivator because she didn¡¯t believe any of them could become good. If so, then how could they explain the case of Reactor Al, assuming he indeed existed?

    ¡°Is it even possible for us Gunsouls to choose our own way in this world?¡± Yuan wondered. ¡°We arise by the will of the Gun, and he always comes for us in the end. Its power, it¡¯s¡­ . Mindless savagery.¡±

    ¡°The Gun cannot take away your free will, not unless you play by its rules. You can rise above the slaughter and violence to become something else, something ¡± Mordiggian insisted with confidence. ¡°That Hitobashira who travels with you¡­ I sensed great suffering in her when I first saw her. She was a slave, wasn¡¯t she?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Yuan confirmed softly. ¡°I killed her captors.¡±

    ¡°Could you have saved that girl without a gun? Could you have protected her since without the Gun Path?¡±

    Yuan¡¯s jaw clenched. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Then why would you call a gun evil, if it gave you the power to do the right thing?¡± Mordiggian shrugged. ¡°A firearm is no more noble nor vile than a sword, which many heroes carried into battle to defeat great evils. Any tool can be wielded for revenge or justice.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re saying I could become¡­ what, a gun that ?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Mordiggian confirmed. ¡°The Gun is not end of your Path, but end: death for death¡¯s sake. In the same way, a road can lead to multiple destinations, we determine our Path as much as it guides us forward. The Flesh Mansion Sect you encountered in Fleshmarket were ruffians, slavers, and organ thieves, but I have met other offshoots that help farmers plant better crops and help the sick achieve their ideal bodies. The same way a Path can take many forms, it has as many interpretations as there are individual perspectives.¡±

    Yuan could see that. He had witnessed Arc and Revolver both use very different Authorities, although they both followed the Gun Path. They had chosen a specific interpretation of it that suited their skills and personality; a will so strong that it grew to overwrite the Dao itself, and in Revolver¡¯s case, temporarily defeat the Gun.

    If a Path could branch so far to take such radically different expressions, then where would Yuan¡¯s Bullet Hell lead him to?

    Yuan¡¯s gut told him he would find the answer within himself. Mordiggian had given much to think about.

    ¡°Thank you for your tea and wisdom, Honorable Sin-Eater,¡± Yuan said with sincere gratitude. ¡°I may have been wrong about you.¡±

    ¡°Think nothing of it,¡± Mordiggian replied with a bellowing chuckle. ¡°I pray that my words helped you achieve the clarity your mind aspires to.¡±

    ¡°It gave me perspective at least, but¡­¡± Yuan looked at the horizon, imagining the moon about to rise beyond it. ¡°I think I¡¯ll need to consult someone else first before I achieve true clarity.¡±

    ¡°Wisdom comes from many places.¡± Mordiggian set aside his teacup and turned to look at the ceramic pots he kept in his room. ¡°How about I teach you how to harvest and safekeep spirit-herbs?¡±

    ¡°I would love to.¡±

    Yuan would continue his cultivation with diligence, whichever Path he chose to follow.

 Chapter 50: The Chosen Path

    Mordiggian proved to be a very different teacher than Arc.Arc¡¯s training sessions had gotten Yuan used to practical exercises and the occasional attempts to make him figure out technique intricacies on his own; learn how to learn, in her own words. Mordiggian instead preferred detailed and in-depth explanations while happily answering Yuan¡¯s questions in a clear and concise manner. He was, in short, someone more interested in teaching theory first rather than jumping into practice.

    Yuan couldn¡¯t tell whether he was always this way or whether the subject matter demanded that kind of approach. A gardener had to select the right seeds, set up feng shui-powered fields to maximize levels of elemental qi concentration, and then provide proper nourishment.

    The lesson bored Yuan to death.

    Cultivating spirit-fruits and herbs demanded a patience and gentle touch he just didn¡¯t have. When Mordiggian taught him a few Barrier setups that could maximize what the qi plants could absorb, Yuan¡¯s first thought was how he could apply them in battle. He spaced out during half the lesson in spite of his sincere attempts to listen.

    Yuan was starting to believe his intuitive understanding of techniques¡ªwhich Gayak outright called prodigious¡ªwas limited to combat applications.

    Meanwhile, Holster proved extremely adept at the field. Mordiggian invited her to attend his lessons, which she followed with a lot more assiduity than Yuan himself. She not only learned Mordiggian¡¯s Barrier arrays on her first try, but swiftly improved upon their designs to increase qi concentration by five percent; a feat that delighted her teacher.

    Yuan thought with pride after he observed her refresh a spirit-tree¡¯s with the right Barrier.

    Unfortunately, Mordiggian couldn¡¯t do anything on her behalf. ¡°I can offer her the same solutions I gave you, Gunsoul: rebirth as a normal girl or a better reincarnation. I¡¯m afraid only the likes of the Flesh Mansion Sect have the knowledge to repair her core without outright disabling it.¡±

    Holster didn¡¯t seem keen on either, especially since they involved Mordiggian eating her first. Yuan¡¯s charge had hugged him tightly the moment he outlined those solutions. Having nearly been devoured by a rad-hag had soured her on the idea.

    Thankfully, Mordiggian offered them another possibility. ¡°While most of the Flesh Mansion Sect offshoots are allied with the Yinyang Khan, there are some in Battletown who take no side and might agree to operate on the girl for the proper price. Seek the man called Jared LaChaire. He might be able to help you.¡±

    While Yuan wasn¡¯t keen on encountering sect again, he thanked Mordiggian for the lead. It wouldn¡¯t cost anything to interrogate this man once they hit Battletown.

    Others did take up Mordiggian on his offer though. Scraps without a future, traumatized people who had lost their family during the Fleshmarket Sect War, Bullet Church cultists who abandoned the faith, or ruffians eager to escape karmic justice¡­ More people than Yuan expected gave themselves to the Sin-Eater, though Bucket surprisingly wasn¡¯t among them.

    He guessed that when you had lost , it was easy to restart somewhere else from . That must have been what the Sky-Biter hoped for when he consumed the Lost Age.

    In any case, Lady Tama graciously allowed them to spend the night at her station. While Holster enjoyed a good night¡¯s rest inside, Yuan proceeded to cycle on the upper floor of a building, a window open to let the moonlight through.

    He had a much easier time meditating tonight, though he hadn¡¯t reached his peak efficiency yet. He welcomed the moon¡¯s energies into himself until they helped burn away his false flesh to reveal the true steel lurking underneath. These changes frightened him at first, but now they felt¡­ natural. Like a snake shedding its suffocating skin for smoother scales.

    He sensed a familiar presence approaching.

    ¡°Orient?¡± Yuan whispered upon awakening from his cycling, the cold glow of the Blackmoon shining on his skin.

    ¡°I did not wish to interrupt your meditation, Honored Guest Yuan.¡± Orient very carefully stayed in the shadow beyond the moonlight¡¯s grasp and put a platter of spirit-fruits within his reach. ¡°I am surprised you heard me coming. I did my best to stay quiet.¡± S?a??h the N?v?lFir?(.)n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t hear you. I you.¡± Orient had a pleasant aroma around her, a mix of a gentle engine¡¯s smell and perfumed interiors. ¡°My senses are sharpening.¡±

    ¡°They are not the only things about you that sharpen, Honored Guest Yuan,¡± Orient noted, her gaze darting at his arms.

    Razor-sharp, layered metal sheets now replaced his skin from shoulder to elbow; and when he stared at his reflection inside them, he saw his bullet-core buried under a metal plate covering his forehead. That one reminded him of the side of his old handgun.

    Remembering his first weapon filled him with nostalgia.

    ¡°You know, my earliest memory is of being given a gun,¡± Yuan told Orient. ¡°I recall being dragged out of my bed by a marauder band alongside five other children and being told we would fight for some warlord whose name I¡¯ve long forgotten.¡±

    That handgun had been his first weapon, and the one which Slash stole from him. In a way, Yuan guessed his first life began and stopped with it. Its absence bothered him to his very core.

    ¡°I am sorry to hear that,¡± Orient replied with genuine sorrow. ¡°Was this the source of your childhood nightmares?¡±

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    ¡°No. Those came later.¡± Yuan looked up at the moonlight. As much as he used to fear moonburns, the stellar glow helped clear his mind and loosen his tongue. ¡°They started with Chen.¡±

    ¡°Chen?¡±

    ¡°I think that was his name. He cooked our food. A Second Coil cultivator cleaved his face asunder with his bare hands.¡± Now that the floodgate had opened, Yuan found himself unable to stop. ¡°When I killed my first man, I¡­ I didn¡¯t particularly it, but I didn¡¯t dislike it either. It¡¯s just something I did. I can¡¯t recall the faces of the people I killed, but I remember Chen bleeding out on the ground well enough. It¡¯s weird.¡±

    Although Yuan had had many years to process and bury that trauma, it still weighed on his soul. He¡¯d had a hard time connecting with anybody since. Getting close to people meant suffering when the wasteland took them away.

    Orient stared at him for a few seconds, her golden eyes brimming with sorrow and empathy. ¡°I sincerely apologize for my forwardness. I did not wish to cause you pain.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Yuan replied with a shrug. He had many years to bury his pain properly. ¡°I haven¡¯t told many people about it.¡±

    ¡°Not even your former companions?¡±

    ¡°Not even them.¡± He supposed that was a sign he never allowed himself to grow too attached to Mingxia and Jaw-Long; something which he now regretted. ¡°I feel I can trust you with this. That you¡¯d listen.¡±

    Yuan¡¯s own reaction surprised him. The last few weeks since he rose from the grave did more to help him open up to others than all his years of wandering. After spending years on the road keeping others at arms¡¯ length, he finally felt ready to trust again.

    It all started when he encountered Holster. Yuan guessed taking care of her had softened him. That, or becoming a Gunsoul gave him the confidence he needed. Now he had the power to protect those he cared about.

    ¡°I appreciate your trust in me, Honored Guest Yuan,¡± Orient replied with a graceful bow. ¡°Your words haven¡¯t fallen on deaf ears, I assure you. I always seek to better understand humanity. So many of my passengers require my help, but how can I soothe their pain when I do not comprehend it?¡±

    ¡°You look more human to me than most.¡± Orient had shown him more kindness than most people he¡¯d encountered across the wasteland. ¡°Because you .¡±

    ¡°Thank you for your kind words, Honored Guest Yuan.¡± Orient joined her hands and mulled over something for an instant. ¡°Lady Tama agreed to let me borrow enough cars to double my length. With Miss Holster¡¯s assistance and new designs, I should be able to not only optimize space within myself to house all of our new passengers, but also support a greenhouse car for food production. If I cannot ferry these people to a proper destination, then I hope that I can become their home.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s good,¡± Yuan decided. He mostly considered using the spirit-train for courier jobs, but turning it into a moving settlement didn¡¯t bother him at all. This would help sustain their passengers until they decided to settle down in a safer place... if such a thing existed.

    ¡°Do you agree with this plan?¡± Orient asked him.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m fine with it.¡± Yuan squinted at Orient. ¡°Why ask for my permission? It¡¯s body, not mine.¡±

    ¡°I find it difficult to consider you a guest anymore,¡± Orient replied with a warm chuckle. ¡°You and Miss Holster have become akin to conductors to me. I feel greater concern for you than my other passengers and defer to your judgment.¡±

    ¡°Is conductor another word for friend?¡± Yuan asked, his mood improving slightly. ¡°If so, then it¡¯s mutual.¡±

    Orient hadn¡¯t hesitated to ram herself into a demigod of ultraviolence to save his life. As far as Yuan was concerned, he trusted her with his back.

    ¡°I am honored.¡± Orient¡¯s cheeks turned slightly pinker for a moment, until she quickly regained her composure. ¡°I sense another visitor approaching us.¡±

    Yuan nodded calmly and then focused back on the moon. A shadow appeared above him, gently riding the night wind on a dark umbrella.

    Right on time.

    ¡°We meet again, Yuan Guang,¡± Lady Kaguya of the Moonlight Sect greeted him with a smile upon floating at his level, her feet dangling into the void. ¡°I am delighted to make your acquaintance too, Orient Junction TR-61.¡±

    ¡°The pleasure is all mine, Honored Visitor Kaguya,¡± Orient replied with a deep bow. ¡°I hope you had a pleasant journey to this station.¡±

    ¡°Every journey is pleasant under the moon¡¯s guidance.¡± Kaguya smiled at Yuan next. ¡°I take it that you have questions pertaining to our Moonlight Path?¡±

    She could read him like a sutra scroll. ¡°You could say that,¡± Yuan said. ¡°I have two questions for you first.¡±

    Kaguya chuckled to herself, her voice ringing softly into the night. ¡°Ask away.¡±

    ¡°Have you heard of the Perfect Shot?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I have,¡± Kaguya replied calmly. ¡°It is the only way for one to escape the Gun¡¯s curse as far as I know, though I have no idea how to land it.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Yuan muttered to himself. So the Perfect Shot indeed existed. ¡°Then my last question: would your Path let me use it?¡±

    Kaguya shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. All of the demigods of ultraviolence¡¯s Paths bear the seed of their own destruction. Live by the sword, die by the sword.¡±

    Only a gun could defeat the Gun. Yuan had expected as much.

    Scratch that, he had known that deep within himself. He didn¡¯t think the Gun only sought and raised Gunsouls to pass the curse along. Somewhere deep within its cursed core, its victims were looking for the right one. The gunslinger who would finally break the cycle.

    Now that he had confirmed the Perfect Shot¡¯s existence, Yuan no longer hesitated. His heart finally achieved clarity.

    ¡°Then I take it you have reached a decision,¡± Kaguya said.

    ¡°I have.¡± Yuan held his head high. ¡°I¡¯m a Gunsoul through and through.¡±

    His Path was set, and he would see it to the end. He owed it to Revolver and to the people who perished by the Gun¡¯s hands. To Arc too.

    He would free Revolver from his curse or die trying.

    ¡°Disappointing, but not unexpected,¡± Kaguya replied with a small sigh. ¡°The truth became clear to me the more I investigated you. At a hundred thresholds, facing a hundred foes, you always chose to pick a gun and return fire. You were born on the Gun Path twice over.¡±

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Yuan apologized. Though he disliked sects on principle, Kaguya didn¡¯t strike him as a bad person. She was friendly enough and thus deserved basic courtesy. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to waste your time.¡±

    ¡°You have not. You win some, you lose some.¡± She put a finger on her lips. ¡°Though if you want to make up for my disappointment, I would like to offer your little band a job.¡±

    Yuan straightened up, as did Orient. ¡°A job, Lady Kaguya?¡± she asked. ¡°What kind?¡±

    ¡°A dangerous one,¡± Kaguya conceded, as all sect jobs were bound to be. ¡°The Moonlight Sect has kept tabs on current events. Your current decision has all but put you on a collision course with the Yinyang Khan¡¯s army.¡±

    Yuan clenched his jaw. They were disturbingly well-informed. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s true.¡±

    ¡°Each year, the Yinyang Khan organizes a competition in Battletown,¡± Kaguya explained. ¡°The History Road course, where cultivators are free to battle with spirit-cars and vehicles in a bloodsoaked race. This year¡¯s tournament promises to be the biggest of them all, for the Khan promises a special prize to the winner on top of the usual fantastical spoils.¡±

    ¡°A race?¡± Orient tilted her head to the side. ¡°You wish me to serve as your sect¡¯s vehicle?¡±

    ¡°You may participate under your own flag,¡± Kaguya replied. ¡°We do not ask you to seize the prize, as much as you help our agents ensure no one else can.¡±

    Yuan clenched his fists. He had a gut feeling about what victory in this race entailed. ¡°What¡¯s that special prize?¡±

    ¡°.¡± Kaguya¡¯s fair face twisted into a dark scowl in the moon¡¯s shadow. ¡°Whoever wins will pick a target for the Khan to annihilate¡­ with an arrow of light.¡±

 Chapter 51: God of the Railroad

    The group ended up staying one more day at the station, during which the spirit-train changed quite a bit.Orient incorporated ten more wagons into herself, doubling her length and greatly expanding her facilities. Yuan partly contributed to their restoration by practicing Item Materialization. Though his intuitive understanding of firearms was of limited use when repairing wagons, he discovered he had an affinity when it came to creating and replicating metallic objects. Gears, bolts, pipes, pistons¡­ Yuan suspected consuming Gatling Man¡¯s core let him assimilate part of his Metallist training.

    Working on Item Materialization helped him understand a few things about qi-bullets as well. Arc called it an adaptive technique that other cultivators could replicate, although the effects changed for any kind of firearm. Yuan¡¯s Third Coil-enhanced senses finally let him understand what she meant.

    As it turned out, his body automatically charged his projectiles with a different qi frequency depending on the firearm used.

    It was so subtle and intuitive, and the frequency differences so minor, that Yuan had no idea it happened until he paid close attention to the process. He supposed he could compare it to walking. Any man knew how to put one foot ahead of the other, but few understood muscles worked together to achieve that result.

    This discovery opened up new possibilities for Yuan. If he could artificially reproduce a specific qi-frequency, then he could infuse any bullet with any effect of his choice.

    ¡°This is quite the big change,¡± Yuan told Orient as they walked along the train¡¯s length with Holster, taking in every detail.

    ¡°It is no less spectacular than yours, Honored Conductor Yuan,¡± Orient replied, which was true.

    Finding his resolve to pursue the Gun Path removed Yuan¡¯s cycling obstacles too. His productivity increased tenfold, and the changes creeping up on his body no longer felt discomforting.

    He had accepted himself and cleared his mind.

    Yuan hardly recognized himself when he looked in the mirror this morning. His body appeared to be constantly under the effect of a powerful Elemental Infusion. Every patch of his skin had turned into sleek metal, his muscles were closer to servos than flesh, and his nerves had been entirely replaced with circuitry.

    His lead lungs breathed air and exhaled gunsmoke. Holes in his palms and feet formed an interconnected network with the thrusters on his back to evenly distribute the Recoil Fist¡¯s power. His bullet-core had vanished under a protective plate of stainless black carbon. Even his eyes looked more like a pair of glass scope implants than organic eyeballs.

    Bullets bounced off them too. He knew, he had checked.

    Many would have likely mistaken Yuan for a Metallist at first glance if every part of himself didn¡¯t scream to onlookers. The steel sheets covering his limbs made them look closer to rifles than arms and legs. His shoulder resembled safeties. Even his teeth had transformed into bullets. Yet none of it looked artificial. Unlike cybernetic implants, everything about Yuan seemed .

    He had become a weapon.

    Nonetheless, his transformation paled before that of the spirit-train. Orient had not only doubled her number of wagons from ten to twenty, but reshaped them completely. The locomotive had lengthened slightly to accommodate both the engine and private sleeping quarters for Yuan and Holster¡ªsince they had been promoted to the elusive rank of ¡®conductors.¡¯

    Next came five wagons forming a Feng Shui sequence as each of the five elements was individually concentrated inside them. The first, which gathered fire-aligned qi, resembled a mix between individual quarters and a temple, with tall pillars of superheated metal surrounding a private chamber. The heat made Yuan suffocate. Fire was his native metal¡¯s natural enemy, and the sheer concentration of this element in the area weakened his own.

    Which was likely the plan. s?a??h th? N?v?lF?re.?et website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡°This is Arc¡¯s wagon,¡± Yuan guessed. ¡°You¡¯ll use fire qi to weaken her Authority and better contain it.¡±

    ¡°Quite astute, Honored Conductor Yuan,¡± Orient quickly confirmed. ¡°As the car closest to the engine, it will receive the largest share of qi and allow me to increase the output should Lady Arc require assistance.¡±

    Holster grabbed Orient¡¯s and Yuan¡¯s hands, then proudly led them deeper into the train. Outsiders would probably have mistaken them for a young girl visiting a new home with her parents; a thought which pleased Yuan more than he expected it to. His metal skin didn¡¯t bother Holster in the slightest either, which he took as a good sign.

    The next car, fueled by earth-aligned qi, served as an ammo depot. It was one of the three wagons equipped with a cannon on the roof, which Bucket and the others had implemented in record time.

    ¡°The two other artillery pieces are located on the twelfth and final wagons to protect the entire length of my body,¡± Orient explained as she then introduced the metal-aligned car: a simple, bagua-shaped meditation room concentrating its qi in the center. ¡°This is your focus room, Honored Conductor Yuan.¡±

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    ¡°This feels more like home,¡± Yuan said as he basked in the ambient qi. It seeped into his body so easily. His bullet-core hardly needed to process it. ¡°Thank you. I appreciate this gift.¡±

    Holster beamed with pride and gratitude, then happily showed him the rest of her creations. The water-aligned wagon housed a massive clean reservoir that would replenish itself by tapping into the leylines Orient rode along, which then fueled the wood-aligned car: a vast greenhouse of rows after rows of spirit-herbs nourished by automated sprinklers and separated by fruit trees.

    Yuan took a moment to study them. Most of the strains gathered here were offshoots gifted by Lady Tama and Mordiggian. The constant influx of wood qi hastened their growth until they¡¯d already started burgeoning.

    Their fruits wouldn¡¯t match the quality of crops produced by a sect, and most cultivators would laugh rather than consume them. However, they could produce quick harvests and feed the spirit-train¡¯s passengers easily enough. Rations would be steady, if minimal.

    Yuan doubted the passengers would mind. Guaranteed access to food and clean water, private spaces, and protection from wasteland threats was a better deal than what most sects offered to Scraps.

    The train¡¯s structure afterward matched what Yuan expected. The treasure car remained relatively unchanged, besides an added floor to maximize storage space. The next ten wagons were bi-level sleeping cars housing two sets of seven cabins, four of them individual and three double-size ones for families. Everyone would have to share a single washroom and shower, but that was more luxury than most were used to anyway.

    Bucket¡¯s car did give Yuan pause though.

    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Yuan asked when he stepped into the double-sized cabin. Bucket had removed the berths to free space to invite a small group of former Bullet Church cultists inside. The group had set up the strangest of altars to worship at.

    Namely, they prayed to a small metal statue of Lady Tama.

    ¡°Railing, railing, master conductor!¡± Bucket greeted Yuan with the same unshakable enthusiasm he had lost after the Gun¡¯s attack. He then bowed in front of Orient while making a noise that vaguely resembled her train whistle. ¡°Bless thee, Holy Orient, for giving us life and direction today!¡±

    ¡°Bless you, Honored Brakeman Bucket,¡± Orient replied with a mischievous grin which Yuan quickly noticed seemed quite forced; a detail which Bucket completely missed. ¡°Is everyone ready to depart?¡±

    ¡°All tickets have been issued and the luggage stored!¡± Bucket replied with beaming pride. ¡°We await your call to continue our journey towards the Promised Station, as foretold by the Goddess Tama!¡±

    After the Fleshmarket disaster shattered Bucket¡¯s faith, Yuan suggested that he put his faith in a deity that would appreciate his worship. The man had unfortunately taken his advice .

    ¡°Excellent,¡± Orient replied while clapping her hands with some nervousness. ¡°In that case, it is time to say goodbye to Lady Tama! Please ensure everyone waves at her from the window on our way out, she will appreciate it.¡±

    ¡°As you command, Train Mother!¡± Bucket replied with enthusiasm.

    Yuan began to wonder if he didn¡¯t prefer him depressed.

    ¡°You¡¯re okay with this nonsense?¡± Yuan asked Orient after they left Bucket behind to check the rest of the train. Fortunately, his new Train Church madness hadn¡¯t spread too far yet. ¡°You didn¡¯t seem too keen on it.¡±

    ¡°Not entirely,¡± Orient replied, which sounded more like a to Yuan. ¡°But our passengers need to believe in. Besides, I believe Lady Tama appreciates the attention. She agreed to lend us a cat stationmaster to bless our passengers with meows and purrs.¡±

    Yuan grunted and decided to wash his hands off the mess. He guessed it was easier to go along with it than shake the likes of Bucket from their delusions.

    Thankfully, their newfound mania also translated into discipline and organization. The passengers followed Orient¡¯s demands to the letter, cleaning up after themselves and moving their luggage to their proper places. They had also set up sniper nests in various cabins to allow their members to fire at enemies; a task that they would have to fulfill soon enough.

    ¡°I received two reports of those plastic scouts lurking near the station, Honored Conductor Yuan,¡± Orient informed him as they oversaw the kitchen and mess hall wagons. Those had been separated due to the increase in passenger capacity. ¡°Should we expect an attack?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but only on our way to Battletown,¡± Yuan replied. ¡°The plastic men have no reason to think we¡¯ll turn back to pick up Arc, so I doubt they¡¯ll have an ambush set up on our way back to Headshot Forge. We can expect a raid once we move past Lady Tama¡¯s station, however.¡±

    ¡°Have you fought them before?¡± Orient asked, which Yuan confirmed with a sharp nod. ¡°What strategy should we adopt then?¡±

    ¡°The plastic men are Lost Age trash who have gained sentience and arose from a plastic continent to the east,¡± Yuan explained. ¡°They¡¯re not too smart and are very fragile, but some can cultivate and they travel in large groups. They don¡¯t know fear and lack vital organs, so the best way to deal with them is to dismember them. That, or fire.¡±

    ¡°I see. I shall brief our defenders accordingly.¡± Orient led them into the panoramic car, where a small crowd gathered around the spotted cat that Yuan had seen hanging around Holster. The animal too wore a cap and a small collar marked after Orient¡¯s designation. ¡°Let me introduce you to our new traveling stationmaster, Gotama.¡±

    The female cat, recognizing her name, immediately moved to rub herself against Yuan¡¯s feet. Holster quickly and happily took her in her arms, which delighted him. While he wasn¡¯t an animal person, Yuan was glad his charge had found a new friend.

    Yuan wondered as he moved to the end of the train, opening the window to get a better look at the station. His steel heart warmed up in his chest.

    He knew he should keep his guard up though. The date Kaguya gave them for the History Road competition left them just enough time to pick up Arc and then move on to Battletown. The Moonlight cultivator promised that her sect¡¯s allies would secure all the necessary ¡®paperwork¡¯ for their induction. Great danger awaited them ahead of the road.

    Yet somehow, taking revenge on Slash and his kind seemed so minor compared to greater looming threats that Yuan hardly gave it any thought. He still intended to follow through with it, but it was no longer his highest priority.

    When he looked at Orient, Holster, and the strange community onboard this spirit-train, only one thought crossed his mind.

    He didn¡¯t want them to live in a world ruled by the Yinyang Khan or devastated by Manhattan. Nor did he wish for them to suffer from the Gun¡¯s savagery as they had already.

    was a cause he would kill for.

 Chapter 52: Innate Technique

    They left the station by sundown.An army of cats sang a symphony on their way out. Yuan would have expected this to result in a terrible cacophony, but their caretaker spirit had drilled them to musical perfection. They all purred and meowed in unison. As for Mordiggian and the few passengers who elected to become his future meal, they simply waved them off.

    ¡°Goodbye, goodbye!¡± Lady Tama shouted as the spirit-train left the station. ¡°See you at the next station, yes, yes!¡±

    ¡°Goodbye, Lady Tama!¡± Orient waved back from the locomotive window, her words echoed by gunfire. Bucket and the others thought it wise to waste some spare ammo on their departure, which slightly annoyed Yuan. Creating bullets consumed qi, and he was loath to use more than he should.

    Nonetheless, they managed to reach Headshot Forge without encountering the plastic men and picked up Arc easily enough. True to her word, she agreed to set up shop in the Fire Car if it managed to suppress her Authority.

    ¡°Is it working?¡± Yuan asked his mentor once she set foot inside her allocated space. Headshot Forge began to overlay with the temple structure the moment Arc set foot inside, with the air smelling of gunpowder and the pillars supporting the roof taking on the shape of rifle barrels. The changes were noticeable, but nowhere near as spectacular as Yuan would have expected.

    ¡°Sort of,¡± Arc replied with a shrug. ¡°It¡¯s less comfortable for me than when I sit on a leyline directly and I could break out easily if I tried.¡±

    ¡°And if you don¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°Then it¡¯s manageable, though any breach in the design will cause my Authority to go haywire again. Sucks for anyone entering too. I don¡¯t think I can stop myself from attacking Scraps.¡±

    ¡°Orient set up a secondary hallway that goes around the seal,¡± Yuan explained. ¡°We¡¯ll restrict access to this car too.¡±

    ¡°Good. I don¡¯t like company.¡± Arc approached one of the few windows and studied it. ¡°Is this insulated glazing and plexiglas?¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t tell,¡± Yuan replied. ¡°Holster and Orient built this place.¡±

    ¡°A smart design choice. You¡¯ve built quite the moving fortress for yourself.¡± The wasteland beyond the window remained untouched by Arc¡¯s Authority, which seemed to please her. ¡°Why did you come back?¡±

    Yuan shrugged his iron shoulders. ¡°I¡¯ve decided to stick to the Gun Path.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I figured.¡± Arc snickered in disdain. She clearly didn¡¯t support his choice. ¡°What I can¡¯t decide is whether you decided to do that out of stupidity or ambition.¡±

    ¡°Neither. I¡¯m what I am, that¡¯s all.¡± Her skepticism washed over Yuan like water on the eternal shore. ¡°I want to free Revolver from his curse, and sticking to my guns is the only way to do it.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯ve fallen for that Perfect Shot fairytale too?¡± Arc shook her head. ¡°You¡¯re going to waste your half-life the same way I did. Better Gunsouls than us have tried and failed to defeat the Gun.¡±

    ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll succeed where they couldn¡¯t, maybe not. Can¡¯t know until I try, and has to.¡±

    ¡°For what? To help another condemned soul rest in peace by taking on their burden?¡± Although Arc continued to face the window, Yuan sensed her attention focusing on the revolver on his belt. ¡°Did that man mean that much to you?¡±

    ¡°I owe him my life, but I would have stuck to the Gun Path even if I didn¡¯t.¡± Yuan took a deep breath. ¡°I¡¯ve met someone who lived through the Unmaking. He told me the world wasn¡¯t unmade, but .¡±

    Arc snorted. ¡°Yeah, right.¡±

    ¡°I thought the same at first,¡± Yuan replied. ¡°But now I think there¡¯s some truth to it.¡±

    ¡°Look out the window.¡± Arc waved a hand at the endless desert and barren rocks. ¡°What can you build on this grave? You can hardly put up a wall before some sect or demon demigod knocks it down.¡±

    ¡°Not if we stop them.¡± Yuan ignored Arc¡¯s mocking grunt. ¡°Ever heard of Gatesville?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Figured,¡± Yuan replied. ¡°It¡¯s a town within an hour¡¯s ride from the irradiated city where you and Czar Zoa duked it out years ago. A small settlement full of homeless, drunks, and down-their-luck couriers who raised their village over a highway¡¯s ruins. Nothing to write home about.¡±

    Arc bristled. ¡°What¡¯s your point?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a good place, but it still ,¡± Yuan replied. ¡°If you hadn¡¯t stopped Zoa, then Gatesville would be a radioactive crater by now. None of its inhabitants would be alive without you.¡±

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    Arc scoffed. ¡°What good did it do, letting them waste away for a few more years?¡±

    ¡°The same thing that keeps us up each morning, I suppose,¡± Yuan replied. ¡°The hope that tomorrow will be better than today.¡±

    Living one more day was a victory in itself in the Unmade World. Mordiggian¡¯s words about the world being unbuilt also resonated with Yuan. So did Revolver¡¯s desire to take out the trash that infested it, and then Orient¡¯s quest to provide a home to her passengers.

    So why couldn¡¯t Yuan leave the world in a better place than he found it?

    ¡°You made a difference, a good one,¡± Yuan told his mentor. ¡°I want to do the same, and¡­ I think you do too.¡±

    Arc turned her head at her student. She studied him for a moment without a word, until her lips curved a little.

    Yuan had rarely seen Arc smile, and when she did, her lips always carried a mocking edge. Her student¡¯s successes hardly managed to do more than bemuse her. Yet this time, her smile betrayed another emotion; something he would expect from Orient and Holster rather than from his cynical mentor.

    .

    It shook him to his core. ¡°Arc?¡±

    ¡°Something¡¯s changed about you,¡± she said softly. ¡°You know what you want now.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I think I do.¡± A picture of Holster and Orient smiling crossed his mind. ¡°I don¡¯t care about the world, but I like some of the people that live in it. I want to protect them and ensure they¡¯re happy.¡±

    He wasn¡¯t scared of caring anymore.

    ¡°You can¡¯t guarantee that.¡± Arc¡¯s smile faded away. ¡°This world will disappoint you again and again. I hope you understand that.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine with it,¡± Yuan replied. ¡°I¡¯ve chosen to stick to my guns to the bitter end.¡±

    ¡°Bitter it¡¯ll be, yeah, but I respect your resolve.¡± Arc sat in the middle of the room and adopted a meditation pose. ¡°I¡¯ll keep teaching you.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Yuan sat in front of her. ¡°Before we continue our lessons, have you heard of the History Road?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Arc scowled. ¡°I¡¯ve got the feeling I won¡¯t like what I¡¯m about to hear.¡±

    ¡°Probably not.¡±

    Yuan recounted what Mordiggian and Kaguya told him. Mentioning Reactor Al drew a snicker of disbelief from Arc, though she listened to everything else in grim silence. Having nearly died fighting a nuclear cultivator, the thought of their patron demigod escaping its prison didn¡¯t please her in the slightest.

    Once Yuan had finished his explanation, Arc snapped her fingers and materialized a cigarette with Item Materialization. It set itself alight the moment she stuffed it in her mouth.

    ¡°Divide and conquer, eh?¡± Arc muttered to herself. ¡°That¡¯s quite the power move from that tinpot Khan, getting sects to fight each other for his favor.¡±

    ¡°And Manhattan will try to steal the cube at the first opportunity.¡±

    ¡°The Moonlighters too. It¡¯s their ways, pulling strings to keep their dirty hands clean.¡± Arc exhaled a cloud of smoke. For once, she seemed to seriously . ¡°We can¡¯t leave that cube in hands, you understand? That thing is death-in-a-box. We¡¯ve got to bury that thing somewhere no one will ever find it again.¡±

    ¡°Agreed.¡± Yuan had no idea how to truly dispose of the cube, but they would cross that bridge once they reached it. ¡°Winning the competition seems to be our best shot at gaining an audience with the Khan and recovering the cube. Do you think we could take him down together?¡±

    Arc scowled. ¡°Maybe? I would tell you to dig his ditch a few years back, but I¡¯ve heard that the Khan has an Authority and I¡¯m past my prime. Not sure we''ve got this in the bag even if we team up against him.¡± She pressed the cigarette on her lips. ¡°Manhattan is gonna be a pain in the ass too. If you¡¯re serious about getting the cube out of his hands and fulfill your vow, I¡¯ll have to work you to the bone.¡±

    A proposal that Yuan eagerly accepted. ¡°I¡¯ve been cycling relentlessly since our last meeting,¡± he said. ¡°Is my iron flesh ready to use an innate technique?¡±

    ¡°Almost. Your body has become a¡­¡± Arc searched her word for a moment. ¡°I guess you could say a base . Engraving an innate technique and crossing the Fourth Coil means that you must customize it in a way unique to your chosen Path.¡±

    Yuan shivered upon recalling Gayak¡¯s hideous transformation. ¡°Like by growing new organs?¡± S?a?ch* Th? N?v?lFir?(.)n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡°That¡¯s the Flesh Mansion Path,¡± Arc replied. ¡°In our case, we must align our core and body with a specific type of firearm. I vibe with sniper rifles, and your Revolver pal¡­ Well, you can guess his pick from the name.¡±

    A weapon he affectionated the most? Yuan could think of one possibility. ¡°I feel most at home with handguns, but I¡¯m fine using any kind of firearm. I¡¯ll take whatever works.¡±

    ¡°Odd. Remind me how your reflection looked when you braved the moonburns?¡±

    ¡°A demon with a gun barrel for a face,¡± Yuan replied, which sent shivers down his spine. Now that he thought of it, his soul reflected the Gun in many ways. ¡°With skulls on the chest, a minigun for a hand, and a blazing cannon for another.¡±

    Arc thoughtfully pondered his description in silence, inhaling and exhaling smoke. ¡°You¡¯re closer to the Gun than most of us.¡±

    Somehow, she didn¡¯t make it sound like a good thing. ¡°What does mean?¡±

    ¡°That war is hell.¡± Arc scrammed her cigarette against the floor; something that would likely annoy Orient. ¡°From what I hear, I don¡¯t think you have an association with any particular firearm. Your soul aligns with a more abstract concept.¡±

    Yuan already knew what, deep within himself. ¡°Bullet Hell.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Arc replied with a sharp nod. ¡°I think I understand now why you pick up combat techniques so quickly, and why you struggle with spirit botany. Your soul on strife. Deep down, you see yourself as a gun-blazing demon battling its way through a warlike hell. Fighting isn¡¯t a means to an end to you; it¡¯s your .¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t fight for its own sake,¡± Yuan argued. He wasn¡¯t like the Gun. ¡°I¡¯ve only killed to defend myself or others.¡±

    ¡°Mmm, I suppose I misjudged it. Battle without purpose is mindless carnage. Bullet Hell¡­ Bullet Hell¡­¡± Arc¡¯s head perked up in realization. ¡°Ah, I get it.¡±

    ¡°Get what?¡±

    ¡°Real demons don¡¯t foster evil on Earth,¡± Arc explained. ¡°They punish the wicked in Hell. That¡¯s what your soul sees itself as.¡±

    The idea appealed to Yuan. Come to think of it, the first time he took up arms for another was when he slaughtered the slavers holding Holster. ¡°Are there good demons in the world?¡±

    ¡°They serve a purpose, same as caretaker spirits.¡± Arc nodded to herself again, as if reaching a decision. ¡°Okay, I know which Gun Path innate technique we¡¯re going to engrave into your core and flesh.¡±

    Her lips stretched into a sinister smirk.

    ¡°Gun Demon Incarnation.¡±

 Chapter 53: Wrath of the Plastic Men

    Engraving an innate technique turned out to be a very experience.The Third Coil¡¯s changes had been automatic so far, natural. Yuan hardly had to think about them. The mere act of cycling replaced his human flesh with qi-forged steel.

    Learning an innate technique meant directing that transformation. Arc had him write sutras onto his nervous circuits first, an act which required him to cycle in a very precise and deliberate way. It too. Each inscription, each word set his neurons ablaze with pain.

    ¡°Struggling yet?¡± Arc asked. Teacher and student meditated face to face in a lotus position, though she mostly cycled to show him how to engrave sutra scripts on his nerves.

    The actual words came to Yuan in flashes of inspiration.

    ¡°It''s hard,¡± Yuan replied with a grunt as a flash of agony coursed through his spine. ¡°The sutras come on their own, but metal is not paper.¡±

    Yuan couldn''t quite explain it. He had been dubious when Arc insisted the correct scripts would come to him during meditation, but they did. Strings of words written in a language he did not recognize flared in his mind when he cycled.

    Yuan intuitively understood their meaning. All the words that could be used to describe his chosen Bullet Hell subpath and resolve.

    ¡°Surviving the moonburns cleared your qi circuits of emotional sludge and strengthened your spiritual awareness,¡± Arc explained. ¡°You are hearing your soul¡¯s whispers and aligning your body with it.¡±

    ¡°Is that why you had me brave the Blackmoon''s trial?¡± Yuan asked. ¡°To make this step easier?¡±

    ¡° should brave the moonburns.¡± Arc scoffed. ¡°Engraving your soul¡¯s chosen Path sutras is only the first step to crossing the Fourth Coil. Next, you will have to weave the scripts into your very core, and only then will you be able to learn innate techniques.¡±

    Considering how much pain tuning his body to the Gun Path and its branches required, Yuan could guess doing the same with his bullet-core would be immeasurably worse.

    No matter. He would bear any pain for victory¡¯s sake.

    Orient¡¯s train whistle echoed across the wagon, followed by an announcement whose content Yuan could already guess.

    ¡°Honored Conductor Yuan, Lady Arc, I have detected a large dust cloud coming from the south,¡± Orient announced. ¡°I suspect a sizable vehicle fleet is on its way to intercept us.¡±

    ¡°The plastic men,¡± Yuan guessed. He interrupted his cycling and rose to his feet. He could use some action. ¡°Orient, tell everyone to tool up. I¡¯ll be on my way to the roof.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Arc said.

    Yuan scowled at her. ¡°I can''t just stand here and watch.¡±

    ¡°You can go.¡± Arc pointed at the revolver on his belt with her chin. ¡°Just not with that.¡±

    Yuan quickly caught on. ¡°No need for weapons when you are one?¡±

    ¡°If you''re serious about becoming a gun, then you''ll have to act the part,¡± Arc said before returning to her meditation. ¡°I would tell you good luck, but cultivators make their own.¡±

    ¡°I would tell you to watch,¡± Yuan replied as he surrendered his revolver to her. ¡°But I know you''ll do it anyway.¡±

    Yuan could have sworn he had heard Arc chuckling when he exited the wagon. As he¡¯d guessed, she was invested in his progress.

    Yuan walked up a ladder to the fire wagon¡¯s roof under the midday sun. A handful of gunners had taken over the three artillery pieces, with Bucket himself taking over the cannon near the locomotive. Iron barrels peeked out of the spirit-train¡¯s windows along its entire length. A few people on the upper floors also carried Molotov cocktails¨Cnamed after the famous folk Fire Path cultivator¨Cready to ignite once the enemy approached. S?a?ch* Th? N?v?lF?re.?et website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    The passengers had no shortage of weapons and ammo onboard, but whether they had the skills to make good use of them remained to be seen.

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    Yuan only had to take a look to see the dust rising on the horizon. It was huge, blanketing a large part of the desert and quickly gaining ground on the spirit-train due to its slower speed; an unfortunate consequence of Orient redirecting a sizable amount of her qi to keeping Arc¡¯s authority suppressed and doubling her length.

    Yuan focused on the dust with his enhanced senses. He analyzed the faint yet strengthening vibrations spreading through the air to estimate the number of enemies, smelled the streams of burnt fuel in the air to identify what kind of vehicles produced them, and studied the faint hints of yellow smoke mixed with the dirt.

    Yuan ascertained, his jaw clenching as he identified a massive object among their number.

    A party that size was bound to have cultivators with them. Plastic men were usually nothing to write home about in that department, but Yuan knew better than to underestimate anybody. The heavy vehicle traveling with the party bothered him the most. Yuan briefly wondered if the plastic men had found a spirit-train of their own until he sensed the presence of a vile, poisonous qi in the dust cloud. Thick orange smog grew visible among the dust.

    The qi was too wild for a cultivator, and only one kind of spirit-beast shared a kinship with plastic men.

    Trashemoths.

    Yuan thought before shouting a warning. ¡°They have a trashemoth with them!¡±

    A few barrels wavered in unease, at least for those familiar with the term. Bucket¡¯s cannon wasn¡¯t among them. ¡°We¡¯ll blow away that foul creature before it can touch Saint Orient, sir!¡± he boasted. ¡°Just give the command!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t bother!¡± Yuan replied. Even artillery would struggle to punch through a trashemoth¡¯s hide, unlike the plastic men¡¯s vehicles. ¡°Focus on the escort, I¡¯ll fend off the beast!¡±

    How strange. Yuan uttered those words without thinking, when his first instinct a month ago would have been to throw any extra weight off the spirit-train to speed it up rather than face such a dangerous spirit-beast. Every fiber of his being told him he could take on the creature now. His allies¡¯ lack of worry and retort showed that they thought the same.

    No man climbed a mountain by fleeing from the hills.

    The dust cloud grew closer, as did the sputtering roars of old engines and the clinking of metal wheels pounding against the ground. The plastic men raiding party emerged as a chaotic mess of dirty mannequin bikers, trash trucks filled to the brim with humanoids with black bags for faces and tableware for hands, and makeshift cars built from scavenged parts. Yuan recognized the few First Coil cultivators among them by the way their bodies merged with their vehicles, with some being little more than plastic torsos melded to their motorbikes or rubber masses filling out a car¡¯s seats. They advanced in a disorganized formation with no regard for self-preservation.

    They were little more than shepherds herding a giant forward.

    Yuan had only seen a trashemoth once before in his life, and the colossus lumbering after the spirit-train was at least twice its size; enough to match three of Orient¡¯s wagons in length. Decades of accumulated plastic rash, gelatinous gasoline ooze, and orange sinew formed the bulk of the abomination¡¯s sluglike body. Sharp metal talons sprouted at the end of its two forelimbs and boasted claws capable of cutting a house in two.

    The sick yellow smog Yuan had noticed earlier spewed forth from a set of three metal chimneys on its back, while the head reminded him a bit too much of Orient¡¯s locomotive; albeit that one boasted jagged teeth and a pair of vicious golden eyes on each side eying the spirit-train with hunger. Half a dozen smaller mouths of steel and plastic gnashed along the monster¡¯s body.

    Arc had landed a five-hundred kilometers shot and attacked the Gun from a day¡¯s ride away. She had to have known this monster would show up when she asked Yuan to relinquish his revolver.

    A would-be Third Coil cultivator unable to secure a pill usually had to kill a spirit-beast and eat its core as a substitute. This was yet another test. One which Yuan would pass with a hail of gunfire.

    Yuan used Sniper¡¯s Bore to wrap his index finger in a cylindrical Barrier, then slightly rifled his original design to improve precision. He stuffed a bullet crafted with Item Materialization inside the makeshift barrel, then aimed at one of the trashemoth¡¯s eyes. Qi poured into his bullet and vibrated it at a very specific frequency.

    ¡°Ready?!¡± Yuan asked, the noise of dozens of firearm safeties clicking in response. ¡°Fire!¡±

    Yuan unleashed the first shot, and his allies followed through with a hail of bullets.

    His projectile hit one of the trashemoth¡¯s right eyes with the impact of a qi-charged handgun strike. The blast wasn¡¯t as big as Revolver¡¯s own shooting stars, but it blew up its target well enough. The trashemoth¡¯s main maw let out a bellowing, low-pitched roar as yellow pus and poisonous blood leaked down its face.

    Yuan¡¯s allies didn¡¯t match his success. While there were a few good shots among the passengers, most were too untrained and the enemy was too far away for firearm projectiles to connect. Bucket and the other gunners had more luck. One artillery shot blew up a car, another landed close enough to two motorcycles to make them lose control of their trajectory and fall to the ground, while the third hit nothing.

    A few of their foes returned fire with flash-ball weapons and rubber bullets, but most focused on closing the gap. Plastic men usually preferred the intimacy of a close-kill and their warband¡¯s equipment reflected their preferences. Harpoons arose from the back of their trash trucks, their barbed heads pointing at Orient¡¯s windows and ready to fire once in range.

    Not on Yuan¡¯s watch.

    Yuan didn¡¯t need to take a step back. He simply leaped into battle and crossed the distance in a single bound. He landed on the nearest plastic man''s car with such force that he crushed the engine on impact. By the time the car and its drivers flew off its wheels, Yuan had already jumped onto the next one with a Recoil Kick.

    This would be .

 Chapter 54: Trashemoth

    Yuan leapfrogged his way to the trashemoth and left a trainwreck of devastation in his wake.His duel with Gayak had already given him a taste of what his Third Coil-level body could achieve, but the last few days of cycling unlocked its full potential. Where Yuan once needed momentum to fly a few meters ahead, he now had to tone down his strength so as not to fly away. He could have easily leaped over a hill with barely any effort.

    Combining these immense jumps with the Recoil Fist resulted in quite the lethal combination. Yuan simply had to activate the technique upon landing on an enemy car to maximize its impact and then immediately jump away to the next target. The plastic men perished by the dozens, their vehicles shattered to pieces, their projectiles bouncing off his steel skin. They fared no better against Yuan than his old team did against Slash.

    They were Scraps to him.

    Many considered the Third Coil to be the moment when cultivators moved beyond the reach of ordinary men, and living through it confirmed it to Yuan. His reflexes had sharpened so much that he could see rubber bullets fly at him at what seemed like an agonizingly slow pace. Most hit him because he didn¡¯t bother dodging. They did to him. The few First Coil cultivators among their numbers were hardly a blip on his radar either. A Recoil Shockwave crushed them like their kindred, and their attempt to harpoon him simply resulted in their weapons shattering against his chest.

    They simply couldn¡¯t hurt him.

    Slash had himself to be shot. The realization only infuriated Yuan. His killer could have dodged his last bullet without any effort, yet decided to mock his victim by playing along and then crushing his hope.

    Yuan almost sympathized with the plastic men. Though he held no hesitation at tearing through them after they¡¯d launched an unprovoked attack against him and his allies, he had been in their place more often than not. He didn¡¯t make a show of slaughtering his way through their forces. He simply did it.

    A great shadow passed over him, and a giant claw moved down to crush him.

    Yuan used a Recoil Shockwave to quickly move out of the way. The trashemoth¡¯s ¡®hand¡¯ crushed the vehicle wreckage he was previously on under its immense weight, the impact raising a cloud of dust and smoke in its wake.

    The spirit-beast hadn¡¯t even targeted Yuan. It simply trampled anything unlucky enough to find itself between Orient and itself. The trashemoth focused on the spirit-train with the most mundane of emotions: pure, absolute .

    Combining Gayak¡¯s Barrier-based flight technique with the Recoil Fist greatly improved Yuan¡¯s maneuverability in the air. He only had to use feng shui to create temporary anchors in the air that he could then exploit to direct his trajectory. Yuan used it to ascend upward and gain a better view of the battlefield.

    Yuan had single-handedly torn through a third of the enemy force, and his allies further cut down the warband to half its size. Normal marauders would have likely retreated after suffering such heavy losses, but plastic men didn¡¯t feel fear the same way humans did. They rode after the spirit-train in utter silence and attacked without shouts or threats. They knew they could easily pull themselves back due to their lack of vitals or merge with their wounded.

    Yuan recalled that Jaw-Long once tried to communicate with a captive plastic man, only to waste hours on a pointless task. Their kind didn¡¯t speak nor seemed to understand vocal language. Yuan wasn¡¯t sure they even the same way a human would, making conversation all but impossible. It made them quite unnerving to fight.

    A few trash trucks got close enough to the spirit-train to harpoon it. Barbed chains struck the windows and metal wheels. Their vehicles weren¡¯t heavy enough to derail Orient¡¯s wagons, but it gave them a foothold onto the spirit-train. A plastic man with blades for fingers attempted to climb into the treasure car, only to take a Molotov cocktail to the face and burn away while Bucket bombarded its vehicle.

    Yuan trusted his allies to manage on their own and focused on the true threat. The trashemoth gained ground on Orient and would catch up to her in a minute.

    So Yuan punched it.

    He threw himself at one of the creature¡¯s eyes and then activated the Recoil Fist. The resulting shockwave threw noxious yellow sludge-blood over Yuan¡¯s arm and hardly caused the monster harm. The trashemoth¡¯s thick outer layers of trash absorbed most of the impact and its noxious blood burned his steel skin like acid. The wound would have liquefied Yuan¡¯s flesh and bones back when he hadn¡¯t crossed the Third Coil, but his qi-reinforced body reduced the potency to superficial burns. The pain was hardly noticeable compared to the strength of the late Gayak¡¯s blows.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    Yuan thought while coating his arm with Elemental Infusion to repair the damage.

    Yuan quickly considered his options and recalled his fight with Gayak. The Flesh Mansion Sect cultivator took him by surprise by breathing flames from his mouth. This didn¡¯t seem like an innate technique to Yuan, so he wondered if he could mimic and adapt it to his Path.

    His affinity lay with metal, which bent to fire. Creating flames directly would likely be beyond Yuan¡¯s power. However, he recalled using shotgun pellets charged with magnesium to produce incendiary projectiles. Since his body had become a living weapon, it should naturally be able to reproduce this phenomenon naturally.

    Deciding to test out his theory, Yuan inhaled deeply and cycled through his lungs. Engraving sutras into his metal flesh gave him greater awareness of his bodily processes and how to exploit them. He charged the gunsmoke inside his chest with qi, saturated it with magnesium extracted from his very bones, slowly heated it up until it started to itch, then .

    Yuan spat out blinding flames onto the trashemoth¡¯s wounds.

    His breath was nowhere near as refined nor did it sustain the same rate of fire as Gayak¡¯s own technique, but it was quite the lightshow nonetheless. Sparks spewed out of his mouth in straight lines and set the trashemoth¡¯s sludge blood ablaze.

    Yuan decided to call the technique .

    The monster roared in pain and anger as it finally turned its head at Yuan before attempting to catch him in its immense jaws. Yuan flew along its body¡¯s length while sustaining his Dragon¡¯s Breath. The trashemoth¡¯s plastic hide caught fire and melted from the searing heat. Flames slowly spread over its body and raised black smoke into the sky. S~?a??h the ??v?lF?re.?et website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    The monster¡¯s smaller mouths retaliated by spewing noxious smog at Yuan in an attempt to counterattack. This, however, proved a fatal mistake on the monster¡¯s part. So great was the heat of Dragon¡¯s Breath that it ignited the trashemoth¡¯s fumes long before they could reach their target. The monster¡¯s chimneys soon began to spew out fire rather than smoke, its hands tearing at its own hide to rip away the burning parts before the flames could spread any further. Tons of melted plastic soon fell off the monster¡¯s body.

    The trashemoth attempted to catch Yuan within its immense talons, but the cultivator quickly wrapped himself in a cloud of Black Haze and slipped through its claws. Yuan analyzed his enemy¡¯s qi all the while, searching for a weakness. He eventually detected the trashemoth¡¯s core buried deep within its immense skull. Now that his flames had softened the creature¡¯s hide, a powerful enough blow should reach its weak point.

    Yuan propelled himself above the trashemoth with repeated Recoil Kicks, then wove a Barrier around his right arm and used the left to wave another behind him. His aim was steady, natural, untouched by the smoke and chaos.

    ¡°Recoil Blast.¡±

    The technique that slew Gayak sputtered forth from Yuan in a mighty shockwave. His improved Barrier design let him direct and disperse the blowback in a way that wouldn¡¯t harm him while focusing the power on one point to maximize damage.

    The blast hit the trashemoth in a devastating collision, the impact blowing up half its skull. Tons of burnt plastic and metal fell off onto the surrounding desert, unveiling a black core of coalesced sludge pulsating into a festering mass of orange sinews melded with fossilized plastic. Its qi was so foul it made Yuan nauseous just to look at it.

    He didn¡¯t hesitate.

    His second Recoil Blast utterly shattered the core and erupted out the other side of the trashemoth¡¯s skull, leaving a gaping hole in its head. The spirit-beast¡¯s qi erupted from its fatal wound in a tide of poison while its many heads breathed their last. It collapsed onto the desert, crushing its plastic men herders under its weight and missing the spirit-train by a few meters.

    It was¡­ easier than expected. Yuan knew size didn¡¯t matter much when evaluating a spirit-beast¡¯s power, but that trashemoth would have likely required the likes of Gayak to take down.

    Any of these would have sounded unbelievable to Yuan not too long ago. All three of them underlined his meteoritic progress in the past month.

    And it was nowhere near enough.

    Yuan already stood head and shoulders above Scraps in terms of power, but he had barely taken his first steps on the road of cultivation. The likes of Manhattan and the Yinyang Khan had been there, done that, and progressed farther ahead still. He couldn¡¯t allow himself to feel satisfied with his current progress.

    He needed to keep that hunger burning inside him. Keep pushing forward.

    As Yuan chased after the spirit-train to help its passengers mop up the remaining plastic men, he began to consider what other techniques he could adapt to the Gun Path. His thoughts wandered to the first cultivator he ever defeated; an oni who could transform his body into mist at will. While Yuan¡¯s Black Haze mimicked his fog-shrouding fist technique, he had yet to find a way to fully turn his body intangible.

    Toshiro achieved that feat while in the Second Coil; Yuan had no excuse for not doing the same one step ahead on the road to the Dao. Now that he had gained a better mastery of his unique physiology, he would try it out.

    From metal to gunsmoke.

 Chapter 55: Bloodsoaked Road

    Mopping up the remaining plastic men hardly warranted any effort on Yuan¡¯s part. By the time he returned to the spirit-train, Bucket and the others had destroyed most of the vehicles and melted down the few enemies that managed to board. They only suffered two dead passengers and three wounded; a vanishingly small number of casualties considering the scale of the raid they¡¯d just faced.. Such was the strength of a large, well-armed group in the Wasteland. A lethal encounter for a small team turned into a road bump for them.

    Yuan received a hero¡¯s welcome on his return too, with passengers firing their guns into the air and wasting their bullets on a welcoming committee. Yuan was about as incensed by their lack of respect for good ammo as he was pleased by their appreciation.

    Returning to Arc¡¯s side was almost a relief. His mentor hadn¡¯t moved an inch from her meditation spot, though Yuan could tell she had observed the battle closely. He guessed he had passed her test with flying colors.

    ¡°It went well,¡± Yuan said.

    Arc shrugged. ¡°You did well, yes, but not perfectly.¡±

    This took Yuan aback. He thought he had done an excellent job taking down a spirit-beast without any issue. ¡°What did I do wrong?¡±

    ¡°There was an easy way for you to destroy the trashemoth¡¯s core which you missed out on,¡± Arc replied. ¡°Not saying your method wasn¡¯t effective. You just missed a quicker alternative.¡±

    Yuan pondered her words. Arc insisted on taking his revolver away before he confronted the creature, which led him to rely on his unarmed techniques, Sniper¡¯s Bore, and homemade bullets.

    ¡°An armor-ignoring bullet,¡± he guessed almost immediately. ¡°You think I could have hit the core with an armor-ignoring bullet.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t , I .¡±

    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t have worked,¡± Yuan argued. ¡°Armor-ignoring bullets pack the same punch as normal ones. I would need to charge them with qi to destroy the core.¡±

    Arc scoffed. ¡°Who said you can imbue a bullet with only one kind of effect at once?¡±

    Yuan remained silent for a few seconds as he digested her question, during which he felt like a colossal idiot. ¡°Can we them?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, we can. The number is only limited by your skill. You could have created a qi-powered, armor-ignoring bullet and shot that monster dead in a single strike instead of starting firework display.¡± Arc shrugged. ¡°I guess I shouldn¡¯t fault you for it though. You¡¯re not Sniper Path material.¡±

    Now that she put it that way, thinking things through and using her tactic would have let Yuan slay the trashemoth with minimal qi expenditure long before it reached the spirit-train. Rampaging through the plastic men and unleashing Dragon¡¯s Breath felt good, but cost him much more energy than he truly required to get the job done.

    Yuan didn¡¯t entirely regret his choices, since they had led him to develop a new technique. Nonetheless, Arc¡¯s method would have likely spared two lives today. Yuan could have assisted the defenders after taking out the trashemoth early and thus limited casualties.

    Yuan and his mentor approached combat in very different ways. Arc was cold, precise, and focused on winning the battle with a single devastating strike. Yuan preferred to adjust to the flow of battle, innovate, and learn through experience. He supposed which tactic worked better depended on the circumstances.

    ¡°You said you would teach me how to learn,¡± Yuan said upon sitting in front of her. ¡°But I guess we learn in very different ways.¡±

    ¡°We do, and that is good,¡± Arc replied. ¡°All Paths can teach you something worthwhile. I assume you picked up that fire-breath technique from somewhere else.¡±

    ¡°I call it Dragon¡¯s Breath.¡± Yuan ignored Arc¡¯s snickering. ¡°Been thinking about adapting another technique.¡±

    ¡°That mist-transformation you told me about when we first met?¡± Arc didn¡¯t wait for him to confirm it. She could read his mind like an open scroll. ¡°You¡¯ve already partially adapted it with that Black Haze of yours.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Yuan examined his left palm and cycled qi through his fingers. Black Haze exhaled dark fumes from his skin. ¡°I¡¯ve been able to alter the chemical elements in my lungs to recreate gun-like effects, so I¡¯m wondering if I can do the same with my bones and flesh. Transform the metal into gunsmoke for a second.¡±

    Arc nodded sharply. ¡°You¡¯ll have an easier time doing that once you finish engraving your soul¡¯s sutras into your body. It being aligned closer to the concept of gunsmoke would make the shift more natural.¡±

    ¡°So you think it¡¯s possible?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ve encountered that kind of ability in the past though, so I¡¯ll issue a few warnings.¡± Arc raised two fingers. ¡°First, an intangible body makes your core extremely vulnerable to qi-based attacks, ¡®cause there¡¯s no physical shell to protect it anymore. Second, long-term intangibility is also unsustainable. You¡¯ll spend a lot of focus and resources just keeping your body in one piece for more than a few seconds.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Which was probably why Toshiro only used it for split seconds at a time, besides the inability to counterattack.

    Yuan would have preferred to focus on mastering an innate technique first and foremost anyway, but gunsmoke intangibility would definitively offer him an edge against Slash. The man¡¯s name and choice of weapon¡ªa katana¡ªimplied he preferred melee over ranged combat, where Yuan usually had the edge. Improving his defenses might mean the difference between life and death once Yuan finally crosses paths with his murderer.

    Yuan thought as he continued his engraving.

    Come to think of it, the Yinyang Khan had to hold Slash in high esteem to trust him with the Cube of NATO¡¯s recovery. Yuan had originally thought Slash would have been a mere henchman, but a warlord wouldn¡¯t send a low-ranked minion to fetch a potentially world-ending artifact. Slash had to be part of his master¡¯s inner circle, maybe even his direct apprentice.

    A fatal confrontation approached, and Yuan still knew too little about his sworn foe. He would correct that as soon as possible.

    Arc and Yuan cycled for most of the afternoon, during which the latter mostly grunted and sweat oil. His qi circuits began to form a single, unified sutra script of nightmarish complexity glorifying the Bullet Hell, where firearms never jammed and the screams of the damned were drowned in eternal gunfire. Yuan nearly collapsed in exhaustion once he completed the process. All of his nerves burned beneath his skin.

    ¡°Good,¡± Arc congratulated him on his success. ¡°Now we¡¯ll do the hard part.¡±

    Yuan grit his ammo teeth. His mentor had a very strange way of reassuring him.

    Thankfully, the sight of Orient walking into the fire wagon eased Yuan¡¯s pain.

    ¡°Honored Conductor Yuan, Lady Arc, if I may interrupt your meditation?¡± Orient asked kindly. ¡°I hope it has been fruitful for you both.¡±

    ¡°It has,¡± Yuan confirmed. ¡°What¡¯s the issue?¡±

    ¡°Although we are still a day and a half away from Battletown, we will soon reach an elevated point giving us a good view of the region,¡± Orient said. ¡°Might I propose that we stop there for the night for the purpose of reconnaissance?¡±

    ¡°Sounds reasonable,¡± Yuan replied. ¡°How are the others holding up?¡±

    ¡°Miss Holster has given the Last Rites sutras to our deceased passengers,¡± Orient explained. ¡°I have repurposed a spot in the greenhouse to serve as a burial site. Their families kindly agreed that we can use their remains as fertilizer to aid in growing produce.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Yuan replied. Planting seeds into corpses was standard practice in the Unmade World, with burials being usually the hasty result of an attempt to quickly move on without rousing a hungry ghost¡¯s wrath. ¡°Maybe they¡¯ll reincarnate into spirit-trees.¡±

    ¡°One of them did,¡± Orient replied with a chuckle. ¡°I sensed a soul passing into the seed I planted in his heart.¡±

    Yuan wasn¡¯t certain if reincarnating as a tree was truly a ¡®good¡¯ second life, but who knew? Maybe that poor sap would learn how to walk with his newfound roots a few years down the line.

    ¡°We¡¯ll need to decide on how to approach Battletown,¡± Arc said after whipping up a cloud of smoke from nothing. ¡°A spirit-train entering through the front door is bound to attract attention.¡± S?a??h the N?v?lFir?(.)n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡°The Moonlight Sect said they would arrange our entry into the History Road competition,¡± Yuan replied with a shrug. ¡°I say we should pretend to be another racing crew. I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll stand out too much from other competitors.¡±

    ¡°True,¡± Arc conceded. ¡°The sects will send a whole freakshow in case the Khan can back up his threat.¡±

    Taking a glimpse of the region only strengthened Yuan¡¯s opinion. They definitely wouldn¡¯t stand out among the Khan¡¯s grandiose madness.

    True to her word, Orient soon stopped the spirit-train atop a rocky hill offering a wide view of the region, where she, Yuan, Holster, and Arc could observe the landscape. The desert stopped a few kilometers ahead, its sands drowned in the gasoline waters of the Oil Sea. Refinery outposts pumped the sweet fuel along the shore, all under the dominion of a colossal settlement of glitzy neon lights and machine towers.

    Although many leagues separated the sprawling cityscape from the spirit-train, the city put Fleshmarket to shame in every way. Yuan saw the edges of cranes and steel structures prospering in the shadow of a massive metal pagoda the size of a small mountain.

    Battletown left Yuan without breath. He had never seen such a large settlement short of a Screen City. No wonder most of the region paid the Yinyang Khan tribute.

    However, his allies paid more attention to a set of six strange landmarks spread across the region. Each of them stood in isolation along the length of an immense highway starting and ending at Battletown, like points of interest. None of them even vaguely resembled the other: one was a large spire of rusted metal on four legs, another a pyramid of stone, and the third a palace with a bulbous roof¡­ the rest were too far away for Yuan to distinguish them.

    There was something wrong with the highway too. Yuan detected a large amount of qi radiating from it, like a leyline, but it felt¡­ , for lack of a better term. Like the circuit was forced on the land in a way that inherently damaged it.

    Arc snickered. ¡°Is that the Taj Mahal?¡±

    ¡°The Tajwhat?¡± Yuan asked.

    ¡°Taj Mahal,¡± his mentor replied while pointing at the third structure. ¡°It¡¯s a Lost Age palace. The Spiral Dancer practiced her Thunderdance in front of it.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Yuan frowned in confusion. ¡°That place feels weak for such an important landmark.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid. The real one is at the center of the world¡¯s biggest patch of Thunderlands.¡± She waved a hand at the palace with disdain. ¡°That one¡¯s just a cheap replica.¡±

    ¡°I believe I recognize the spire structure,¡± Orient said. ¡°I think its name is the Eiffel Tower? It used to be the landmark of a city long destroyed that I used to visit on my itineraries.¡±

    ¡°All these landmarks are copies of Lost Age monuments,¡± Arc replied with a deep scowl of absolute disgust. ¡°That¡¯s the Khan¡¯s History Road. A murderous mockery of the past.¡±

    Yuan¡¯s unease grew stronger the longer he observed the qi circuit, while Holster paled and fearfully grabbed his sleeve. She shook like a spirit-leaf, her heart overtaken with the same abject dread she used to live in the days she was a slave.

    Yuan¡¯s fists clenched on their own. He had quickly figured out how the Yinyang Yang managed to redirect enough qi to produce an artificial leyline around his city.

    ¡°How many?¡± Yuan asked Orient, his hands protectively resting on Holster¡¯s shoulders, his voice laced with cold anger. ¡°How ?¡±

    Orient looked away, her face twisted in deep sorrow. ¡°At least¡­ at least thirteen Pillars per landmark, with a seventh set for the city.¡±

    While Yuan heard a lot about the Yinyang Khan, he had wondered if the man himself differed from the gruesome rumors spread about him. The horrific nature of the History Road taught him better.

    The Yinyang Khan had sacrificed hundreds of children just to .

 Chapter 56: Battletown

    A patrol intercepted them halfway on their way to Battletown.The sight of three SUVs with twice as many power cruisers driving after them to intercept the spirit-train brought back a few terrible memories of Slash¡¯s band slaughtering his own, even though he knew he had grown strong enough to defend himself. He watched them approaching from the locomotive¡¯s window, with Orient at his side and Holster hiding in another compartment.

    Yuan guessed upon seeing the patrol approach. They were a motley crew of men with skull masks, hoods, and firearms. The fact they carried weapons like those at all marked them as First or Second Coil at best.

    Still, the Khan being able to send large contingents to intercept newcomers already spoke volumes about his manpower reserves. The man was no two-bit sect elder vying for leadership.

    Orient stopped the spirit-train without a fuss, allowing the patrol to peacefully approach the locomotive. A muscled man with a bag with holes over his face and a pack of scrolls on his back climbed down from his cruiser and walked up to the window. A skull motif with a yin-yang color scheme was painted on his chest.

    ¡°Tourist or competitor?¡± the man asked gruffly. Neither he nor his men appeared bothered by the spirit-train, which told Yuan everything he needed to know about his future competitors. ¡°If the latter, what¡¯s your identification?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re the crew of Orient Junction TR-61,¡± Yuan replied. ¡°We¡¯re here to take part in the race.¡±

    ¡°Orient Junction TR-61?¡± The man scoffed after checking one of his scrolls for the name. ¡°You¡¯re the Moonlight Sect¡¯s team? First year they sponsored a participant, you know that? And of course, they¡¯d hire an out-of-town mercenary band.¡±

    ¡°We are ,¡± Orient said with a charming smile. As always, she had a better way with words than Yuan himself. ¡°We will receive a generous payment whether we win or lose, but we will be happy to do our best.¡±

    The marauder chuckled. ¡°Not sure you¡¯ll be able to collect your payday if you lose, lady. Race is hella lethal, and this year there will be a lot more bloodsport than usual.¡± He folded the scroll back into his bag. ¡°Follow us to the gates.¡±

    ¡°If I may,¡± Orient insisted, mostly out of concern for their passengers. ¡°We were told that our team would receive a promise of safe conduct during our stay in Battletown.¡±

    ¡°Violence is forbidden outside the race itself within Battletown¡¯s walls,¡± the man replied with a shrug. ¡°Anybody stupid enough to break that rule gets a slave tattoo or a bullet to the skull.¡±

    While Orient managed to hide her disdain behind a pleasant smile, Yuan clenched his jaw in quiet anger.

    ¡°Your Khan sounds like a hardass,¡± he said.

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s he¡¯s the Khan,¡± the messenger replied before returning to his cruiser. ¡°You¡¯re the last of the registered racers to arrive, so the Khan¡¯s mouth will make an announcement and distribute qi bracers identifying you as sect-sponsored competitors soon. They¡¯ll make you VIPs. Just go along for now.¡±

    Yuan exchanged a glance with Orient, then traveled down to the fire car while the spirit-train followed the patrol.

    He found his mentor meditating behind shut windows. ¡°They didn¡¯t notice me.¡±

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think they did,¡± Yuan replied. The fire wagon successfully contained all of Arc¡¯s qi inside itself, and another similar compartment did the same for Holster. ¡°Don¡¯t think we should tell them about you either.¡±

    ¡°Best that I stay hidden for now, yes,¡± Arc confirmed. ¡°The likes of the Khan won¡¯t tolerate a cultivator of their level inside their stronghold, even during a competition.¡±

    ¡°So far so good.¡± Yuan crossed his arms. ¡°I¡¯m concerned about that History Road. Can¡¯t help but think the landmarks serve a bigger purpose than just redirecting the local leylines. Lots of effort for a mere race.¡±

    ¡°The Dyad Path feeds on either partnerships or opposition,¡± Arc replied. ¡°Their cultivators work in a similar way to the demigods of ultraviolence, albeit to a lesser degree.¡±

    Yuan¡¯s hands clenched into fists. ¡°So all the deaths on the circuit¨C¡±

    ¡°Empower the Khan.¡± A fact which Arc clearly resented. ¡°No wonder he can pull off an Authority after overseeing these races for years. He¡¯s a lot more clever than I thought.¡±

    ¡°Think we can sabotage the History Road?¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Arc replied with a shrug. ¡°Don¡¯t think we¡¯ll be the first to try though. Let¡¯s lay low and gather information for now, and don¡¯t rock the boat.¡±

    ¡°The boat?¡± It took Yuan a while to recall that she meant the strange vehicles used to cross the Oil Sea. ¡°Why would you put rocks inside them? Wouldn''t they sink?¡±

    Arc chuckled. ¡°Yes, they would.¡±

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    Yuan had the impression he had missed out on an important detail, but didn¡¯t push the subject further. He didn¡¯t trust the Khan¡¯s men in the slightest, so Orient had asked the passengers to remain quiet until they secured both passage and protection. Yuan himself returned to the locomotive in order to defend the engine should the worst come to pass. S?a?ch* Th? ??v?l_Fir?.?et website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    The journey to Battletown itself went smoothly, with the city growing more and more intimidating the closer the spirit-train approached it. Fleshmarket looked like a mere village when compared to it. Its steel walls were higher and the iron towers behind it far taller, to say nothing of the massive pagoda palace overseeing it all. The very air vibrated with the hum of machinery, and the ground trembled as lanky cranes continued to add floors atop its spires.

    Battletown stood along the Oil Sea¡¯s shores, with a moat surrounding it as an additional defense. Two enormous metal bridges connected the city to the rest of the wasteland, with the second connecting directly to the History Road highway. Artillery-backed checkpoints protected both of them. The wreckage of vehicles¡ªlikely the remains of past failed assaults¡ªfloated in the oil quagmire below.

    Thankfully, the guards escorted them through the highway entrance; the one connected to the leylines and thus allowing Orient to manifest her tracks. They passed through the defenses and then through a massive set of gates into the city proper.

    Then there was .

    Yuan had never dared to approach a Screen City too closely for fear of being drawn into the Broadcast, but he had seen them from afar. Battletown more than matched them in light shows, bright screens, and shiny neons. Forests of smokestacks joined with pipes and cluttered concrete blocks housing hundreds of apartments. This place was a hive of people and noise, the sheer cacophony nearly deafening Yuan¡¯s enhanced senses.

    Their escort guided them into a massive parking space separated from the housing areas. There a horde of soldiers kept watch over an entire fleet of mismatched and bizarre vehicles. While many were cars, cruisers, and the usual rides, quite a few put the spirit-train to shame in size and strangeness. Yuan caught sight of a colossal boat made entirely of bones floating a few feet above the earth with tattered, rotting sails hanging from its spine-masts; he saw a gigantic and strangely placid centidead even longer than the spirit-train, its back strapped with sniper nests built into his very carapace; he even noticed some kind of gigantic mechanical bird with metal wings and missiles strapped to its belly.

    The patrol had Orient park herself between a set of two racing cars, one red and the other green, and the strangest all-wheel drive tractor Yuan had ever seen. It was a bright shade of yellow, with buoys for wheels and an oversized, bizarre birdlike mascot on its back. The driver himself hardly looked human. He had white feathers all over his muscular body, a flat beak for a mouth, and palmed hands. Two bandoliers were strapped to his chest, while a green beret sat atop his head. His black eyes glared at Yuan from over his half-closed windows.

    ¡°Duckman will shit on your grave!¡± he threatened in the highest-pitched voice Yuan had ever heard.

    While Orient reddened at the blatant insult, Yuan remained unimpressed. ¡°I¡¯ve shot many birds dead before,¡± he replied. ¡°Usually in the .¡±

    ¡°You have made a powerful enemy today, gunman!¡± the strange cultivator replied, his fingers moving from his eyes to Yuan¡¯s. ¡°Duckman is the quack that haunts your nightmares!¡±

    ¡°Honored Conductor Yuan will destroy you,¡± Orient said coldly. She hadn¡¯t appreciated the trash talk in the slightest. ¡°We shall roast you for dinner.¡±

    ¡°Duckman will piss a pond and drown your boyfriend in it!¡±

    The two racing car drivers on the other side of the locomotive both laughed at the same time behind their helmets. ¡°Do you think they¡¯ll make out soon, brother?¡± one asked the other.

    ¡°Would it count as bestiality?¡± his sibling replied, the two of them erupting into laughter.

    Clearly, such banter was in the spirit of the race. Yuan already hated this competition.

    The sound of a warhorn thankfully interrupted the meaningless exchange. All heads turned to the northwest, Yuan¡¯s included. A tall, central watchtower of piled-up loudspeakers and giant screens oversaw the parking lot from there.

    Slash stood atop it.

    Yuan¡¯s bullet-core almost exploded in his skull when he recognized his murderer. It was , the same shirtless, mask-wearing bastard who had killed his friends and put him in the ground, grinning and strutting near the tower¡¯s edge like he owned the place. Two borgs backed him up, with one handing him a mike.

    ¡°Honored Conductor Yuan?¡± Orient asked him, her fair face twisted with a dash of fear. Whatever face Yuan had made, it frightened her to her core. ¡°Yuan? Are you well?¡±

    Yuan¡¯s core pounded too hard for him to hear her clearly. His body brimmed with rage when his eyes lingered on Slash¡¯s belt.

    Attached to it were the man¡¯s katana and Yuan¡¯s stolen handgun, much to his fury. Either that asshole paraded it around like a mocking trophy, or he simply forgot to take it off after murdering its previous owner.

    ¡°Drivers!¡± Slash shouted through the mike, the loudspeakers carrying his voice through the parking space. ¡°Stand atop your vehicles!¡±

    Yuan immediately opened the locomotive door, ignoring Orient¡¯s words of concern. His hands trembled with such anger that he broke the knob on his way out. He jumped atop the spirit-train, mostly to get a better angle to shoot at Slash. The other racers stood on their vehicles, men, women, and monsters alike.

    ¡°I hope you¡¯re !¡± Slash shouted at them, his fist pumped up to the sun. ¡°For once again, you¡¯ve chosen to bleed red and lead on the History Road for the clamor of the Battletown crowds!¡±

    Many among the racers shouted and roared, but Yuan wasn¡¯t among them. He instead glared at Slash, weighing his odds of shooting his head off his shoulders before anybody else could react, consequences be damned. A searing desire dwelling deep within his bullet-core urged him to kill him, kill him , kill him dead with lead!

    Yuan struggled to focus through the veil of vengeful anger which had taken over his mind. He had planned to lay low, gather information, play it smart, but a murderous urge egged him to pump Slash dead with lead right where he stood. A bloodlust matching that of the Gun itself threatened to overtake him from within.

    ¡°Once again, you have gathered under the auspices of our master to participate in this historic competition!¡± Slash shouted with boastful enthusiasm as he looked over the racers and their vehicles. ¡°A meager three days now stand between you and the final race to end all races! You, who have come from all corners of the Unmade World to unmake it a little bit mor¨C¡±

    Then his gaze met Yuan¡¯s.

    Yuan couldn¡¯t tell whether he had sensed his overwhelming hatred or simply happened upon him by accident, but his murderer froze upon noticing him. Slash interrupted his speech to return the glare, his yellow eyes squinting with confusion behind his mask.

    Then he asked, ¡°?¡±

 Chapter 57: Slash

    ¡°Who the fuck are ?¡± Slash asked.Yuan¡¯s bullet-core burned in his skull. The power of the Gun which sustained his life magnified his righteous fury, fanning the flames of his anger until they transformed into a blaze of rage. It took Yuan all of his willpower to not wave a Recoil Blast Barrier around his hand and shoot Slash down in front of the entire racer assembly.

    Weeks after weeks of meditation gave him enough self-control to resist that overwhelming temptation. Yuan knew that even if he managed to slay Slash in one blow, doing so inside the Khan¡¯s stronghold would result in his and his team¡¯s own destruction. Yuan cared little for his own personal safety, but the thought of Holster being sent back into slavery and Orient being destroyed by an artillery bombardment stayed his hand.

    ¡°Of course you wouldn¡¯t remember,¡± Yuan said, his voice little more than a low, threatening growl. ¡°The likes of you, they remember the lives they take.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s the thing. I can your hatred towards me from here, but I would remember a borg as ugly as you are.¡± Slash chuckled disdainfully. ¡°Unless you went to the Metallists for power? What, couldn¡¯t take me on your own?¡±

    Yuan¡¯s jaw clenched. How dare that soulless bastard mock all the struggles he had to overcome to refine his body into this? So many eyes had turned to stare at him, but he ignored them all. He pointed a finger at Slash¡¯s handgun.

    ¡°That gun is ,¡± Yuan threatened. Alongside three lives, Yuan¡¯s own included. ¡°I¡¯m going to take it back!¡±

    ¡°This piece of junk?¡± Slash lazily grabbed the handgun and pretended to study it. ¡°Oooh, right¡­ I remember.¡±

    He pointed the gun at Yuan¡¯s forehead, at the exact spot where he once shot him dead.

    ¡°I took it from a Scrap who died like his teammates,¡± Slash said, his voice oozing malevolence. ¡°Like a whining .¡±

    Memories of that ¡®duel¡¯ surged back to the forefront of Yuan¡¯s mind, blinding him with that dreadful memory of being humiliated and then murdered in the desert. The sensation of that fatal shot worming its way into his skull scorched his iron brain, forcing him to recall the , the .

    Yuan tried to take a step forward, only for iron bindings to subtly rise from the spirit-train¡¯s roof and restrain his feet. Orient¡¯s influence. Yuan also sensed a presence below him touching his qi with feng shui, calming his wounded soul and helping clear his mind of the Gun¡¯s vengeful madness.

    Holster.

    His closest allies had wisely stopped him from making a big mistake.

    Realizing Yuan wouldn¡¯t take the bait, Slash decided to pour more salt on the wound. ¡°I¡¯ve only used it to kill Scraps since. My sword is too good for them, you see? Too good for the likes of .¡±

    ¡°Come down from your perch if you dare, asshole,¡± Yuan replied coldly, his mind his own again, but his disdain unabated. ¡°You¡¯ll be the one dead in a ditch then!¡±

    ¡°Violence is forbidden for now,¡± Slash said with a sorrowful sigh as he holstered his stolen gun. ¡°Outside the race itself, of course.¡±

    Yuan spat liquid gunsmoke onto the ground below the locomotive. ¡°Coward!¡±

    The fangs of Slash¡¯s mask morphed into a vicious scowl. Yuan started to wonder if it was part of his actual face. ¡°Hardly,¡± Slash replied. ¡°Can¡¯t kill you even if I wanted to. The Big Bad Khan won¡¯t let his men participate, myself included. It¡¯s gotta be fair, you understand. No favoritism.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s afraid we¡¯ll kill you all?!¡± one of the racers jeered, the taunt echoed by laughs and shouts of anger. The assembly brimmed with bloodlust, excitement, and vengeful hatred for the Khan.

    ¡°I like your spirit!¡± Slash replied with a maniacal grin. He dramatically pointed at Yuan with his fist. ¡°Say, Scrap, how about we raise the stakes! You and me, one-on-one!¡±

    ¡°Pick the time and place,¡± Yuan replied with a snort of disdain. ¡°That¡¯s where and when you¡¯ll die!¡±

    ¡°In four days¡¯ time, in the Pagoda of Conquest!¡± Slash waved his hand at the immense palace overseeing Battletown. ¡°If you win the race, or at least get into the top three, then you¡¯ll be invited to the big boom party! There we¡¯ll be free to fight at our leisure! I¡¯ll get to behead you right in front of the big man himself!¡±

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    Yuan smiled, his teeth morphing into a furious and predatory snarl. ¡°Dig your tomb.¡±

    ¡°I look forward to putting you back into your own!¡± Slash laughed maniacally, then lost interest in Yuan. ¡°Anyway! Thank you all for coming to unmake this world further! You¡¯ve got three days to write your will and make peace with death, ¡®cause afterward, many of you won¡¯t outrun it!¡±

    Slash snapped his fingers. The giant screens adorning his perch tower lit up and projected pictures of a large racing circuit with six major checkpoints.

    ¡°For newcomers, the rules of the competition are simple!¡± Slash announced. ¡°Once the race begins, your registered vehicle has to pass by all six landmarks and then cross the finish line first! A special Barrier fueled by the Big Bad Khan himself will prevent you from veering off track! Otherwise, goes! Murder, techniques, whatever it takes to win! It¡¯s first past the post at any cost!¡±

    Yuan glanced at the other racers. To his frustration, he realized quite a few among them were eyeing him in particular, from that Duckman to monstrous hulks of flesh and savage borgs. Publicly singling out one of the Khan¡¯s henchmen for a duel had brought too much attention to his team.

    ¡°Our first three victors will get a seat at the Khan¡¯s table and a front-row view of the celebrations, but only the winning team will earn the ultimate prize!¡± Slash chuckled darkly. ¡°A fortune in slaves, pills, and gold, plus the Right of First Annihilation!¡±

    The History Road map shifted into one of the Fanged Coast. Multiple points appeared all across it alongside names. ¡®Fleshmarket,¡¯ ¡®Gatesville,¡¯ ¡®Furyland¡¯ and so many others...

    ¡°These are the fifty-three settlements within the Yinyang Khan¡¯s reach, many of them your own or your enemies!¡± Slash boasted. ¡°Win the race, and you¡¯ll get to pick which one is wiped off the map forever! Only one of you can win the right to fire the first shot!¡±

    ¡°First shot of ?!¡± The racer in the red race car next to the spirit-train asked. ¡°How can we be sure this isn¡¯t an empty threat?!¡±

    ¡°Oh, believe me.¡± The lips of Slash¡¯s mask stretched the ghastliest, most ominous of grins. ¡°You''ll know.¡±

    A chill traveled down Yuan¡¯s spine. He could wager how the Khan intended to prove his threat was no bluff at all: with an early demonstration.

    ¡°We¡¯ll now distribute a bracer to all participants and their crews!¡± Slash announced, patrolmen moving among the racers. ¡°You¡¯ll enjoy the Khan¡¯s protection inside Battletown until the race¡¯s start, and not one more day! The Big Bad Khan will see you all at the battle¡¯s dawn for the final salute!¡±

    Burying his overwhelming urge to slaughter Slash now that he had finally shut up, Yuan forced himself to prioritize his allies¡¯ safety and return to the locomotive. The cloud of fury veiling his mind quickly dispersed the moment he lost sight of his murderer. His bullet-core continued to pound in his skull, but nowhere near as painfully.

    Having a clear mind let Yuan realize that he hadn''t thought things through. Even if he won the duel with Slash, fighting him in front of the Yinyang Khan''s court meant that the warlord might take an interest in him and his allies; either to execute him for killing one of his men, or worse, force Yuan into his service. Then again, this could provide a good distraction to take the cube¡­

    If only Arc hadn''t been so cryptic! She had warned him that the Gun fed on the cycle of revenge between Gunsouls and their murderers, but failed to mention its pull. It seemed their patron was willing to remove their safeties and hasten the gunfight whenever the opportunity presented itself. Yuan would have appreciated a warning on that front.

    He and his mentor would have to talk. Again.

    Yuan found Holster and Orient waiting for him in the engine room, both of them giving him looks of concern.

    ¡°Are you feeling better, Honored Conductor Yuan?¡± Orient inquired.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ yeah, I think so,¡± Yuan replied with sincerity. Holster¡¯s small smile of relief warmed his heart. ¡°Thank you, both of you. I¡­ I wasn¡¯t myself back there. Wasn¡¯t thinking clearly. Brought too much attention to us.¡±

    ¡°I am not so sure, Honored Conductor Yuan,¡± Orient reassured him. ¡°Challenging one of the Yinyang Khan¡¯s men in public indeed puts the spotlight on you, but it will also encourage our host¡¯s enemies to approach you. I suspect we will find an opportunity to form valuable alliances.¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Yuan conceded. He doubted every racer was happy to participate in this race. Many threw their hats into the ring for fear of their own destruction. He would trust none of them with the cube¡¯s secrets, but a few might be interested in sabotaging the race.

    Afterward, Yuan had Holster briefly hide under a seat while the Khan¡¯s men distributed bracers to the contestants. They looked plain enough, a mere ring of ceramic bearing the Khan¡¯s skull insignia and woven sutras.

    ¡°It¡¯s a simple enough object,¡± Orient said after checking it out. ¡°It registers the wearer¡¯s qi signature and allows the creator to track down the wearers anywhere.¡±

    ¡°Does it have any other effect?¡± Yuan asked. He didn¡¯t detect anything special about it. ¡°Like draining our qi?¡±

    ¡°Not that I can tell yet. Miss Holster and I will do our best to analyze it.¡± Orient shook her head. ¡°I am more worried about that masked man. His qi felt wrong to me.¡±

    Yuan cursed himself for his lack of foresight. He had been too busy keeping his composure and dwelling on his anger to analyze Slash¡¯s qi while he had the chance. ¡°Wrong how?¡±

    ¡°I am not sure how to explain it,¡± Orient said, her fingers stroking her chin. ¡°He is¡­ , for lack of a better term. I had the feeling half of him was somewhere else.¡±

    Yuan heard a knock on his side. He looked down to see Holster peeking from beneath a seat, her hands joined to form a hand-sign.

    ¡°Mask?¡± Yuan translated. ¡°Something with his mask?¡± s?a??h th? N0??F?re.n?t website on G??gl? to access chapters of n?vels early and in the highest quality.

    Holster shook her head, then elaborated with more hand-signs whose meaning bothered Yuan. ¡°Slash a mask?¡±

    Did she mean Slash was hiding his skills? It made sense considering his seeming importance in the Yinyang Khan¡¯s hierarchy, but Holster¡¯s unnerved expression told him he should take the warning literally.

    What was Slash hiding?

    was he hiding?

 Chapter 58: Mel & Hardy

    Yuan had only spent a day in Battletown, and he already it.While the city was made of steel, suffering and exploitation were its true foundations. Yuan guessed he should have expected a place centered around a yearly death game and the slave trade to cater to all of humanity¡¯s vices. The streets sprawled with taverns, inns, bars, restaurants, brothels, drug shops and gambling dens. Every street corner even had its own massive screen showcasing one gladiatorial match or another.

    History Road wasn¡¯t the city¡¯s only attraction. Battletown hosted lesser racers, cage matches, and crueler games. Yuan briefly watched one on a screen where slaves were thrown at a Firewheel and people bet on the order in which the monster would crush them. It took all of his willpower not to shoot it down in disgust.

    The city did feel safe, in an oppressive kind of way. Groups of oni thugs and yaoguai warriors bearing the Khan¡¯s insignia patrolled the streets and promptly reacted to any commotion. Yuan had passed by a wall covered in the nailed hands of thieves who thought they could prey on tourists. Those were the lucky ones. Most criminals were enslaved and then sent to die fighting spirit-beasts in one arena or another.

    The city housed so many slave auctions Yuan found it nauseating. The city hosted a market¡¯s worth of flesh auctions near its docks, where yaoguai slavers from beyond the Oil Sea bet gold and pills on the finest flesh-crafted workers this side of the Fanged Coast had to offer. Yuan had seen Human Pillars younger than Holster forced to board a ship run by giant spiders.

    The more time Yuan spent in this town, the more he struggled against the urge to blow it all up. He knew instantly which place he would select should he ever win the Right of First Annihilation, even if the Yinyang Khan laughed it off.

    For now, he forced himself to behave and keep a low profile. Yuan, Bucket, and a few others had spread across Battletown to gather information and learned a few interesting tidbits since.

    First of all, Slash apparently acted as the Yinyang Khan¡¯s majordomo and right-hand man. Not only was he in charge of managing Battletown¡¯s biggest events and overseeing competitor recruitments, he also served as the city¡¯s chief of police. Information about his actual capabilities remained sparse and elusive. Slash rarely got his hands dirty, and few survived to tell the tale when he decided to.

    Second, Yuan gathered some tidbits on his fellow racers at a bar serving as a gambling den for the games. Its owners had compiled lists of contestants and the current bets on them, along with some other details like which sects sponsored them.

    Yuan scoffed as he reviewed the list while sitting at the counter, his beer glass still full¡ªhe hadn¡¯t been thirsty in days, but the patron wouldn¡¯t give him what he wanted if he didn¡¯t pay for . As a relative unknown, Yuan¡¯s own team was relatively low in the rankings, which served him just as well.

    Nearly all the Wayfinders¡¯ sects had sent a representative too, with that weirdo Duckman having apparently been recruited by the Spiral Dancers of all people. The current favorite, however, was an independent racer called Coyote. From what Yuan learned, he was a Speed Path follower who had won the previous History Road competition. His vehicle wasn¡¯t listed though.

    Yuan sensed the approach of two cultivators long before they sat on each side of him with a beer in hand. They were twins, both grizzled men in their forties with short dark hair, black eyes, three-day old beards, and matching leather jackets adorned with racer bracers. The only thing that set them apart were the color of their scarves and height; the shorter one wore a red piece of cloth, and the taller of the two wore a green one.

    Yuan pretended not to notice them, knowing they would make the first move; which they did.

    ¡°Scouting out the competition?¡± Red Scarf asked while reading Yuan¡¯s list.

    Yuan instantly recognized his voice. ¡°You¡¯re the sibling racers from yesterday.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve got a good ear.¡± Red Scarf offered him his gloved hand. ¡°Name¡¯s Mel, and that¡¯s my brother Hardy. I¡¯m the older one by a minute, but Hardy¡¯s taller.¡±

    ¡°You make me blush, bro,¡± the other replied with a chuckle.

    Yuan stared at the hand offered to him, but didn¡¯t take it. ¡°You¡¯re with the Dyad Sect,¡± he said with a grunt, having read their names on the list. ¡°You¡¯re working for the Khan?¡±

    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t lump us with that asshole!¡± Hardy spat in his glass. ¡°We¡¯ve chosen brotherhood and complementarity, not competition. Bro and I balance each other. We don¡¯t go around picking fights.¡±

    ¡°What bro said,¡± Mel replied. ¡°We represent the Dyad Sect, but the only thing we share with the Khan is our chosen Path. He gives us all a bad name.¡±

    ¡°Which is why we figured we should talk to you,¡± Hardy added. ¡°Since you¡¯ve challenged the Khan¡¯s right-hand, bro and I assumed we could help each other out.¡±

    Yuan remained too wary to take them at their word. ¡°This could be a setup.¡±

    ¡°Could be,¡± Mel said while shrugging his shoulders. ¡°We can form an Unspeakable Vow if you want. We don¡¯t mind.¡±

    The offer was so bold it took Yuan aback. ¡°You would risk your cores?"

    ¡°It¡¯s not like we¡¯re promising a service,¡± Mel replied with a shrug. ¡°We¡¯re just swearing that we¡¯re telling the truth right now. Seems safe enough to build up trust.¡±

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    He had a point. Yuan hadn¡¯t heard of any Path that could violate or trick a Unspeakable Vow, so he might as well go along with it. He stared at Mel¡¯s hand for a moment before taking it. His grip was strong, but friendly enough.

    ¡°Name¡¯s Yuan,¡± he said before proceeding with the vow. ¡°I swear on my core I¡¯m not an ally of the Yinyang Khan.¡±

    ¡°And we swear on ours we aren¡¯t allied with or employed by the Yinyang Khan and his forces,¡± Mel and Hardy said at the exact same time. Yuan felt a brief pressure on his bullet-core, then nothing. ¡°See? Not too bad.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not,¡± Yuan conceded. He did love their forwardness. ¡°You¡¯re looking for information?¡±

    ¡°Same as you, I suppose,¡± Mel said. ¡°Bro and I figured we could pool our knowledge.¡±

    ¡°You scratch our backs, we scratch yours,¡± Hardy added. ¡°In?¡±

    Yuan nodded sharply. He didn¡¯t entirely trust these two, but forming a loose alliance with fellow racers could only make his job easier; at least for a time. ¡°In.¡±

    ¡°Alright then,¡± Mel said. ¡°First thing first, that Right of First Annihilation, think that¡¯s a bluff?¡±

    Yuan¡¯s jaw clenched. ¡°No, it¡¯s not a bluff. The Khan has gained access to a power that may be able to destroy a city with the right setup.¡±

    Mel raised an eyebrow. ¡°May?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure he can control it,¡± Yuan replied. After seeing the Gun in action, he doubted that anyone could truly handle a demigod of ultraviolence; let alone an incarnation of nuclear devastation. ¡°It could blow up in everyone¡¯s face for all I know.¡±

    ¡°I see¡­¡± Mel sipped his beer. ¡°What¡¯s that power exactly?¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t say,¡± Yuan replied. He might have already given too much away. ¡°All that I can tell you is that it has to go away.¡±

    ¡°Withholding info isn¡¯t very fair-play,¡± Mel said with a frown. ¡°But we can agree on that last part."

    Yuan looked at him. ¡°You don¡¯t want the prize?¡±

    ¡°No. We don¡¯t have any enemies, we just don¡¯t want our place to disappear. Important distinction.¡± Mel shrugged his shoulders. ¡°We¡¯re participating to ensure nobody blows up our home.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll likely pick an empty spot in the desert if we win,¡± Hardy said. ¡°Or the least populated place, should the Dickhead Khan insist on blowing up a city.¡±

    The nickname made Yuan chuckle. ¡°Same,¡± he lied before asking a question of his own. ¡°What do you know about the other racers?¡±

    ¡°All the Wayfinders¡¯ sects except the Sky-Biter¡¯s brood have at least one representative crew,¡± Mel replied. ¡°The Flesh Mansion and Metallist were supposed to send people from Fleshmarket. Gayak and Gatling Boy, I think their names were.¡±

    ¡°Gatling Man,¡± Yuan replied. It surprised him to hear of those two again, but from the casual way Mel spoke of them the news about the city¡¯s destruction hadn¡¯t reached Battletown yet. ¡°They aren¡¯t coming.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what we heard too. Both got roped up in some elder feud in Fleshmarket.¡± Mel finished his beer and ordered a second. ¡°Which is good for us. Their sects still field two vehicles of their own, that big mutant centidead and the plane, but without a good cultivator driver at the helm we¡¯ll have an easy time blowing ¡®em up.¡±

    ¡°¡®Plane?¡¯¡± The word confused Yuan. ¡°What do you mean? Like it comes from the Nowhere?¡±

    ¡°Not that kind of plane,¡± Hardy replied with a laugh. ¡°The Metallists¡¯ vehicle can fly.¡±

    ¡°?¡± Yuan stared at him in shock, half expecting a joke and receiving none. ¡°Is that allowed?¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± Hardy chuckled. ¡°So long as it passes by the landmarks.¡±

    ¡°The Khan¡¯s Barrier extends upward, so the plane can¡¯t fly too high though,¡± Mel said. ¡°Should still be within shooting range if you wanna take it down.¡±

    ¡°The Deathsong Sect sent that bizarre ship thing,¡± Hardy added. ¡°I¡¯ve heard that its crew is made up of hungry ghosts. Bro and I got that covered.¡±

    Yuan was confident his team could take out specters too. Holster and Orient both possessed powers that could purify them. sea??h the novelF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡°What about Duckman?¡± Yuan asked.

    ¡°That weirdo?¡± Mel scoffed. ¡°The Spiral Dancers hired him, so he must be more dangerous than he looks. Don¡¯t know much about him otherwise.¡±

    ¡°Coyote is the one you should watch out for,¡± Hardy suggested. ¡°That one¡¯s a bloodthirsty psycho. He won last year because he killed a fourth of the contestants on his lonesome.¡±

    ¡°His vehicle isn¡¯t listed,¡± Yuan said. ¡°What does he drive?¡±

    ¡°Nothing,¡± Mel replied. ¡°He runs.¡±

    Yuan choked. ¡°?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s on the Path, remember?¡± Hardy replied with a shrug. ¡°Using a car would slow him down.¡±

    ¡°The other nutjob to watch out for is Chemzard,¡± Hardy said. ¡°She¡¯s a Drug Path cultivator and last year¡¯s runner-up. She gains different abilities based on which drug she consumes at any given time, but as you can guess, cocaine and techniques don¡¯t mix well. You never know how she¡¯ll act.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re offering me a lot more information than what I gave you,¡± Yuan noticed.

    ¡°Someone needs to give something away to build trust, otherwise nobody¡¯s gonna cross the bridge.¡± Mel set his second glass aside. ¡°Bro and I have a proposition for you.¡±

    Yuan guessed immediately. ¡°You want to form an alliance?¡±

    ¡°Sort of.¡± Mel joined his hands. ¡°We get out of each other¡¯s way until we reach the finish line. Afterwards¡­ Well, no hard feelings.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to end that way,¡± Yuan pointed out. ¡°I won¡¯t blow up your hometown.¡±

    Mel shook his head, much to Yuan¡¯s surprise. ¡°That¡¯s kind, but from the way you challenged Slash, that psycho will ask the Khan to blow up our place if you swear to spare it just to piss you off.¡±

    ¡°Only way we can ensure its safety for certain is if we win,¡± Hardy added. ¡°Can¡¯t reduce our options by agreeing to a vow with you.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Yuan replied. It was a shame, but he didn¡¯t begrudge them for choosing that option. They had no idea how the race would go, so any alliance might prove counterproductive past a certain point. At least they could avoid becoming enemies until the very end. ¡°About Slash¡­ someone told me half of his qi seemed to be elsewhere.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because it is,¡± Mel replied. ¡°The Dyad Path is unique in that it requires two cultivators to walk it together, whether as foes, rivals, or allies."

    ¡°Bro¡¯s core and mine are intertwined,¡± Hardy said. ¡°We can fuel each other¡¯s qi at will and combine our techniques.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the Path of duality,¡± his brother continued. ¡°Yin and Yang, reflections, eternal rivals, master and student¡­¡±

    Yuan¡¯s jaw clenched as an idea crossed his mind. ¡°A tyrant and his right-hand?¡±

    Mel scowled grimly. ¡°That¡¯s our guess too.¡±

    Yuan pondered that information. The Yinyang Khan and Slash had likely formed a Dyad bond. This explained why the former trusted the latter with the cube¡¯s recovery¡­ and why the Khan would never allow Yuan to kill his right-hand even if Slash agreed to a fight.

    ¡°I suppose you won¡¯t tell me about your sect¡¯s techniques?¡± Yuan asked. He doubted they would agree, even if they opposed the Khan, but it didn¡¯t hurt to inquire.

    ¡°No way,¡± Mel asked with a warm laugh. ¡°But we¡¯ll tell you this: the further a duo progresses along the Dyad Path, the stronger the bond becomes. At one point, it can transcend death itself.¡±

    A chill traveled down Yuan¡¯s iron spine. ¡°How so?¡±

    ¡°Our Elders can bring each other back from the Nowhere so long as one of them lives, and fear the Yinyang Khan.¡± Mel gave Yuan a long hard look. ¡°If you want to kill the student for good¡­ then you¡¯ll likely have to kill the teacher too.¡±

    Yuan could only hope that Arc undersold herself then.

 Chapter 59: LaChair

    Jared LaChair¡¯s clinic was unlike what Yuan had expected from a Flesh Mansion Sect cultivator.Instead of a chapel of flesh built from the backs and spines of harvested slaves, it was a mere office located in one of Battletown¡¯s poorest districts far away from the slave market. Glowing bars set into the ceiling nearly blinded Yuan with harsh light when he walked inside while rows upon rows of shelves were filled with bottled body parts and harvested organs. The room was cleanly pristine and free of bloodstains, while strange devices boasting arms equipped with saw blades, needles, and other surgical implements sat in a corner. That alone surprised Yuan, as few self-respecting Flesh Mansion Sect cultivators would rely on machinery.

    A look at Jared LaChair told him that the man differed quite a bit from the likes of Gayak and Elder Polio. Yuan might have mistaken him for a Metallist at first glance due to his implants. The mutant stood on four legs of flesh near a table and extracted organs from a dead, doglike spirit-beast with six metal arms equipped with various surgical tools. The cultivator¡¯s torso was a smooth mass of red flesh covered in dozens of eyes, with the remains of a bandaged head atop the shoulders. It turned in Yuan¡¯s direction when he heard him enter his clinic, his nose pointing at the Khan¡¯s bracer on his arm.

    ¡°I¡¯m not affiliated with the Flesh Mansion Sect¡¯s racers,¡± Jared said almost immediately with a gargled voice coming from his chest. Others must have visited him before Yuan in search of intel. ¡°I don¡¯t have any information to give you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not here for that,¡± Yuan replied. ¡°Mordiggian sent me."

    ¡°Mordiggian?¡± The mutant¡¯s head tilted slightly to the side in surprise, though he continued to operate on his subject. ¡°Now that¡¯s a name I haven¡¯t heard in a while. You want your metallic implants gone without losing your core, right? It¡¯s usually why he recommends me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Yuan didn¡¯t bother correcting him. Gunsouls seemed rare among these parts and the more people mistook him for a Metallist, the better his chances to take his enemies by surprise. ¡°Mordiggian told me you might be able to cure a Human Pillar.¡±

    Jared LaChair¡¯s metallic hands froze inside their ¡®patient¡¯s¡¯ guts. He pondered Yuan¡¯s words before pointing at a metal bench near the organ shelves.

    ¡°Sit there,¡± he said. ¡°Gimme a second to finish, then we¡¯ll talk.¡±

    Yuan didn¡¯t protest. He sat and watched as Jared extracted every organ from the spirit-beast, its pulsating core included, then placed them inside jars smelling of formaldehyde. The strange surgeon then shoved the corpse into a small box near the table; one with teeth and a tongue that swiftly swallowed the flesh and bones with a hungry growl. From the qi it produced, Yuan assumed it must have been a pet mimic of some sort.

    ¡°Cure ?¡± Jared asked curtly.

    ¡°Cure her of everything,¡± Yuan stated bluntly. ¡°Can you repair her core?"

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Jared replied. His hesitance felt like a cold shower to Yuan. ¡°How old is she?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a child no older than ten.¡±

    ¡°Good for her.¡± Yuan¡¯s outrage must have shown on his face, for Jared immediately waved a metal hand at him. ¡°Don¡¯t misunderstand me. A Human Pillar¡¯s core builds up qi as they grow older, which increases instability and the risk of it blowing up during the operation. She hasn¡¯t reached puberty yet, so she has good odds of fully recovering.¡±

    Yuan¡¯s jaw clenched in frustration. ¡°Good ?¡±

    ¡°Repairing a Human Pillar¡¯s core is an Elder-level surgical operation, doubly so if you want them to live through it. It¡¯ll cost you a lot.¡±

    Yuan expected as much. ¡°How much do you want?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not about what I , it¡¯s about what I . I would have to buy special cultivation tools, not to mention the pills and medicine to forestall side effects.¡± Jared LaChair crossed his arms, all three pairs of them. ¡°What do you intend to do with her afterward?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s none of your business.¡±

    ¡°I suppose not, but I¡¯m curious,¡± Jared replied. ¡°It¡¯s not often someone visits me to undo what makes a Human Pillar so valuable around these parts. Is she family?¡±

    The question sounded innocent enough, but it took Yuan aback nonetheless. He didn¡¯t remember his own, so he had little idea of what it meant. He had seen how people behaved with their siblings¡ªJaw-Long and Mingxia came to mind¡ªbut he didn¡¯t think he and Holster shared that strange, half-insult, half-kind words dynamic either.

    Nonetheless, the way Holster stared at him sometimes reminded him of how a child looked up to their parents. Maybe she considered him like the father she never had.

    ¡°Something like that,¡± Yuan confirmed. If being family meant being willing to kill to protect someone, then he and Holster more than fit the bill. ¡°I suppose.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Jared remained silent for a moment, his eyes carefully studying Yuan¡¯s metallic parts. ¡°Does the name mean anything to you?¡±

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    Hearing his fellow Gunsoul being mentioned caused Yuan to stare at the surgeon in surprise. He immediately cursed himself for his lack of self-control. Of course a Flesh Mansion Sect cultivator would know of Revolver, they put a price on his head.

    ¡°You¡¯re like him, aren¡¯t you?¡± Jared asked, his many-eyed stare lingering on Yuan¡¯s iron arms. ¡°Those parts aren¡¯t implants. They¡¯re naturally grown.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know where Revolver is,¡± Yuan replied sternly. ¡°And even if I did, I wouldn¡¯t tell you.¡±

    ¡°You couldn¡¯t pay me to see the guy again.¡± Jared sat on his surgical table, his four legs dangling in the void. ¡°I was there when Polio had him shot.¡±

    That confession surprised Yuan almost as much as a very telling detail: namely, that Jared conveniently forgot to call Polio ¡®Elder.¡¯ That spoke volumes about his standing in the sect.

    ¡°You lived in Fleshmarket,¡± Yuan guessed, barely hiding his resentment.

    ¡°I wish I never visited that hellhole.¡± The disdain in Jared¡¯s voice sounded real enough. ¡°I came from a smaller offshoot of the Flesh Mansion Sect further south. The kind that focuses on crops and animal husbandry instead of human experimentation and slavery.¡±

    Yuan scoffed. ¡°A rare breed.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re more numerous than you think in the outback, but the slave guilds have a lot more resources. Infernals and spirits don¡¯t trade favors for chicken meat.¡± Jared let out a grunt of disgust. ¡°My teacher sent me to Polio to study fleshcrafting. I hardly lasted a year before all the misery and torture wore on me.¡±

    ¡°Did you create Human Pillars?¡± Yuan asked with a dangerous edge to his voice. If he did¡­

    ¡°Hell no. I tried to stick to providing medical assistance and avoid dirtying my hands, but Polio kept pushing my limits. Harvest that organ before that slave dies, repair that one so he can go back to work¡­¡± Jared shook his head. ¡°When I realized he would inevitably put me through an ultimatum of some kind, I jumped at the first excuse to leave. Haven¡¯t touched the slave trade since.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why you run a clinic on your lonesome? To avoid partaking in it?¡± The surgeon confirmed it with a nod, which Yuan could respect. ¡°Who was he? Revolver?¡±

    ¡°A slave,¡± Jared replied bluntly. ¡°Polio¡¯s hunters raided his village and put a collar on him. I never learned his true name. He was pretty good at shooting people with a revolver even back then, so the nickname stuck.¡±

    This saddened Yuan. He had hoped that someone out there would at least recall his fellow Gunsoul¡¯s true name. Revolver deserved better than being remembered as the newest Gun.

    ¡°How did he die?¡± Yuan asked softly. Though he had heard details from Polio and Revolver himself, he lacked the full story.

    ¡°He kept trying to escape or rousing slaves into doing the same, which escalated into an incident where he stole a Scrap guard¡¯s gun and shot two First Coil students dead.¡± Jared cleaned blood off one of his razor hands. ¡°Some suggested lobotomizing him to keep him quiet, but Polio thought he would serve better as an example to other slaves.¡±

    Yuan struggled to hide his disgust. ¡°They had him executed in public.¡±

    ¡°I remember what Polio said that day,¡± Jared said. ¡° So he had Revolver shot in the back of the head and his body thrown into the desert to rot.¡±

    Yuan could see the obvious parallels with his own story. He and Revolver had lived by the gun and been executed with one by a cultivator who wouldn¡¯t waste their skills on them. He wondered if Arc suffered through a similar event, or if it was a recurring pattern with the Gun¡¯s chosen.

    ¡°I imagine he cused his decision after Revolver rose from the dead,¡± Yuan said.

    ¡°He did,¡± Jared replied with a strange, bellowing sound which Yuan took for a dark laugh. ¡°I left Fleshmarket after that, but kept in touch with some people. By the time Polio realized the mysterious gunslinger harassing his men was the same slave he executed months ago, he had already grown strong enough to fend off bounty hunters.¡±

    Yuan supposed Revolver at least got his revenge by helping destroy Fleshmarket, in a roundabout way. It saddened him that it came at the cost of his soul and freedom.

    ¡°You remind me of him,¡± Jared said. ¡°I assume the Human Pillar you want me to cure is a slave you rescued?¡± He took Yuan¡¯s tombstone silence in stride. ¡°I won¡¯t give you up to slavers. I¡¯m fine with operating her, but unless you have Elder-level resources to call upon, I doubt I can help you.¡±

    Yuan refused to give up. ¡°What if I win the History Road race?¡± he asked, grasping at straws. ¡°Would the Khan¡¯s promised fortune be enough to cover her treatment?¡±

    ¡°Maybe?¡± Jared didn¡¯t sound too confident. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to tell you, man. It depends on if I can obtain the necessary tools and pull off the operation.¡±

    The more Yuan considered it, the more this plan sounded unrealistic. He and Arc would likely have to skip town to keep the Cube of NATO safe from thieves and power-hungry cultivators; not to mention the danger that the likes of Manhattan and Yinyang Khan posed to them.

    His bullet-core pounded in his skull. A detail about Jared¡¯s diagnosis of Holster worried him.

    ¡°You said her core will become unstable as she ages,¡± Yuan whispered. ¡°What do you mean by that?¡±

    Jared didn¡¯t answer for a few seconds. ¡°I won¡¯t lie to you,¡± he finally said. ¡°That girl¡¯s core is likely to rupture and kill her by the time she reaches puberty, if not beforehand. Human Pillars aren¡¯t built to last.¡±

    A cold shiver took over Yuan, straining his muscles and freezing his gunpowder blood in his veins. He recognized that feeling, though he hardly felt it anymore: the chilling kiss of fear.

    Part of him already suspected something like this. All Human Pillars he heard of were children, but he simply assumed that their creators stuck to young people because spirits and infernals found them more valuable. He hadn¡¯t considered the possibility that they came with an .

    The idea of Holster dying so young shook him to his core. Sea??h the novelF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡°There are options,¡± Jared said upon sensing his unease. ¡°A powerful Long spirit could cure her, and there are artifacts out there that might do the same. If the worst comes to pass, Mordiggian can consume her core.¡±

    ¡°And turn her into a Scrap,¡± Yuan replied without enthusiasm. He knew it was hypocritical since he had been one not too long ago, but becoming a Gunsoul had since opened his eyes. Holster would be prevented from doing so many incredible things¡­ and becoming a Scrap meant being preyed upon by cultivators.

    No, no, he was letting his feelings cloud his judgment. Removing Holster¡¯s core wouldn¡¯t have to be the end of it. Yuan worked for years to gather enough cash and contacts to buy himself a pill. He had far more resources now, and strength to spare. He could find one for Holster¡¯s sake.

    ¡°Could she develop a new core after her old one is removed?¡± Yuan asked. ¡°By taking a pill?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Jared replied, dashing his hopes. ¡°Her body will be so spiritually weakened it will be unable to form one even with a qi infusion, bar the intervention of a powerful spirit or force. I wouldn¡¯t risk it."

    Of course it couldn¡¯t be so simple. Nothing ever was.

    Nonetheless, Yuan refused to give up. Something deep inside his bullet-core compelled him to find a better option; one that would let Holster keep her powers without robbing her of her future.

    He would give her the life he always wanted and never had.

 Chapter 60: The Fourth Coil

    Yuan threw himself into his training after his encounter with LaChair.Both his and Bucket¡¯s attempts at gathering information or approaching their fellow contestants yielded little results so far: Orient was nowhere near the fastest vehicle in the competition, and few competitors appeared interested in an alliance besides Mel and Hardy. Rampant paranoia and the fact Yuan openly challenged the Khan¡¯s right-hand man made many wary of him.

    And most worrying of all, they hadn¡¯t found a single sign of Manhattan¡¯s presence yet.

    The nuclear cultivator should be somewhere in the city. He knew that the Khan had the cube and left Fleshmarket long before Yuan¡¯s crew. He should have arrived earlier. Yuan suspected he was likely biding his time until the victory celebration. If so, they would have to plan for his inevitable interference.

    Yuan would have to fight many powerful enemies very soon, and crossing the Fourth Coil would help with that. Moreover, it would also provide a good bargaining chip to form alliances with other racers. The stronger Yuan became, the more attractive a partner he would become in their eyes.

    Hence he decided to spend the days and nights preceding the race training nonstop. He had completed his soul sutra circuit by the second day, a swift progress that pleased Arc.

    ¡°You¡¯re almost there,¡± Arc told him once he finished. She sounded halfway enthusiastic for once. ¡°Now comes the hard part. You¡¯ll need to cycle nonstop until your bullet-core fully aligns with the sutra script and thus perfects the circuit. That step will permanently bind you to the Gun Path, so here¡¯s your last chance to quit.¡±

    ¡°You already know my answer,¡± Yuan replied with a grunt. ¡°Will it compel me to shoot Slash on sight though?¡±

    ¡°Still sulking over that?¡± Arc snorted. ¡°I told you, the Gun feeds on the cycle of revenge. Your desire for payback is the very thing that fueled your resurrection.¡±

    ¡°You could have told me that my bullet-core would influence me so thoroughly.¡±

    ¡°You resisted the call, didn¡¯t you?¡± Arc didn¡¯t apologize in the slightest. ¡°The Gun has no more pull than a tiny voice in the back of your mind. It strengthens what¡¯s already in your heart. It encourages you, but the choice to pull the trigger remains your own.¡±

    Yuan may have stopped himself, but he would have appreciated a little forewarning. ¡°You just to withhold information, don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Yes, because otherwise you¡¯ll start taking straight answers for granted.¡± Arc¡¯s lips twisted into a smirk of cruel amusement. ¡°Half of a cultivator¡¯s training is learning how to handle frustration.¡±

    If so, then Yuan was overqualified.

    ¡°You¡¯ll need to meditate without interruption until the process is complete. Any interference could prove disastrous, so you¡¯ll have to seal yourself shut someplace until you finish or die.¡± Arc said the last part so absent-mindedly that Yuan nearly missed it. ¡°The metals wagon will help by increasing the output of qi you can cycle with. With luck and perseverance, you should cross the Fourth Coil within a day¡¯s time.¡±

    ¡°A day?¡± A surge of pride flared within Yuan¡¯s heart. ¡°I¡¯ve hardly been a cultivator for a month and you think I could cross the Fourth Coil so soon?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get cocky,¡± Arc warned him. ¡°You¡¯re about to hit the Authority wall. It¡¯s possible to blaze through the Coils beforehand¡ªand you¡¯re the quickest to do so¡ªbut that step takes years to cross, if ever. Most Elders languish there for .¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes, I know.¡± Yuan was only trying to find some joy in his progress. ¡°I¡¯m not going to catch up to you or Manhattan anytime soon.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Arc replied bluntly. ¡°But keep working hard and you¡¯ll eventually close the gap. No mountain is too tall for the determined to climb.¡±

    Something about her tone gave Yuan pause. Her words sounded like the same vague platitude every sect teacher gave their students at one point or another, but they carried a blunt kind of earnestness. He vividly recalled how Arc first dismissed him when she took him under her wing, half-expecting him to die long before he reached Manhattan.

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    Her opinion of him had changed a great amount since then. Now she believed he could eventually create his own Authority given time and effort.

    It inspired Yuan to do better.

    Arc remained silent for a few seconds and then quickly moved on. ¡°The Gun Demon Incarnation technique works by temporarily transforming you into your spiritual reflection. Cycling constantly will force your bullet-core and body to align with your soul. To put it simply, you¡¯ll briefly become an Infernal; a weapon-demon of gun violence.¡±

    Yuan scowled. ¡°Like the Gun?¡± S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡°Sort of,¡± Arc confirmed. ¡°Your mind will remain your own, but the burst of power will feel intoxicating. Learning how to ride the high without losing control will take time. I suggest that you focus on an emotional anchor while in that state. Remind yourself of what keeps you grounded so you don¡¯t fly off.¡±

    Yuan already knew what to focus on. ¡°How long will the transformation last?¡±

    ¡°Until you run out of qi or cancel it,¡± Arc replied. ¡°The Gun Demon Incarnation technique is a double-edged sword. It¡¯ll grant you a burst of power, multiply your strength, and provide you with natural weapons at the cost of a future backlash. Once it ends, you¡¯ll be unable to use techniques for a brief lapse of time as your body recovers.¡±

    ¡°Only techniques?¡± Yuan noticed the subtility. ¡°So you are saying I can still use feng shui and sutras afterwards?¡±

    ¡°You catch on quickly,¡± Arc complimented him. ¡°The more time you spend in your infernal form, the longer the technique loss will last. You¡¯ll need to pace yourself.¡±

    Yuan nodded sharply, then rose up to move to the metal wagon and proceed with the exercise. He briefly stopped at the door as he recalled something.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Arc asked.

    ¡°You learned about the Perfect Shot from a Long dragon sage,¡± Yuan replied. ¡°Do they still live?¡±

    ¡°Yes, in a sanctuary far to the west beyond the Fanged Coast.¡± Arc immediately guessed his intentions. ¡°You want him to heal the child.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Yuan confirmed. He wanted Holster to enjoy life to the fullest. ¡°Do you think the Long would agree to it?¡±

    ¡°Maybe. It would be a long journey though, and fraught with danger.¡±

    ¡°I would like you to mark the location on a map to Orient, if you don¡¯t mind,¡± Yuan said. ¡°If either of us doesn¡¯t make it through the competition, I would like her to lead Holster to that Long for treatment.¡±

    ¡°I see no issue with that.¡± Once again, Arc¡¯s lips stretched into that strange smile of fondness. ¡°I¡¯m starting to believe I was wrong about you.¡±

    ¡°In a good way?¡±

    She chuckled. ¡°Yes.¡±

    Yuan moved into the metal wagon with a lighter heart.

    He immediately sensed the flow of ambient qi the moment he sat in the middle of the room. The very essence of refined metal, the kind that fueled his own core, suffused into every inch of the bagua array in the wagon¡¯s center. Meditating here was akin to breathing steel and tasting pure iron.

    Yuan could feel it seep through his skin. The frontier between his sense of self and the very essence of qi grew thinner by the day. Processing it through his bullet-core hardly demanded any conscious effort on his part.

    Yuan began to cycle, a pulse of qi emerging from his core and traveling through his wafer-thin layers of circuitry. The sutras engraved into his veins formed a single formula whose near-invisible nano-inscriptions lit up one after the other as qi traveled through his body from his head to his toes and then back up to his skull. His piston-muscles and steel-flesh sang a prayer

    Then the qi returned to his bullet-core, followed by .

    A sharp surge of agony erupted in his bullet-core, the same way it did back when he encountered the Gun. A visceral sensation overtook his skull, cruel and familiar: the memory of Slash¡¯s bullet shattering his bones and worming its way into his brain.

    Yuan powered through the pain, as he did so many times before. His bullet-core unleashed another pulse of qi through the circuit, rehearsing the prayer in the span of a nanosecond. Yuan braced himself for the second round.

    Instead of his death, he experienced all at once.

    He felt bullets hit his body in countless directions. The back of his skull, his stomach, his heart, his ribs, and all his body parts. He watched a firing squad of faceless soldiers load their rifles through twenty pairs of eyes and suffered ten deaths in the span of an instant.

    Yuan endured the round of cycling in spite of his confusion, but the third proved even . His body hit a mass grave in a forgotten jungle at the same time his fractured skull joined a pile of them.

    It was the fourth round that forced him to bite his metal tongue with his ammo teeth so as not to scream in pain. There he filled the trenches to the tune of distant bombardments, his mind watching the assault through hundreds of barrels.

    Only then did Yuan understand what engraving the Gun Path and its Bullet Hell into his core truly meant.

    It meant the Bullet Hell. it. it.

    Every part of it, all of its bloodsoaked history, all the way back to its beginning. He had to make the very concept of such an inherent part of his soul that it would be there every time he closed his eyes.

    By the time Yuan reached the fifth round of cycling, the barrel of a gun had burst out of his skull.

 Chapter 61: Gun Demon Incarnation

    Yuan¡¯s mind was lost in a maelstrom of gunshots and violence.His bullet-core continued to cycle on its own, for beyond the agony lay a wasteland of bloodthirst and ecstasy. The pain he experienced through the death echoes of gunfire victims blurred with the satisfaction of the shooters, the primal delight of glorious savagery joining with the intoxicating terror of industrialized annihilation.

    Mechanized slaughter was a terrible thing to experience, but the freedom, the freedom of it all! There was such pleasure to be found in watching a bullet storm, such enlightened peace to be experienced in the symphony of gunshots! A tidal wave of blood swirled and raged behind walls built on holy bricks and foundations of pointless causes, bound to collapse by the impermanence of all things!

    Only violence was . Only death lasted .

    He danced with armageddon amidst falling bombs and the rising tides of revolution. He fought for countless gods and kings, for the nameless state and the glorious leaders, but beyond these idols, he waged wars for its own sake. He shot a million fathers into dirty trench-tombs and won a thousand duels in the desert. He gunned down civilizations and brought down castles back to dust.

    He was chaos. He was death by metal and gunpowder. He was Gu¡­ Gu¡­

    No.

    He was¡­ Yu¡­ Yu¡­

    Not-Gun!

    Not a gun!

    He tried to force his mind out of the maelstrom of violence that threatened to swallow him whole, to raise a barrier that would separate his sense of self from the death, murders, and savage mechanical madness that threatened to free him from his earthly limits¡ªthat threatened to

    But he couldn¡¯t stop the process. His own soul sang a symphony of gunshots by using his body as an instrument. It reshaped his iron flesh to further improve the music, morphing his hands into miniguns and cannons while setting his breath ablaze with the fires of Bullet Hell.

    He struggled to find a reason to stay out of the maelstrom. What purpose was a human will in the lead heart of pointless destruction? A gun didn¡¯t think, didn¡¯t judge, a gun just shot and killed the innocent and the guilty, the young and the old, kings and scraps. To a true gun, was a target.

    What use was a for a firearm? However they were built, they always delivered the same package; a little piece of death wrapped in a lump of lead. A name alone wasn¡¯t enough to keep him grounded in reality, for every gun existed for itself anyway.

    But there was something else he lived for¡­ else¡­ a girl with crimson hair who believed in him, praying that he would protect her, guide her, and fill her heart with happiness.

    Holster.

    Her name pierced the fog of bloodlust and madness like a silver bullet through the darkness. The flash of insight let a flood of memories flow back into his brain. His name was Yuan, Yuan Guang; and he was no ghost haunting countless battlefields, but a man sitting alone in a room of steel.

    His body remained trapped in an intermediary state, a shifting instability between his evanescent soul and his solid iron flesh. The qi coursing through him threatened to return to the Dao; not as a Wayfinder¡¯s will powerful enough to reshape reality, but as mindless and formless energy. Every round of cycling weakened his bullet-core¡¯s grip on reality, threatening to unbind his spirit and send it floating adrift into the Nowhere.

    Crossing the Fourth Coil required engraving himself onto his chosen Path without becoming one of its paving stones.

    Holster gave him perspective. Memories of her smiles compelled him to focus. He recalled the time he rescued her, the day he gifted her her first gun, how she saved him from the rad-hag and subtly guided him forward.

    Focusing on her allowed Yuan to remember another name too. Orient. Kind Orient, who was always so gentle and caring, who offered him her ear whenever he required it without judgment nor condemnation.

    He recalled other Gunsouls too. Revolver, to whom he owed his life and sought to free from the curse consuming him; and Arc, whom he did not wish to disappoint. He remembered Bucket and the civilians aboard the spirit-train, which he had taken under his protection. He couldn¡¯t let them down.

    were his anchor; the weight and bonds that prevented his soul from being absorbed into the Gun Path.

    The next few cycling rounds carried so much pain and joy. Yuan witnessed nightmares born of hellish defeats and the glories of overwhelming victories. Neither managed to lull him back into the maelstrom. Focusing on his anchors allowed Yuan to walk the Gun Path without falling.

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    He went back, traveling from Kalash Angels to arquebuses and finally, to fire sticks and lances. He gazed upon the first of all firearms, a cone of metal invented in an ancient land long forgotten, and to the first death it inflicted; that of its own creator in a disastrous incident.

    The last round of cycling set his soul alight like the sun.

    Yuan pierced the illusions of terror and mindless joy to touch the Dao. He had done so before when he crossed the previous Coils, but back then he had only become aware of how everything fit together into a harmonious whole.

    This time, Yuan understood his place in the universe. His chosen purpose.

    A veil of devastating memories cleared to reveal a different vision of the Gun Path. He fought with soldiers in the name of protecting their homeland from those who would conquer it by right of violence. He saw lawmen hunting down those who preyed on the weak across the ever-expanding frontier. He watched fathers fire at tigers and wolves threatening to eat their children. Some never even pulled the trigger; for a loaded rifle could bring peace without firing a single shot.

    A gun without a cause only brought death, but with purpose, it could become so much more. In the right hands, it could serve justice, protect the weak, and punish evil.

    That was the gun Yuan wanted to be.

    At that moment, Yuan Guang himself. He achieved a sense of self-awareness beyond instinct. This taste of enlightenment hardly lasted a second before he returned to reality in a new and powerful body.

    Yuan had grown twice as tall as before, with his barrel-face longer than a human arm and his ammo teeth sharp enough to cut through steel. His breath had turned into a stream of flames. Fire qi used to be his weakness, but his new form turned it into a strength. Instead of melting away, his metal harnessed the blaze within him, guiding its boundless appetite while using it to reforge itself into a perfect living weapon. His arms had changed, the left one now a minigun waiting to unleash an endless stream of ammunition and his right hand a cannon exuding heat hotter than plasma.

    Iron skulls covered his torso. His flesh remembered the last qi echoes of those he had slain, like proud battle scars forever immortalizing his victories. His back thrusters produced an endless flow of heat and flames. Yuan had to force himself to power them down and stay standing on the wagon¡¯s floor. He no longer required the Recoil Fist to propel himself. He now knew how to fly better than any bird.

    And the power¡­ His entire being brimmed with . His core was a raging furnace filling his veins with superheated qi. The power coursing through him would have set his Third Coil self ablaze.

    Yuan Guang felt .

    But he had also tasted death and defeat in the past. The knowledge of his own mortality let him retain enough presence of mind to focus on the way his bullet-core was burning through his qi reserves.

    Arc had warned him he couldn¡¯t keep up his current state forever. Considering the current rate at which he burned through his qi reserves, Yuan would estimate that length to be about ten, maybe eleven minutes tops; a duration that would shorten with every technique he used. Gun Demon Incarnation provided a short burst of power, but one that should prove long enough to carry him through a fight.

    Returning to his humanoid form hardly took more than a thought and a second. Yuan immediately felt crippled, both physically and spiritually. His sharpened cultivator senses seemed so dull after receiving a taste of true infernal power.

    Forcing himself to undo the Gun Demon Incarnation felt spiritually awful to Yuan. He was shackling himself, forcing his firearm soul back into a humanoid-shaped prison. He suffocated inside his own metal skin.

    ¡°So that¡¯s what it means to engrave an innate technique,¡± Yuan muttered to himself as he looked at his hands. He was born with them, yet they suddenly seemed so ill-fitting to him. ¡°You them. them.¡±

    Gun Demon Incarnation was his state now.

    His human form had become little more than a security blanket; a restraint meant to let him rest between gunfights without harming himself or others. His bullet-core yearned to return to this exalted state that now fit him so much better than his human form.

    Had Gayak felt that way too with his Dance of Endless Mutation? Transforming into an ever-shifting incarnation of evolution seemed to fill him with immense elation during their duel. That explained why the likes of Polio and Jared retained such a bizarre appearance. Their very cores sought to transcend their constrained human shells.

    Yuan wondered if he might learn how to maintain Gun Demon Incarnation at all times with the proper training. It was something he would have to look into once he fully mastered his transformation.

    ¡°Orient?¡± Yuan called out to the wagon. ¡°Are you there?¡±

    Orient¡¯s human avatar immediately materialized in the metal wagon, her eyes alight with relief. However, she seemed¡­ than before, for a lack of a better term. Yuan briefly blinked until he realized his vision had a better time identifying those tiny, near-undetectable weak points in the human frame. Orient¡¯s current form was a projection, a lifelike mannequin that mimicked the outer appearance of a human woman while lacking organs or bones on the inside, but it still sported a few defects inherent to its structure: a soft neck, flexible joints, soft spots where her qi traveled¡­

    All these small targets would maximize any bullet impact.

    The thought of shooting Orient never crossed Yuan¡¯s mind, but his Fourth Coil senses had developed a laser focus on detecting such weaknesses. His aim probably improved quite a bit as well.

    ¡°Have you regained your senses, Honored Conductor Yuan?¡± Orient asked him, a hint of concern in her voice. ¡°When you transformed into that Gun creature, I feared the worst.¡±

    ¡°Worry not.¡± Yuan exhaled a deep breath of flame. The gunsmoke in his lungs had now grown hot enough to ignite itself. ¡°I am in control of it, finally.¡±

    ¡°Hearing this soothes my soul.¡± Orient happily nodded to herself. ¡°While Lady Arc kept faith, Miss Holster and I feared that you would meditate through the competition. You have woken up just in time.¡± Sea?ch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡°Just in time?¡± Her wording caused Yuan to scowl. ¡°How much time did I spend cycling?¡±

    ¡°Two days and nights.¡± Orient gave him a grim look, yet one full of determination. ¡°The race begins in two hours.¡±

 Chapter 62: Three, Two, One

    A hundred qi-powered engines hummed in anticipation.The residents of Battletown gathered atop its walls to acclaim and cheer on the competitors. Green flying eye-drones spread across the entire length of the History Road highway, recording and displaying everything on countless screens inside the city.

    The great bridge linking Battletown to the rest of the wasteland buckled under the weight of all the gathered racers¡¯ vehicles. Over a hundred of them gathered at sunrise to participate in the race, bearing the banners of major sects and independent Paths alike. Orient herself bore the black moon flag of the Moonlight Sect behind her locomotive¡¯s chimney.

    Yuan assessed the competition with his newly enhanced sight. His Fourth Coil senses provided him with a wealth of information on the subtle weak points of each vehicle; which thin spots in the armor would let bullets through, which exhaust ports would blow up when overheated, and which conductors looked the most fragile. His team would need every last morsel of intel to prevail today.

    From what Yuan had gathered, the Khan¡¯s men ran the various competitors through speed tests yesterday to measure their lap time and starting position; a session which he had been too busy cycling to notice. At the forefront of the racers stood a thin, gaunt man with sunglasses and a brown canine¡¯s head and pelt over his shoulders. The infamous Coyote, no doubt. As Mel and Hardy warned him, the man participated on foot, with no equipment except for his bloodstained clothes.

    Speaking of the twins, the two had secured a place side-by-side ahead in the pack; their racing cars ready to ride into the wasteland together. A colossal, dekotora-style spirit-truck roared behind them, though Yuan would rather have called it a mobile nightclub instead. The front looked normal enough¡ªif one ignored the shining yellow eyes that served as the vehicle¡¯s headlights¡ªbut the back was outfitted with oversized speakers on the sides, multicolored neon lights pulsing with qi, towers equipped with spinning mirror balls, and a small mobile stage on which a small group of oni were holding a loud concert. The smell of cocaine coming out of the exhaust ports quickly informed Yuan that this vehicle likely belonged to Chemzard, the race¡¯s second most dangerous racer.

    ¡°I apologize for our placement, Honored Conductor Yuan,¡± Orient said, her voice coming from the metal beneath his feet. ¡°I am truly ashamed of myself.¡±

    ¡°It couldn¡¯t be helped,¡± Yuan reassured her. Unfortunately, the spirit-train¡¯s need to spend qi on keeping Arc¡¯s Authority contained meant Orient didn¡¯t perform too well during yesterday¡¯s speed test session. The crew would start a bit below the middle of the pack, ahead of the heavier vehicles like the Flesh Mansion Sect¡¯s giant centidead, the ghost-ship, and the Metallists¡¯ plane. Not too great, not too terrible.

    At least they were ahead of Duckman.

    Truthfully, Yuan was more bothered by his crew¡¯s inability to form alliances beyond Mel and Hardy. Arc said that crossing the Fourth Coil would take him a day at ; he should have expected to take more time than that to complete his transformation and plan accordingly.

    Alas, it was already too late to do anything about it. His crew would treat everyone today as a hostile foe with the exception of the twins, and even that truce would only last until they reached the finish line.

    ¡°Loaded and ready sir!¡± Bucket shouted from behind his own artillery cannon. Rifle barrels peeked out from all of the spirit-train¡¯s windows. ¡°We¡¯ll shoot the heathens straight to the afterlife station!¡±

    ¡°What about Arc?¡± Yuan asked.

    ¡°Lady Arc remains undetected by our enemies for now,¡± Orient replied. ¡°She, however, insisted on keeping things that way unless a foe threatens to derail me.¡±

    ¡°I agree with her.¡± Arc was their ace-in-the-hole. The longer they could keep her up their sleeve, the better. ¡°Holster?¡±

    ¡°Safely stored inside my engine with the other repairmen. She volunteered to assist should I take damage.¡±

    . Yuan saw dangerous cultivators armed to the teeth wherever he looked. The competition¡¯s rules demanded that a vehicle cross the finish line¡ªwith the exception of Coyote, who registered himself as such¡ªso many would focus on trying to derail Orient rather than taking out her crew.

    Slash¡¯s absence also bothered him. The man said he would show up on the day of the race, but neither Orient nor anybody else saw him yet. Either he was running some scheme in secret, or the Yinyang Khan put him up to something.

    The sound of trumpets resonated from Battletown, catching Yuan¡¯s attention. The camera-drones escorting the contestants gazed at the sky, their pupils producing streams of multicolored lights.

    Yuan recognized that technology as qi-powered holograms. Metallists often used them either as part of advanced techniques or to make public announcements, and he leaned on the latter case. He was right.

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    The Yinyang Khan manifested from the swirling light.

    Yuan knew who he was the moment he caught sight of this monster¡¯s projected face: a pale white face boasting dark hair neatly tied into a bun, a black jaw, and a smile full of razor-sharp teeth. He was every bit the monster Yuan had expected, a muscular colossus with four arms thicker than tree trunks and hands that could crush a head within their fingers. He dressed extravagantly, with a white lightning tiger¡¯s skin strapped across his chest, fine golden clothes covering his legs, and a malas necklace of small skulls hanging from his neck.

    His entire body followed a yin-yang motif. His upper chest was black as a starless night, his abs white and shaped like closed teeth. His two upper arms were pale, the lower ones dark, with sutras tattoos of the opposing colors stretching across his rugged skin. Even his pupils resembled lonely, cruel stars in a sea of darkness and malevolence.

    Though it was a mere hologram hovering over the battlefield, Yuan could taste the flowing out of the man. Manhattan had been cold and devoid of emotions, but the Khan¡¯s smile oozed a particularly savage brand of cruelty. A poisonous forked tongue slithered between his fangs as he applauded the racers with wide hand gestures.

    ¡°Once again, I salute you, Nowhere Riders!¡± The Khan¡¯s voice reverberated through the loudspeakers, like the echo of two men speaking at once. ¡°Once again, the blood of champions shall grace the History Road for the pleasure of Battletown!¡±

    The crowds acclaimed their master with a deafening chorus of shouts and screams; an eerie contrast with the silent racers, who instead focused on the road ahead.

    ¡°All of you won a race while you were in your mother¡¯s womb, and for your victory, you earned the right to be born!¡± the Khan declared, his holographic fingers pointing boldly at the drivers while a jolly smile stretched across his face. ¡°Today, I invite you to seize your chance at rebirth! Those who cross my finish line shall be raised to glorious heights by my hand! I offer the victor the right to be , for your second birth shall be celebrated through the death of thousands!¡±

    Yuan¡¯s hands clenched into fists. He sensed the foul qi building up around him and gathering inside Battletown¡¯s palace. The flow was so subtle only a few racers noticed, Mel and Hardy among them.

    ¡°Those who survive the trial of History Road shall ride with me onwards to glorious conquest!¡± The Khan boasted to the heavens with a foul kind of charisma. ¡°For I promise you, the strong shall inherit the Earth! Through the sweat of your brow and the fruits of your toil, this Unmade World shall one day be yours!¡±

    The flow of qi grew stronger and its foul stench more noticeable. Green, poisonous specks of irradiated energy swirled around the Yinyang Khan¡¯s cursed city, which disturbed Orient to her core. ¡°Honored Conductor Yuan¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Yuan whispered, his iron jaw tight and strained. ¡°It¡¯s nuclear qi.¡±

    The Khan tightened his fists, all four of them. ¡°All I ever desired was a kingdom worthy of my rule! A land of the mighty, ruled by strength and will! A golden highway paved with the bones of the weak, a slaughterhouse of the meek, a frontier of carnage!¡± S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    . Hearing the demented dictator¡¯s rant only strengthened Yuan¡¯s poor opinion of him. Worst of all, he seemed to believe in his own deranged gospel. The Yinyang Khan had already paved the History Road with the corpses of children who couldn¡¯t defend themselves.

    The Khan was filth. The very same kind of monster that turned the Unmade World into such a miserable place and robbed the likes of Holster of their future. The Khan didn¡¯t deserve a kingdom of his own; only a bullet to the face.

    Yuan would be more than happy to provide. Every fiber of his being demanded it.

    ¡°At long last, I have found the kindling to my esteemed ambition! The fuse that lights the sun!¡± The Yinyang Khan opened his palm. ¡°Behold how I summon the fires of history with a snap of my fingers!¡±

    Yuan braced himself for combat. A vibration spread across the spirit-train¡¯s length and an invisible pressure weighted upon all the gathered vehicles. The cultivators among them had sensed the qi build-up inside Battletown and what it meant: danger.

    ¡°Let the flash of my power light your engines onward to victory! Trample the past and carve a blazing path across the ruins of this world! To the winner the cinders!¡± The Yinyang Khan raised his hand and rubbed his fingers together, building up anticipation. ¡°Three!¡±

    Yuan activated Elemental Infusion and strengthened his steel bones. Dozens of hands tightened their grip on their driving wheels.

    ¡°Two!¡±

    The roar of the engines turned into a subtle humming sound, the calm before the final gunshot.

    ¡°One!¡±

    The Yinyang Khan snapped his fingers and set the horizon ablaze.

    The explosion happened so far away from Battletown that Yuan first mistook it for a sunlight mirage; at least, until he saw the colossal column of dust and smoke rising in the middle of the desert. It looked like a mushroom of fire and sand growing out of a collapsing stone mountain.

    The shockwave hit them in an instant.

    A suffocating wave of hot air and dust blew over Yuan¡¯s face, followed by a thundering boom loud enough to wake the dead. The weaker windows among the contestants¡¯ vehicles shattered in an instant, sending shrapnel flying in all directions; some of them included Orient¡¯s own, the shards hitting some of their passengers. The blast blew enough eye-drones off course to dissipate the Khan¡¯s hologram. He had been smiling ear to ear all the way to the detonation.

    Yuan watched the rising plume of smoke in awe and horror. The fiery kiss of the Nuke was a wholly different spectacle than the Gun¡¯s rain of bullets, but no less horrifying in its desolation.

    A brief, heavy silence fell upon Battletown. Neither the racers nor the crowds dared to move, nor utter a word. Even the likes of Coyote and Duckman remained speechless before such a mighty display of destruction. A truth had finally dawned on them.

    The Yinyang Khan¡¯s Right of First Annihilation was no mere bluff of a diseased mind.

    The power to shatter mountains and level cities was on the line.

    The engines roared all at once. Vehicles big and small surged forward in a mad dash for victory and survival, while bullets started flying everywhere in a steely cacophony. Orient¡¯s locomotive let out a terrible noise as she picked up speed.

    And so began the last History Road.

    With fire and fury.

 Chapter 63: Road Rage

    Orient sped up like a bullet fired from a gun.Yuan had already seen the immense velocities that she could achieve before, but his friend usually built-up momentum before reaching it. Necessity now demanded that she did that in . Her massive bulk surged across the bridge and trampled one overhasty car which had the bad luck of getting in the locomotive¡¯s way.

    The first gunshots followed soon after.

    Grabbing his revolver, Yuan quickly exchanged fire with a trio of Humvees driving under some unknown sect¡¯s banner. His qi-powered projectiles blew up each of the vehicles in a single shot. Bucket and the others began to bombard the closest racers at will with little rhyme or reason, since almost everyone was an enemy today. Projectiles flew across the sky in a chaotic melee of dust and steel under the watchful gaze of the Yinyang Khan¡¯s eye-drones.

    A mighty sonic boom echoed out further ahead. Coyote had taken a single step forward, his feet radiating qi like twin spirit-furnaces. Such was his immense speed that he whipped up a storm of dust in his wake; Yuan¡¯s eyes wouldn¡¯t have been able to track him had he not crossed a few Coils already. Chemzard¡¯s monstrous truck chased after the lead racer, outpacing Mel and Hardy who followed closely behind.

    Yuan cursed while the Flesh Mansion Sect¡¯s centidead monstrosity ran up to Orient, the two giant vehicles riding side by side across the History Road. It would be a nightmare for the spirit-train to catch up to the best racers. He had to pray that they would waste time fighting each other.

    Yuan heard a boom at the back of the pack. He turned around just in time to see the Metallists¡¯ ¡®plane¡¯ machine take flight with a roar of its wing-reactors. The Deathsong Sect¡¯s ghost boat imitated it, though it flew by the power of its qi rather than any form of technology. Both colossal machines cast twin dark shadows over the spirit-train as they passed over it.

    Rusted steel cannons emerged from the ship¡¯s skeletal hull and pointed down.

    ¡°Shoot them down!¡± Yuan ordered his crew. He quickly waved a Barrier around his arm in preparation for a Recoil Blast, right as the metal plane¡¯s backside opened to drop down bombs on the History Road. ¡° of them!¡±

    Bucket and the others turned their artillery up at a speed that felt agonizingly slow to Yuan¡¯s enhanced senses. Deciding to focus on the phantom ship¡ªsince he doubted non-qi weapons could hit that spectral vehicle¡ªhe fired his blast by the time his allies shifted their guns an inch.

    Yuan immediately sensed a large difference from his performance back when he was at the Third Coil. While Orient whipped up a Barrier behind his back to support him, he didn¡¯t really need it. His body had grown strong enough to withstand most of the Recoil Blast¡¯s backlash without requiring assistance. The attack¡¯s power had grown slightly too; Yuan¡¯s Gun-aligned body had a much easier time processing qi to fuel its associated techniques, even adaptive ones.

    His Recoil Blast coursed across the sky at high speed, striking the phantom ship¡¯s skeletal hull before it could open fire. The impact erupted in an explosion of qi that pulverized a fifth of the bones making up its bulk to dust and shattered cannons into a rain of steel shrapnel. Hungry ghosts shrieked and wailed in undying rage.

    Nonetheless, the boat continued to gain altitude while its remaining weapons returned fire with spectral cannonballs. The Metallists¡¯ plane also dropped a rain of explosives at the same time. While Bucket¡¯s group did a good job at shooting down a few, they were too slow to stop them all.

    Orient¡¯s voice resonated across all of her wagons. ¡°Everybody down!¡±

    Yuan followed her command by crouching, as did the artillery gunners. Qi arose from the leyline and swirled around the spirit-train to form an impenetrable Barrier an inch above Yuan¡¯s head.

    Bombs and enchanted cannonballs alike rocked the History Road in a cataclysmic series of explosions. An ocean of fire and smoke obscured Yuan¡¯s vision, though his qi-sight let him sense many SUVs, trucks, and cars blowing up alongside their drivers. A deafening cacophony of detonations followed a storm of dust and debris.

    Orient¡¯s shifting Barrier repelled them all.

    Yuan wondered how she managed to keep something like this up while staying mobile, before quickly realizing that she used a method similar to Gayak¡¯s workaround: Orient created short-lived, overlapping stationary Barriers that individually shielded different wagons.

    Their protection proved solid enough for the spirit-train to leave for the highway relatively unscathed. The bridge behind them collapsed under the explosions¡¯ strain, its metal foundations sinking into the oil mire. A landscape of ruined vehicles burned behind them to the joy of Battletown¡¯s crowds.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    However, Orient¡¯s use of Barriers forced her to slow down a bit and allowed the Flesh Mansion Sect¡¯s centidead monster to outpace them. The monster suffered burns from the bombardment and swiftly shed its outer scales in response, trading away its damaged armor in exchange for higher speeds.

    More dangerously, Duckman and his strange vehicle began to close in on the locomotive. The birdlike driver opened his window to reveal a grenade in his hand, his throw aiming for Orient¡¯s wheels.

    Yuan turned around and fired a Recoil Blast at Duckman. For all of his ridiculous behavior and appearance, the man proved to be a skilled driver. His car swerved left at the last second to dodge the shot. The attack at least threw Duckman off his aim and his grenade ended up exploding on empty sand.

    Meanwhile, Bucket¡¯s artillery cannon successfully managed to hit one of the Metallist plane¡¯s wings before it could gain too much altitude. The resulting explosion proved bigger and larger than what Yuan would have expected from non-qi projectiles, until he noticed sutras carved into their surface. Holster must have spent the last few days inscribing them into their artillery shells.

    Whatever their effect, they pierced through the plane¡¯s protections and threw it off course. The vehicle lost control of its trajectory until it deviated too far right off the road. It soon crashed against the Yinyang Khan¡¯s invisible Barrier and shattered into a thousand burning pieces.

    ¡°I shot it down, sir!¡± Bucket boasted. ¡°Their blasphemous wings bowed to the eternal rails!¡±

    Yuan didn¡¯t have time to congratulate him. Duckman had violently opened his vehicle¡¯s door and was preparing to jump onto the locomotive. His car continued to drive by itself, likely by the will of a spirit inhabiting it.

    ¡°Duckman comes for you, gunman!¡± the birdman threatened. The cultivator¡¯s chest puffed up as if air built up within his lungs. ¡°Fois Gras!¡±

    Yuan answered his threat with a Recoil Blast. His supernatural aim guided him well, but Duckman¡¯s body surged with a thick coat of water that propelled him forward. While the impact of Yuan¡¯s technique sent ripples spreading through that liquid protection, it failed to dispel it completely. S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Yuan backflipped as Duckman landed onto the locomotive¡¯s roof into a splashing crash. He immediately charged at Yuan the moment he set foot on the train, his feathers coated with water qi through .

    Yuan retaliated with a few well-placed qi-shots whose aim he enhanced with mudras. ¡°Archer¡¯s Glory.¡±

    Burning and wooden bullets surged from his revolver with supernatural accuracy. Duckman answered his challenge by swirling in midair and swaying his hips in a series of graceful steps. Yuan¡¯s projectiles slid off his slick feathers and continued their course in the background while the birdman caught up to him.

    Forced to engage his enemy in close-combat and requiring too much time to reload with Item Materialization, Yuan holstered his revolver to free both of his hands. Fists clashed against fists atop the wagon.

    Yuan¡¯s punches packed enough power to damage a trashemoth, yet Duckman¡¯s sweaty palms absorbed the shocks well enough.

    Duckman¡¯s speed and strength took Yuan by surprise. The birdman¡¯s fighting style reminded him of an aggressive dance that involved graceful acrobatics and wide kicks. The water coating his hands and feet formed sharp blades of liquid increasing his reach. His agility rivaled Gayak, and perhaps even it. Duckman would have shredded most cultivators in seconds.

    But Yuan?

    Yuan Guang hardly struggled.

    His iron body had grown even more flexible after crossing the Fourth Coil, and his enhanced senses let him anticipate the trajectory of his enemy¡¯s blows easily enough. He predicted how his foe¡¯s joints would move before he could even start a dancing motion.

    Inflicting lasting damage proved far more difficult. Yuan¡¯s Recoil-powered punches hardly phased Duckman. His shockwaves¡¯ energy dispersed into nothing. His qi sight sensed his enemy¡¯s core deep within his chest, but something soft and moist beneath the ribs shielded it from harm.

    Yuan realized after analyzing the feedback he received from repeated impacts.

    Namely, it only protected the chest.

    Yuan dodged a punch, bent and flipped by using his hands to support his weight, then hit Duckman¡¯s head from below with a Recoil Kick. He heard a crack in the birdman¡¯s beak the moment his foot connected with it. The blow propelled Duckman backward towards the wagon edge, though he managed to land on his feet nonetheless.

    ¡°Fool!¡± Duckman shouted in defiance, his fist raised upward to challenge the heavens. ¡°A true duck does not need to use his hea¨C¡±

    The roof beneath his feet suddenly bent into a slippery slope.

    Duckman hardly had a moment to realize the danger before he lost his balance and tripped. He fell down onto the ground below at maximum velocity, his body bouncing off into the distance as the spirit-train quickly outpaced him.

    ¡°Good job,¡± Yuan complimented Orient after regaining his footing.

    ¡°Thank you kindly,¡± his friend replied with no small amount of glee. Altering her structure came naturally to her.

    Meanwhile, the ghost-ship switched its focus on firing at the centidead vehicle further up ahead while continuing to fly across the landscape. They swiftly approached the first of the History Road landmarks, that strange metal pylon which Orient called the ¡®Eiffel Tower¡¯. The centidead monster crawled beneath its four steel feet, while the ghost-ship went around the landmark in an attempt to better ambush its enemy once it emerged on the other side.

    A mighty surge of qi erupted from the pylon tower. Energy built up from the leylines and reached upward to the antenna on its summit, turning it into a shining beacon of light.

    The tower let out a thundering boom and then rained fire.

 Chapter 64: Landmarks of the Apocalypse

    A qi-powered beam of crimson light blazed from the Eiffel Tower and hit the ghost ship.The ray pierced the floating vessel from one side and burst out from the other, ripping a hole in its skeletal structure. The ship wailed like a living being suffering a terrible wound, as did its ghostly crew. Its rotting sails evaporated in an instant and it swiftly began to lose altitude. Yuan watched it crash into the wasteland with a whimper.

    The tower continued to glow as the spirit-train sped between its four legs. Yuan and the rest of the crew tensed up in anticipation. The sheer concentration of qi in the air produced crackling bolts of lightning surging between the metal trusses above their heads. Everyone held their breath when the spirit-train emerged out the other side of the structure in fear of suffering the same fate as the ghost ship.

    The tower stopped glowing.

    No giant laser wiped out the spirit-train from the race, much to Yuan¡¯s relief.

    ¡°It appears we must pass the landmarks or suffer a penalty, Honored Conductor Yuan,¡± Orient¡¯s voice warned him. ¡°Not simply be near them.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Yuan conceded, though a detail bothered him. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t that ship¡¯s crew have known that? It¡¯s not the race¡¯s first year.¡±

    ¡°I suspect that the Khan changes the rules as it suits him.¡±

    Yuan¡¯s jaw clenched in frustration. He wouldn¡¯t put it past the Yinyang Khan to play fast and loose with his competition¡¯s rules in order to maximize carnage and chaos. It also disgusted him to know that the Hitobashira children buried beneath the landmark¡¯s foundation probably powered its security system. Their souls deserved better than to fuel a glorified booby trap.

    ¡°Are you hurt?¡± Yuan asked Orient.

    ¡°I will be fine, thank you kindly,¡± her voice reassured him. ¡°However, I fear that we are lagging behind the competition.¡±

    Yuan clenched his teeth. A quick glance at the highway ahead confirmed Orient¡¯s worries. While they passed by the wreckage of destroyed vehicles and explosions rocked the History Road further up ahead, Orient was too slow to catch up with the faster vehicles. Some racers were already halfway to the enormous pyramid of stone that served as the second landmark.

    Yuan considered their options and settled on a plan. The back of the tail had been almost entirely wiped out at this point in the race, and the spirit-train¡¯s passengers easily kept the few straggling cars at bay with the guns and artillery. Orient could protect them from weak cultivators well enough.

    The crew could survive without him for now.

    ¡°I¡¯ll fly up ahead and slow them down!¡± Yuan shouted as he ran towards the locomotive¡¯s edge. ¡°Hold on until you catch up to me!¡±

    The spirit-train let out a whistling noise in response, which he took for encouragement.

    Yuan leaped off the spirit-train and then activated the Recoil Shockwave to propel himself in the air. This method of flight cost him much more qi than creating Barriers on which to stand, but it let him achieve supersonic speeds easily enough. He quickly outpaced Orient and raced across the highway one giant leap at a time. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The second stretch of the History Road highway looked far more impressive than the first. Instead of being invisible, the Yinyang Khan¡¯s Barrier bordering it took the shape of immense rings of fire stretching from the Eiffel Tower to the stone pyramid¡¯s base. The competition was also fierce there. The Flesh Mansion centidead monster from earlier lay by the side of the road amidst the wreckages of other vehicles, its charbroiled flesh burning with blue flames reeking of cocaine, and its head turned into a bloody crater on the pavement.

    The likely culprit fought Mel and Hardy further up ahead.

    The brothers had caught up to Chemzard¡¯s dekotora truck and flanked it from both sides, though they might have wished otherwise. The larger vehicle rammed Mel¡¯s smaller car from the right and pushed it against the Yinyang Khan¡¯s Barrier in an attempt to crush it between the rings of fire and itself. The four-oni strong music band playing atop the vehicle¡¯s stage forced Hardy back with their strange performance. The drummer caused sharp rock spikes to rise from the ground each time he beat his instrument; the bass and guitarist unleashed qi-enhanced sound shockwaves whenever they pinched their strings; while the keyboardist supported them with a mantra melody. The constant barrage of attacks kept Hardy at a distance and prevented him from assisting his sibling.

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    Chemzard would probably damage Mel¡¯s car beyond repair if this kept up, so Yuan decided to intervene. He grabbed his revolver, reloaded it with Item Materialization, and then fired qi-powered elemental projectiles at the truck¡¯s wheels.

    His shots hit Chemzard¡¯s vehicle with enough force to annihilate a small fortress, yet hardly shook it. Sutras woven onto the vehicle¡¯s surface glowed at the moment of the impact and summoned qi-projected armor that protected it from destruction. Still, the repeated shocks alleviated the pressure on Mel enough for him to slip away. Yuan saw the man raise a thankful thumbs up at him.

    The oni crew on the stage began to target all three of their assailants and forced them to spread out. Yuan used Recoil Kicks to zigzag left and right to avoid shockwaves, while Mel and Hardy attempted to speed past Chemzard after dodging stone spike obstacles. They managed to reach the rear fenders when a blaze of searing blue flames erupted from the truck¡¯s radiator, forcing them to retreat to avoid being immolated.

    Sensing his chance, Yuan fired a Recoil Blast below the truck. Since the sutras woven into its metal frame lessened the impact of attack, perhaps damaging the road would overturn it.

    A Barrier expanding from the spirit-truck dashed his hopes. His technique and its resulting shockwave hardly shook the vehicle.

    Since Chemzard¡¯s band wouldn¡¯t let anyone outpace them, it trapped everyone in a deadlock. Worse, Coyote continued to secure his lead and had already reached the stone pyramid. Each second lost pushed them further away from victory.

    Mel raised his fist and made hand-signs at Yuan. Yuan translated easily enough.

    Trust didn¡¯t come easily enough in the Unmade World, but Yuan¡¯s gut told him the brothers would stay true to their vow. He thus decided to follow their plan and quickly caught up to the truck with a Recoil Shockwave. Coating himself in a Black Haze to prevent the oni band from intercepting him mid-flight, he managed to land on the stage in a gunshot crash.

    The oni bassist immediately unleashed a sound shockwave at him with a furious swing. Yuan increased his durability with his Elemental Infusion and covered his head with his arms to better shield his bullet-core. The blow pushed him back a few feet towards the stage¡¯s edge, but hardly scratched him. He quickly drew his revolver before the encore and shot the musician dead between the eyes.

    Taking out a member of the band forced the rest of them to gang-up on him. The oni drummer and guitarist interrupted their melody to charge at Yuan while the keyboardist played his instrument with renewed fury. A cloud of multicolored smoke arose from the stage, smelling of herbs and burnt coffee.

    Yuan immediately sensed a small fluctuation in his qi the moment he accidentally inhaled the flames. While his Fourth Coil body should have been immune to most poisons, he wisely held his breath and engaged the remaining oni in close combat. The guitarist swung his instrument at his head like a club and ended up thrown overboard by a well-placed Recoil Fist for his trouble.

    The drummer coated his body with stone through Elemental Infusion, raised his palms, then brought them down on Yuan in a failed attempt to squash him. The oni keyboardist quickly adjusted his synthesizer¡¯s melody at the same time, which caused the mirror ball decorations on the side of the stage to fire beams of light at Yuan.

    Unwilling to take a beam head on in case it could pierce through his Elemental Infusion, Yuan dodged them all in a blindingly-fast dance of leaps and jumps. He quickly found a good angle of attack midjump and shot the keyboardist with an earth-infused bullet. The drummer shielded his ally with his shoulder and took the hit for him.

    , Yuan thought as the mirror balls intensified their assault to the tune of the keyboardist¡¯s frantic music. A veritable bombardment of lasers forced him to run circles around the stage to avoid them.

    Yuan decided on a feint. He ran towards the keyboardist by zigzagging between lasers and then fired a wood bullet at the keyboardist. The oni drummer once again intercepted the projectile, likely expecting the same result as last time. This proved to be a foolish decision. Roots burst out of the bullet and swiftly constrained his arms.

    Exploiting his enemy¡¯s sudden lack of mobility, Yuan rushed at the confused drummer. The keyboardist frantically directed the lasers to intercept him by altering his melody, but his fingers couldn¡¯t type faster than a Fourth Coil cultivator could move.

    Yuan punched the oni drummer in the chest before he could break free of the roots. His metal hand punctured through the oni¡¯s mineral armor and smashed his heart to mush.

    The mirror balls fired at him from both directions. Undeterred, Yuan quickly grabbed the dead drummer¡¯s corpse and used him as an improvised shield. The lasers failed to get past his stone-skin, which allowed the Gunsoul to close the gap between himself and the last musician without any trouble.

    Yuan swiftly smashed the last oni¡¯s skull into his own synthesizer before throwing him and the drummer off the vehicle.

    Only the driver remained.

    With all the musicians dead or neutralized, Yuan punched the stage in an attempt to get to Chemzard. He had hoped that incapacitating the band would neutralize the sutras protecting the vehicle; it didn¡¯t.

    Yuan spared a glance at Mel and Hardy. The two raced closely behind the truck, with Orient following in the distance. Mel had shaped a fireball in his hand, which Yuan expected him to throw at Chemzard¡¯s vehicle.

    He instead tossed it at his brother.

    Utterly mesmerized, Yuan watched on as Hardy punched the fireball back at his twin. The two siblings began to engage in a strange and fast-paced ball game. Their projectile continued to move back and forth between them.

    Growing faster.

    Growing .

 Chapter 65: Drug Wizard

    The brothers¡¯ fireball would soon reach critical mass.It had already accumulated enough qi to become a bright star illuminating the road. It was only a matter of time before its speed and size became unmanageable to the siblings. Yuan had no idea if their Dyad-powered projectile would successfully break through Chemzard¡¯s sutra protections, and he was in no hurry to find out.

    Yuan took a step toward the stage¡¯s edge when he felt an overwhelming urge to vomit.

    He hadn¡¯t eaten in days, since his Fourth Coil body sustained itself on qi. His intestines had long transformed into twisted barrels designed to improve his cycling rather than process food. Yet his stomach suddenly ached and growled with enough pain to force Yuan to hold his chest.

    Yuan saw the world shift around himself. The rings of fire encircling the History Road now shone with many colors, and the stone pyramid in the distance looked like a blob of chocolate. Yuan staggered on a stage of skin screaming with loudspeaker mouths. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Yuan turned his focus inward and began to cycle his qi. He immediately detected a vile substance clodding his circuits and saddling his bullet-core with a cloudy veil. A drug had infiltrated his circulatory system.

    The vapors.

    Yuan had hardly inhaled them before he started holding his breath. Had a mere whiff of the drug been enough to infect him?

    Whatever the case, he had a solution. Yuan holstered his revolver and joined his hands together in the form of a mudra. ¡°Mahamayuri.¡±

    The mudra¡¯s power instantly cleared the illusions¡­ and revealed a person sneaking up on him from the left.

    A theatrical figure¡ªwhich Yuan assumed to be Chemzard herself¡ªhad emerged from a previously hidden trapdoor in the stage. They dressed in a sleek, form-fitting leather outfit that clung to their thin frame. A dark cloak fluttered behind their back in the hot wind battering History Road, and a wide-brimmed pointed hat sat atop their gas mask. Two eyes looked at Yuan from behind yellow goggles with amusement while their right hand held a gas sprayer weapon connected to their chest by intravenous tubes. It vaguely resembled an iron wand of some kind.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, gunslinger?¡± the figure said with a high-pitched woman¡¯s voice. ¡°Havin¡¯ a¡­¡± She marked a short pause, as if exceptionally proud of her next words. ¡°?¡±

    That terrible pun hurt Yuan almost as much as the following spray of acid did.

    A stream of pressurized green liquid sputtered out of Chemzard¡¯s wand and hit Yuan in the chest before his drug-slowed senses could react in time. The substance ate through his Elemental Infusion and iron flesh alike like how water dissolved sugar, burning his metal skin and exposing his ribs in an instant. Yuan barely had time to step out of the way before the substance could destroy his bones.

    ¡°That¡¯s for slaughterin'' my boys, you iron dickhead!¡± Chemzard threatened with a maniacal laugh, her finger pressing the spray¡¯s trigger with wild abandon. ¡°Shoot shoot!¡±

    Gritting his teeth, Yuan dodged a few shots and then used a Recoil Shockwave to close the gap between them in the blink of an eye. He undid his mudra and raised his fists to punch her head off her shoulders.

    The world blurred into madness the moment he freed his hands.

    Chemzard vanished from his sight while the sky sang and clouds of gold swirled around Yuan. He sensed the drug take hold of him again, forcing him to revert back to using the mudra to clear the illusions. By then, his enemy was gone.

    ¡°That¡¯s the thing with Moonlight Ayahuasca!¡± Chemzard mocked him from behind. ¡°It speaks to the soul, not the nose!¡±

    The truth hit Yuan like a bullet to the face, followed by a spray of acid to the back. A sharp surge of pain coursed through Yuan¡¯s body as the liquid exposed his metallic spine and trigger-muscles.

    The drug vapors didn¡¯t need to be inhaled to affect their victim. Simply being in their presence was enough for them to disrupt his qi circuit and blind his senses to Chemzard¡¯s presence.

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    Yuan had to give it to her, very few people would have the skill to create drugs and poisons capable of affecting other cultivators. She probably mimicked the Moonburns from the technique¡¯s name.

    Keeping his hands locked into the Mahamayuri mudra, Yuan retaliated with a lightning-fast series of Recoil Kicks. A mix of what appeared to be cocaine and sugar coursed through Chemzard¡¯s intravenous tubes as she began to dodge the attacks. Her body moved and twitched at a frenetic pace, the two duelists engaging in a lethal dance across the stage. The duel reminded Yuan of his earlier fight with Duckman, albeit the roles reversed: Yuan was now the one struggling to hit an elusive adversary.

    Yuan knew a well-placed Gatling Fist would do the job, but that would require freeing his hands and opening him to the drugs. He was also loath to use Gun Demon Incarnation so early in the race.

    Unfortunately, Chemzard saw through his plan easily enough and bombarded Yuan with pressurized acid sprays to force him back. The roles quickly reverse, with Yuan being forced to run around to avoid a wild and unpredictable series of projectiles.

    ¡°Oye, been partying in the moonligh¡¯, haven¡¯t you?!¡± Chemzard taunted him. ¡°That mudra won¡¯t save you from my cookin¡¯ forever, mate!¡±

    No, it wouldn¡¯t. The Mahamayuri Mudra cleansed the body of poison, but it required both hands to use and the vapors only took seconds to affect him. Yuan needed his hands free to fight at his full potential, leaving him in a deadlock.

    However, he didn¡¯t have to fight Chemzard at all.

    Mel and Hardy¡¯s fireball had now grown bigger than their own vehicles, and was moving so quickly now that they struggled to keep it going between them without being incinerated by their own projectile. The sphere shone brighter than the sun.

    ¡°Get off the truck!¡± Mel shouted at Yuan in the split second between each pass with his brother. ¡°Now!¡±

    Abandoning the fight with Chemzard, Yuan leaped from the stage¡­ only for an invisible force to yank him back to it the moment he stepped over the edge. He sensed unseen ropes coil around his feet and heart dragging him closer to the stage¡¯s center. No amount of strength or force allowed him to escape this strange gravitational pull.

    ¡°Uh, uh, uh!¡± Chemzard said, her wand stomping the stage as if it were a giant drum. ¡°No runnin'' away from my Malignant Chains of Addiction, my little human shield!¡±

    She intended to keep him onboard as insurance against the twin brothers¡¯ attack. Yuan was pretty sure the siblings would eventually be forced to drop their projectile at one point or another, but to their credit, they continued bouncing it between each other rather than betray their ally.

    A quacking noise echoed in the distance.

    Yuan watched Orient chugging after them at full speed, only for a smaller yellow vehicle to furiously outpace her. Neither gunshots nor artillery projectiles managed to slow it down. The driver at its helm savagely smashed his vehicle horn to announce his presence.

    Duckman.

    His face was covered in dirt from hitting the pavement earlier and his eyes were a bloodshot shade of red, but he remained alive and quacking. He drove past the racer siblings¡ªmiraculously avoiding the fireball while at it¡ªand then angrily rammed the back of the truck. Chemzard¡¯s head snapped in this new challenger¡¯s direction.

    A split second which Yuan immediately exploited.

    Realizing he would have to temporarily repel the vapors overtaking the stage, he unleashed a mighty Recoil Shockwave from every qi pressure point in his body. A blast of air briefly repelled the fumes and Chemzard to the edges of the stage; a situation that would hardly last more than an instant, but it proved to be long enough.

    Yuan closed in on Chemzard and activated the Gatling Fist. His hands moved at such a great speed he felt his knuckles burn from the air friction. A coat of smoke created by Black Haze obscured their trajectory.

    Chemzard managed to dodge the first few, but it only took one hit to the face for her to lose her balance. Yuan¡¯s first blow shattered her goggles and bent her mask, the second cracked her ribs, and the hundreds that followed broke every single bone in her body. Cocaine, sugar, heroin, and plenty of other chemicals Yuan didn¡¯t recognize dripped from her clothes.

    The mangled Chemzard was thrown off the truck and landed on Duckman¡¯s windshield, cracking it. The weight keeping Yuan chained to the stage immediately vanished.

    ¡°You thought you could get rid of Duckman?!¡± Duckman shouted angrily as he angrily rammed his car into Chemzard¡¯s truck once more. ¡°Duckman is foreve¨C¡±

    Yuan ignored him and leaped off the truck.

    Mel tossed his fireball at the vehicle a second later.

    The cataclysmic explosion that followed the impact threw Yuan dozens of yards forward. The sutras protecting Chemzard¡¯s vehicle dispelled in a blast of fire and debris that engulfed Duckman¡¯s car. By the time Yuan recovered enough to fly ahead with repeated Recoil Kicks, only smoke remained of the two vehicles.

    ¡°Well done!¡± Hardy congratulated Yuan as he and his brother drove by his side. ¡°T¡¯was a stellar fight!¡±

    ¡°Good shot too,¡± Yuan complimented them back. ¡°You could have dropped it earlier.¡±

    ¡°You saved my hide beforehand, it¡¯s only natural we returned the favor,¡± Mel countered. He pointed a finger at a tunnel located at the stone pyramid landmark¡¯s base. Coyote had already vanished inside it. ¡°We¡¯ve got to catch up to that asshole before the gap becomes too wide for us to cover!¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s show him our top speed, bro!¡± Hardy replied, his vehicle suddenly cackling with power. ¡°Can you keep up, Yuan?!¡±

    Yuan responded with a bold smile and three words.

    ¡°Gun Demon Incarnation!¡±

 Chapter 66: Interruption

    Yuan shed his skin.His first Gun Demon Incarnation transformation took days of cycling to complete; his second finished in seconds. His arms and head turned into weapons and the thrusters on his back propelled him forward with greater velocity than ever before. He outpaced the racer brothers in a mighty sonic boom that blew dust and ashes in all directions

    The world around him became a blur, an ever shifting mirage. His vision focused until he could only perceive the point ahead of him. Nothing existed beyond that tunnel; nothing that he could see.

    Yuan¡¯s Gun Demon Incarnation let him reach such speed that his skin burned from the intense friction. He had transcended the world of supersonic speeds and entered the realm of the hypersonic. His body crossed kilometers worth of distance in mere seconds. His enhanced senses struggled to keep up with his own velocity.

    And it felt good! even!

    Yuan reached the pyramid in an instant while blowing a whirlwind of dust in his wake. He entered a dark tunnel dug into the landmark¡¯s stones like a bullet flying through a barrel. Dimensions appeared to twist and stretch within the landmark. Yuan saw swinging blades hanging from the ceiling and arrows thrown from holes in the walls. Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Did the Khan hope to stop him with such paltry traps? Yuan didn¡¯t even bother dodging them. He simply charged forward and fired at will with his minigun arm. An endless flow of bullets erupted from his weapon. As he had suspected when fighting Gatling Man, the weapon generated its own projectiles when wielded by a Gunsoul.

    None of Yuan¡¯s bullets packed qi, but they didn¡¯t need to. He fired so many of them at such high velocity that each of them hit with the strength of missiles. They pulverized the pyramid¡¯s traps in short order, clearing the path.

    A red flash appeared at the end of the tunnel.

    All of Yuan¡¯s honed survival instincts flared up all at once. Time seemed to slow down to an abrupt halt as he saw two crimson eyes glaring at him with murderous malice. Yuan barely had time to move to the right with a Recoil Shockwave to avoid a fatal crash.

    The crossing happened at such blinding speed that Yuan hardly saw anything. He sensed something brush uncomfortably close to the left side of his body, the sheer friction in the air flensing metal skin off his muscles and nearly ripping out his minigun arm from his shoulders. His attacker turned to pursue him in an instant by running so fast that they defied gravity and ascended up the tunnel¡¯s walls. Yuan caught a glimpse of a doglike hood and a man running on foot faster than the naked Scrap eye could follow.

    Coyote.

    ¡°I¡¯m impressed!¡± Yuan should be flying too fast for Coyote¡¯s words to catch up, yet they rode a wave of qi to reach him. The Speed Path cultivator ran up to Yuan¡¯s side with casual ease. From the way he moved, reaching hypersonic speeds felt like a jog to him. ¡°I might have to go mach six on your ass!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve turned back?!¡± Yuan asked in shock. It didn¡¯t make sense. Coyote had been so far ahead in the race, so why would he turn around and fight competitors instead of leaving them in the dust?

    ¡°If I hadn''t, I would win without killing anyone!¡± Coyote¡¯s body cackled with crimson lightning. His eyes rippled with thunderbolts the color of blood. ¡°And where¡¯s the in that?!¡±

    Yuan choked in burning hatred at the cruel, vicious cultivator. By the time he raised his minigun to blast him back to the hell which he crawled out from, Coyote had already swerved in an attempt to tackle him.

    Yuan abruptly reduced his speed like a driver hitting the brakes. This spared him a crash as Coyote narrowly missed him, but one bolt of crimson lightning hit Yuan in the shoulder. The projectile melted part of his flesh deeply enough to inflict pain, even after most of the electricity failed to spread to the rest of his body. It seemed that the infernal metal making up most of Yuan¡¯s body didn¡¯t conduct electricity.

    Yuan retaliated with both his arms, firing an endless stream of bullets from his left and flames from his right. Coyote waved his hands so fast that they whipped up a shield of whirling wind that swiftly dispersed both the fire and projectiles.

    ¡°Plus, Slash kinda paid me top money to put you back into the ground where you belong!¡± Coyote admitted. So great was his moxie that he began to run backward to face Yuan and better taunt him. ¡°You can only blame your smartass mouth!¡±

    Yuan scoffed in disdain. ¡°He couldn¡¯t do the job himself?!¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t complain!¡± Coyote replied with wicked laughter. His hands swirled like dynamos. ¡°You know what they say: ¡®always get paid for what you¡¯re willing to do for free!¡¯¡±

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    He vanished in a blur of speed.

    Yuan panicked upon losing sight of his foe. He barely had time to blink before he sensed a hand grab him by the back of the head and then violently slam it against the nearest wall, causing intense pain to course through Yuan¡¯s skull.

    ¡°You¡¯re pretty fast, I¡¯ll give you that!¡± Coyote complimented him, although there was a mocking edge to his voice. He kept Yuan¡¯s head pressed against the pyramid¡¯s enchanted stone as they ran through the entire length of the tunnel, grinding him against it the whole way. ¡°But your technique doesn¡¯t let your reflexes keep up with your speed! You can only see one way!¡±

    Yuan responded with a snarl of rage and a burst of Black Haze. The gunsmoke produced by his Gun Demon Incarnation body ignited the moment it seeped out of his body. A cloud of fire filled the tunnel and drew a snarl of rage from Coyote upon burning off his hand. The Speed Path cultivator let Yuan go before quickly outrunning the flames.

    Yuan heard the racer siblings catching up to them from behind. He sensed their cores burning like twin furnaces in perfect synchronization, fueling each other in a feedback loop of qi. A chain of energy bound their cars together; one so sharp that it split everything it touched in two, from falling blade traps to the very air.

    Realizing he would be bisected if they caught up to him, Coyote stopped playing with Yuan and sped up until he outpaced everyone. Yuan and the siblings chased after him and soon emerged from the tunnel at lightning speeds.

    Then a bird dive-bombed Yuan from above.

    The ambusher moved at a fraction of Coyote¡¯s speed, so Yuan had no issues roasting him with his right hand. The attacker lost a few feathers and bounced off the road. Yuan groaned upon recognizing his foe.

    ¡°You ?!¡± Yuan snarled in annoyance. Did that stubborn bird never give up? How did he even manage to get ahead so quickly and avoid the Khan¡¯s traps?

    ¡°You¡¯ve dodged Duckman¡¯s Peking Press for the last time!¡± Duckman replied as he chased after Yuan. He looked like a roasted bird from all the damage he had accumulated so far, yet somehow managed to fly anyway. ¡°Duckman will get you!¡±

    Yuan wondered how he could catch up to them before guessing the obvious solution: Duckman simply flew above the pyramid where the tunnel didn¡¯t distort and lengthen space. Staying outside let him cover much less distance.

    The racers flew, ran, and drove across a new stretch of the road; one flanked by bright technicolored neon lights. Coyote remained firmly in the lead, followed by Yuan, a struggling Duckman, and the twins.

    ¡°Your car was destroyed!¡± Yuan shouted at Duckman. ¡°You¡¯ve already lost!¡±

    ¡°Duckman¡­ does not¡­ quit!¡± the birdman responded with pride. He flapped his wings so fast to keep pace with the other contestants that he was starting to lose his breath over it. ¡°He¡­ he quacks!¡±

    ¡°And he¡¯s gonna croak soon!¡± Coyote mocked him, his finger pointed at the pyramid¡¯s tip. Its bricks had begun to glow with a phenomenal concentration of qi. ¡°Penalty time!¡±

    The pyramid shook and fired a mighty beam of light from its tip to smite Duckman for violating the game¡¯s rules. The birdman himself peeked over his shoulder anxiously in anticipation.

    The laser instead aimed straight at Coyote.

    Taken aback like everyone else, Coyote immediately sped up at immense velocity. He moved so fast that his body left afterimages behind with each step. But even Coyote couldn¡¯t entirely outrun light itself, so he had to zigzag back and forth across the History Road in a vain attempt to lose the beam as the laser carved a trail of devastation across the highway.

    Yuan and Duckman were both so shocked by this turn of events that they slightly slowed down. This allowed the twins to catch up to the latter racer and hit him in the back with their energy chain. It neatly sliced through Duckman¡¯s torso and split him in half, both parts of him crashing onto the road and rolling onto the dirt.

    Yuan thought. He half-expected the pyramid to zap Duckman too, but the trap surprisingly deactivated itself.

    Far too convenient.

    The answer to this mystery announced her presence with a whistle. Orient drove out of the pyramid with a loud fanfare and chased after the racers with all of her strength.

    Yuan quickly guessed what happened. He had no idea how they achieved it, but Holster and Orient managed to switch the pyramid beam¡¯s target from Duckman to Coyote after the former triggered it. Perhaps Holster¡¯s Hitobashira status gave her an empathic connection to the landmarks, since other Human Pillars fueled them, or Orient manipulated the artificial leyline the same way she used natural ones to produce phantom tracks to flag Coyote as the lawbreaker.

    Whatever the case, their ingenious display of qi manipulation eventually ran its course. The pyramid¡¯s laser died out from lack of energy to fuel it¡ªthe Khan had likely installed a safety feature to ensure the other landmarks would have enough juice to power themselves¡ªand allowed Coyote to retaliate. He ran backward across the road, throwing stones and pebbles he grabbed off the ground at his pursuers with enough velocity to rival bullets. Yuan, Mel, and Hardy moved around to dodge the projectiles while Orient simply shrugged them off.

    Then a green light suddenly swallowed Battletown whole.

    It happened so quietly that none of the racers noticed it until an invisible ripple spread through the History Road. The entire artificial leyline shuddered as a massive, skull-shaped cloud of radioactive dust engulfed its start and endpoint. There was no shockwave like the nuclear explosion that heralded the race¡¯s beginning, no overwhelming display of widespread devastation; only the eerie coldness of a frighteningly precise tactical strike.

    Everyone abruptly stopped as neon and fire rings alike flickered out of existence. Braking wheels blew dust in all directions, Coyote slowed down in surprise, and Yuan¡¯s legs hit the ground with such strength that the ground trembled beneath him. He had spent enough time hanging around Arc to recognize the use of an .

    The foul nuclear qi that fueled it was awfully familiar too.

    A shiver of dread coursed through him while his bullet-core pounded in his skull to remind him of his Unspeakable Vow.

    Manhattan had finally made his move.

 Chapter 67: The Manhattan Project

    The racers gathered to watch the devastation in fearful silence.Mel and Hardy had stepped out of their vehicles, while Holster, Bucket, and a few other of Orient¡¯s passengers climbed down from the spirit-train. Yuan canceled Gun Demon Incarnation to avoid wasting his qi. The thought of them turning on each other hardly crossed anyone¡¯s mind, even Coyote¡¯s. There was nothing left to fight over besides a nuclear cloud roaming over the ruins.

    Was Slash even alive? The thought of taking revenge on that crook paled in Yuan¡¯s mind compared to the danger Manhattan represented.

    ¡°What the¡­¡± Hardy gulped in shock. ¡°Did he¡­ did the Khan blow up his own city?¡±

    ¡°Did he lose control of his power?¡± Mel asked Yuan, recalling their previous conversation. ¡°That¡¯s what you were worried about, wasn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Yuan replied with a scowl. The skull cloud had begun to dissipate to reveal a massive crater spewing a massive amount of smoke where Battletown used to stand. Part of him hoped the likes of Jared LaChair survived the disaster, but he wasn¡¯t keeping his hopes up. ¡°That¡¯s a nuclear cultivator¡¯s Authority.¡±

    The siblings stared at him in utter disbelief. As for Coyote, he suddenly vanished in a blur of speed without a word and ran straight at the city. Did he intend to loot the ruins, or did he mayhaps have a loved one he intended to check upon? Whatever the case, Yuan knew deep within his bones that he would only find death.

    A sharp surge of qi erupted behind Yuan. He and the twin racers turned to find Arc stepping out of the train, a Barrier restraining her Authority within a meter of herself.

    ¡°Yuan,¡± she said.

    Yuan tensed up. Arc used his name.

    ¡°I¡¯m releasing you from the Unspeakable Vow,¡± she declared. ¡°You are free to do as you wish. I shall no longer impose a condition upon you, nor ask that you confront Manhattan on my behalf.¡±

    Yuan immediately felt a small, invisible weight constraining his bullet-core being lifted. Arc had severed his side of the pact from her own accord.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°¨C¡± Arc pointed at the atomic cloud with her chin. ¡°Is Czar Zoa¡¯s Authority, Fukushima Paradise. The gift of death from the Nuclear Buddha himself.¡±

    Yuan¡¯s bullet-core pounded in his skull. He could read between the lines: an Authority was unique to its user, and there was no way to copy it.

    ¡°Manhattan is not Czar Zoa¡¯s student,¡± he whispered under his breath. ¡°He Czar Zoa.¡±

    It said a lot about that nuclear cultivator¡¯s reputation that the likes of Mel and Hardy paled in horror and disbelief. Even the usually bombastic Bucket had grown deathly quiet.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how he survived our last clash, but I¡¯ll make sure I bury him for good this time.¡± Arc pulled back her cloak to reveal her rifle-arm and aimed it at the city. ¡°You and the others stay back.¡±

    ¡°No way,¡± Yuan replied. He refused to stand on the sidelines. ¡°I didn¡¯t come so far just to watch.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± Mel said. ¡°With all due respect, Lady, this guy sounds like problem.¡±

    ¡°Either you watch, or you¡¯ll die,¡± Arc replied bluntly. ¡°Czar Zoa is as far beyond you as you are beyond bucket-face over there. You won¡¯t last five minutes against him, even with Gun Demon Incarnation.¡±

    ¡°You were at your best back when you first fought him,¡± Yuan countered. He could see the writing on the wall. ¡°You aren¡¯t anymore.¡±

    The scowl spreading on Arc¡¯s face confirmed his fears. She knew she likely wouldn¡¯t walk away from this battle alive. ¡°Can¡¯t let him get away with the Nuke, Yuan. It¡¯ll be a global cataclysm.¡±

    Even so, Yuan refused to stand idle. He hadn¡¯t worked so hard and for so long to simply wait things out.

    Holster approached Yuan and then tugged at his arm. She pointed a finger at the History Road¡¯s landmarks, then at the ruins of Battletown.

    Arc¡¯s head tilted to the side, her mind considering something. ¡°Actually¡­¡± she muttered under her breath. ¡°There¡¯s one thing you guys can do.¡±

    He could hear the armageddon song in his head.

    The Apocalypse Man walked among the irradiated ruins of the Yinyang Khan¡¯s palace, his feet calmly stepping on broken steel while following the Nuke¡¯s loving call. His radiating light had brought down the city of sin like the God of the Bible once smote Sodom and Gomorrah. A vast grave of burning concrete and molten steel surrounded him as far as the eye could see. Burning corpses smoldered beneath the ruins, with the few cultivators strong enough to survive his Authority moaning in agony from the radioactive burns and blisters consuming their bodies.

    Although he desired nothing more than to spare these poor souls any further pain, the Apocalypse Man ignored them all. He followed the call of his creator which had echoed in his skull since he first awoke in a Siberian nuclear test site half a century ago, the ghost of a corpse who couldn¡¯t remember his own name. The Russians had called him Czar Zoa, after the Tsar Bomba, and the Americans named him Manhattan, but neither could tether him. Names were mortal concepts meant to bind the spirit to a finite mortal existence. He was simply radiation, an emanation of the nuclear light of creation who had experienced death many times since then; some more severe than others.

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    The Gunsoul Yuan Guan had spun the wheel of karma in his way, as he suspected. Challenging the Khan¡¯s right-hand man caused the warlord to focus his and his soldiers¡¯ attention on their pointless competition over that of his own stronghold. The distraction had allowed the Apocalypse Man to sneak into the Pagoda after killing a few guards, and then triggering his Authority within its walls.

    The detonation should have taken out most of his potential opposition. By the time surviving racers returned to the ruined city, he would have already completed his holy work and brought forth the Great White Flash.

    However, he couldn¡¯t sense the Yinyang Khan¡¯s presence; something which bothered him. The Apocalypse Man was confident in his abilities, but the tales he had heard about the warlord made him wary of the man¡¯s power. A cultivator of his magnitude couldn¡¯t have perished so easily.

    The Apocalypse Man banished these thoughts from his mind as he ascended atop a pile of steel debris. His entire body brimmed with anticipation. His tumor core shuddered in his chest with gamma ray pulses. He tossed aside metal panels and the remains of an armored door to unveil the treasure beneath.

    The Khan¡¯s right-hand man, that so-called Slash, lay on the ground at the Apocalypse Man¡¯s feet. Fukushima Paradise¡¯s blast had covered his body in blisters and metal shrapnel. Though he still breathed, he had little time left.

    Within reach of his dirty hand lay the cube.

    The eyes on its face darted in the Apocalypse Man¡¯s direction with the insistence of a demigod yearning for freedom. And the son of the Nuke rejoiced, for universal salvation for all mortal souls was finally within his reach.

    ¡°The promised time has come, my lord,¡± the Apocalypse Man said, his hand reaching for the cube. ¡°Freedom at last¨C¡±

    He turned in an instant, his fingers closing on a man¡¯s throat.

    Their collision blew away radioactive dust and steel debris for many yards, but the Apocalypse Man hardly flinched. The bold cultivator who had so brazenly tried to steal the cube struggled within his grasp, his feet dangling into the void as the Apocalypse Man lifted him above the ground.

    ¡°A thief?¡± The Apocalypse Man examined his captive¡¯s hood more closely. ¡°A coyote. Always the pitiful scavenger.¡±

    The cultivator tried to free himself from the Apocalypse Man¡¯s grip with a series of blindingly quick, lightning-powered punches. The Apocalypse Man would assess their speed to be at mach eight, maybe nine.

    A decent speed.

    The Apocalypse Man easily parried them all with his free palm, the electricity dissipating the moment it made contact with the Barrier shielding his irradiated skin, then backhanded his captive with enough force to tear off half the thief¡¯s jaw.

    ¡°What a saddening existence you live, shackled by greed and bloodlust,¡± the Apocalypse Man commented with pity. He could never muster anger for cultivators wasting away their gifts; only condescending compassion. ¡°You will never become speed itself with those brakes slowing you down.¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± the man replied with a wide smirk, coughing blood. ¡°It was¡­ worth a shot.¡±

    No, it wasn¡¯t. He never stood a chance.

    The Apocalypse Man punched him through the chest and flooded his innards with plasma. The coyote cultivator¡¯s flesh melted off his bones in an instant. His skeleton soon turned into ashes and was blown away by the nuclear wind. A painless death was mercy in the Unmade World.

    A shiver of danger suddenly coursed through the Apocalypse Man¡¯s bones, his instincts flaring with the call of incoming danger.

    A bullet aimed at his brain at reentry speed.

    The Apocalypse Man¡¯s head tilted to the side in the split of a nanosecond. No projectile should be able to harm his Fifth Coil skin, but he had already tasted death once from one and didn¡¯t plan to take any chances.

    It flew past his head, then transformed into a woman with a cannon-arm pointed at him.

    The Apocalypse Man immediately summoned a Barrier to protect himself. He had replayed that fated duel in his head for nearly five years, and he failed to fully negate the impact. A Recoil Blast capable of blasting buildings apart hit his shield with such force he was thrown back a few meters.

    A familiar figure stood between him and the cube; one which the Apocalypse Man had grown to respect, even fear. She was a shadow of what she used to be; her broken Authority hardly contained within a Barrier meant to concentrate its power, but she had lost none of her menacing aura. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    She had murdered him once before after all.

    ¡°Bullet Teleportation?¡± The Apocalypse Man adopted a tense fighting stance. ¡°Impressive as ever, Arc.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve changed quite a bit, Zoa.¡± She sneered in disdain. ¡°Were you afraid that I would recognize you and hunt you down?¡±

    It did factor into his decision to lay low. She had already ruined his plans once, and vengeance was a doomed venture that kept souls from ascending to the Dao. If anything, the Apocalypse Man felt a sliver of respect for her. Dying at her hand had brought him closer to the light of creation and let him understand the true purpose of his Nuclear Chaos Path. He had wasted so much time destroying cities when he could have saved so many more souls in one great white flash.

    The Apocalypse Man would have been content to leave Arc to her own devices, but if she insisted on courting her own demise¡­ then he would oblige her.

    ¡°Death changed us both,¡± the Apocalypse Man replied calmly. ¡°You¡¯ve diminished since then.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m still strong enough to put you down.¡± Arc scoffed and pointed her rifle arm at his face. ¡°You¡¯re not getting that rubix cube, you toxic dump. Not now, not ."

    ¡°This won¡¯t end like last time,¡± the Apocalypse Man warned her as he extended his arms. Though fear had no place within him, she had already bested him once; he would not underestimate her again. ¡°Death has refined my spirit. I have become one with the .¡±

    It didn¡¯t impress his nemesis. A click resonated from inside Arc¡¯s rifle arm, like the sound of a safety going off.

    A mighty pulse of malevolent qi pushed both of them back.

    The Apocalypse Man briefly glanced at its source in surprise, as did Arc. The so-called Slash was back on his feet, albeit as a walking near-corpse.

    But something was with him. His body swelled with power, his muscles expanding, his blistering skin healing its wounds in an instant and adopting a pale and black color scheme.

    By the time the Apocalypse Man noticed his mask shifting into a face, two arms had started bursting out of the man¡¯s chest.

    ¡°All I wished was for the strong to obediently follow my lead and for the weak to fear my name¡­¡± Said the man called Slash, his voice reverberating with that of another demon dwelling deep within his soul. His very core transformed into another of far greater power, like a star eclipsed by the sun. ¡°Was too much to ask for?!¡±

    The Dyad Path could take many forms. Rivals on an endless warpath; brothers in arms; and in this case¡­ two splintered minds sharing one flesh.

    The Yinyang Khan emerged from his subordinate¡¯s body like a snake shedding its skin.

 Chapter 68: Wasteland Legends

    The three cultivators eyed each other, the radioactive wind blowing between them. Arc had long overcome her need for sight once she had crossed the Fifth Coil. Her eyes had turned to metal inside their sockets, but she had gained a truer kind of sight. Her mind saw everything in a three-hundred sixty degree radius around herself. It could penetrate most objects, walls, illusions, and barriers. Her range spanned miles when not paying attention, and hundreds of kilometers when she focused on a single point.

    Most importantly, Arc¡¯s Truesight allowed her to analyze the subtle shifts in ambient qi with peerless accuracy.

    Czar Zoa hid his core¡¯s location by flooding his flesh with radiation and hiding his qi behind a Barrier. While Arc could easily see past the latter, she would need to observe his techniques to overcome the former.

    The Yinyang Khan didn¡¯t bother hiding anything. His monstrous furnace of a core burned deep within his massive chest. It poured out malice like a volcano vomited lava, its darkness obscuring the smaller core of his weaker split personality. Whereas Czar Zoa exuded the cold and sterile lifelessness of a nuclear winter, the Yinyang Khan oozed savage violence through every pore of his skin.

    himself , Arc thought as she assessed her chances. Dyad cultivators were dangerous enough when their cores were split into two separate users; she had never heard of one with both cores conjoined within themselves. That should at a minimum double his qi reserves in a pinch.

    Both of Arc¡¯s opponents were equally terrible, though the Yinyang Khan¡¯s qi reserves surpassed both of his rivals since he hadn¡¯t used his Authority yet. This would give him a slight edge in their first engagement.

    ¡°I must say, nuclear trash, that you have done something that I once thought impossible,¡± the Yinyang Khan threatened Czar Zoa, his mouth seething with unyielding rage. His entire body brimmed with anger. ¡°You have managed to well and truly . This is quite the new feeling for me.¡±

    ¡°You speak these words as if they are meant to frighten me,¡± Czar Zoa replied calmly. The Nuclear Buddha had always been eerily calm, but it seemed his last clash with Arc had purged him of whatever human emotions he had left. ¡°A fool like you, who would use the Nuke to enslave this flawed world instead of saving it, is unworthy of my respect.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need your respect, only your head on a spike! And I shall have it!¡± The so-called Khan dismissed Arc with a wave of his hand. ¡°Go away, woman. Step away from my cube and I shall allow you to leave with your life. I may even allow you to serve me once I rebuild my capital.¡±

    ¡°Get bent, Yer Majesty,¡± Arc replied with disdain. The Yinyang Khan was hardly a better keeper for the Cube of Natho than Czar Zoa, especially after that stunt during the race¡¯s opening salvo. Letting him use the Nuke¡¯s power to enslave the Wasteland through the terror of atomic annihilation was hardly any better than letting nuclear cultivators pull the trigger.

    They were both assholes who needed to .

    ¡°Then I shall reward your boldness with a revelation,¡± the Khan replied, his eyes darting from Arc to Czar Zoa. He showed no fear at facing two of the Fanged Coast¡¯s strongest cultivators; only the delusional arrogance of a madman who thought himself invincible. ¡°I will show why I where others .¡±

    The three duelists eyed each other, the Cube of Natho lying between them, their bodies tense. Arc quickly analyzed the situation and decided on a course of action in an instant.

    Most of her battles were decided on the first strike, and she had never lost any.

    They all struck in the span of a nanosecond, without a word or warning. The three enemies moved at speeds that the eyes of Scraps couldn¡¯t follow and which most cultivators would fail to keep up with.

    Events unfolded almost as Arc anticipated. Czar Zoa, ever the pragmatist, teleported next to the Cube of Natho through his Quantum Leap technique. His body split into photons flung forward at lightspeed and then reassembled itself within reach of his prize.

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    The technique¡¯s flaw was that it only worked within the user¡¯s direct line of sight, which made it predictable. Czar Zoa had thus focused his attention on Arc in order to anticipate her counterstrike, since she knew about that weakness.

    She did no such thing, nor needed to. The Yinyang Khan did the job for her.

    As Arc suspected, he proved both eager to protect his hardwon treasure and take revenge on the man who destroyed his capital. Two of his hands joined in a mudra sequence; a third pointed at the Cube of Natho and trapped it in a circular Barrier keeping it out of Zoa¡¯s reach; and the last one snapped its fingers at the nuclear cultivator. A blade of sharpened wind hit Zoa in the chest with enough strength to slice a building apart, leaving a gash on his supernaturally-tough tumorous skin.

    Meanwhile, Arc raised both her arms. Using Sniper¡¯s Bore and Item Materialization, she fired a qi-powered bullet at the Barrier holding the cube. Her rifle arm fired a Recoil Blast of immense power at the Yinyang Khan at the same time.

    Arc was both confident in her power and acutely aware of her own limitations. Her best chance to win today was to play for time until Yuan and the others completed their preparations and evened out the odds. Her plan was to repel the Khan, punch through the Barrier with her bullets, and then switch places with it to escape with the cube.

    It failed on both counts.

    The Khan¡¯s Barrier easily stopped Arc¡¯s qi-bullet and absorbed its impact. The Khan himself teleported out of the Recoil Blast¡¯s way and reappeared next to Arc, his four fists raised to punch her.

    No. No, he hadn¡¯t teleported. If he had, he would have reappeared in a different spot without having moved himself, like a picture cut and pasted on another. Yet his lower hands had shifted position from forming a mudra sequence to tightening into fists.

    Arc quickly guessed the most likely explanation.

    The Khan had divided itself; split two instants apart to create a space within which only he could move. Arc assessed it couldn¡¯t have been longer than a tenth of a second based on the space he covered, but it was plenty of time for a high-Coil cultivator to react.

    Unwilling to find herself trapped in close combat with a four-armed juggernaut, Arc used Bullet Teleportation to switch places with her earlier projectile. She appeared again next to the Barrier and within reach of Zoa. The nuclear cultivator immediately spun and aimed at her face with a kick filled with radiation. Arc dodged it easily enough, but it punctured through the self-imposed Barrier holding back her unstable Authority.

    Headshot Forge¡¯s incomplete form leaked out of her in a wave that swallowed much of Battletown. Its debris gained the color of lead and the air choked with gunsmoke. Bullets rained on Zoa¡¯s and the Khan¡¯s heads before bouncing off their skulls. In its imperfect state, Headshot Forge¡¯s projectiles acted like normal projectiles incapable of piercing through the skin of high-level cultivators.

    Arc didn¡¯t have time to reapply her Barrier in battle. She knew it would kill many survivors caught within its radius, but the risk of either of these two keeping the cube was simply too great for her to hold back. She could only hope to kill her enemies before they had to redraw the maps.

    As for the Khan¡¯s own Barrier, it managed to obscure the Cube of Natho from Arc¡¯s Truesight. This could only mean one thing: that sanctuary excluded its contents from the itself.

    The sheer skill required to pull something like that off spooked Arc to her core. Even the Barriers fueling Item Materialization, which worked along the same principles by excluding everything except the object¡¯s components, hardly lasted more than a split second. Not only had the Khan created one large enough to hold the cube, but it resisted both Zoa and Arc¡¯s attempts to punch through it. He also seemed confident it would last long enough for him to finish off his rivals.

    , Arc thought as the Khan rushed at her and Zoa with a savage snarl. Each of his steps sent dust and debris flying back behind him.

    Arc noticed a very interesting detail as the Khan charged at her: some of Headshot Forge¡¯s bullets hit the Khan¡¯s chest rather than his skull. Did he have a backup head hidden there? Or did his split personality confuse her Authority?

    Whatever the reason, Arc repelled Zoa with a Recoil Fist to the chest, then leaped dozens of meters back to put distance between herself and her enemies. The Khan waved his hands and suddenly reappeared in front of Arc, having once again split time. Arc¡¯s enhanced sight and reflexes allowed her to dodge most attacks, but a fist grazed her cheek anyway.

    She immediately sensed an invisible blade slash at her very soul. The Khan attempted to sever and divide her spirit from her body. That technique would have likely killed most cultivators, even those who had braved the Moonburns and gained a better grasp on their true selves.

    A Gunsoul¡¯s core and their soul were one and the same due to the nature of their rebirth, so the Khan¡¯s attempt to split them failed to affect Arc. She hit the warlord in the chest with a Recoil Blast with enough force to send him flying back by a dozen meters, though he managed to whip up a Barrier in time to lessen the damage to a minimum.

    ¡°Disappear!¡± the Khan shouted, his two lower hands completing a mudra sequence while the upper two pointed at Arc. ¡°Divide Between Heaven and Earth!¡±

    Arc flew. S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Gravity suddenly lost its hold on her and an invisible force extirpated her from the earth. She found herself dragged up into the air in an instant. Battletown shrank beneath her. She hardly caught a glimpse of Zoa and the Khan engaging in a lightning-quick fistfight before she ascended through the clouds.

    Ever closer to space.

 Chapter 69: Orbital Strike

    Arc ascended through the atmosphere at phenomenal velocity.She moved so quickly that her cloak had burned away at the friction of the air. She had lost her hat too, which annoyed her. It had been a gift from Jim long before he became the Gun.

    But Jim had died long before that poor Revolver put his spirit to rest; their curse had seen to that when it made him its newest host, and Arc had no wish to join him in the Nowhere now. Not while that bastard Zoa continued to breathe, not while the Gun continued to haunt this broken land.

    She refused to bite the bullet before either of them did.

    Victory or defeat meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. There would always be a warlord threatening the wasteland, or a disaster knocking down everyone trying to build anything. Arc thought she could make a difference once, and failed. Why make a stand now?

    Her thoughts turned to her apprentice, who had continued to keep his faith even after seeing where their shared Path would inevitably lead them to. The way he¡¯d picked up that girl Holster and so many companions reminded her of Jim and her own old companions.

    Arc used Bullet Materialization to fire a bullet back at the earth below, then attempted to switch places with it. She immediately sensed an invisible wall form between her and the projectile that canceled her teleportation technique.

    Her jaw clenched in frustration as she flew through a cumulonimbus. The Yinyang Khan hadn¡¯t severed her from gravity¡¯s bind. He had put a curse on Arc that separated her from the very concept of . His sutra spell widened the distance between them in a way that blocked even teleportation.

    That kind of curse worked on very specific parameters. The best way for Arc to escape it was to change .

    ¡°Gun Demon Incarnation,¡± she whispered to herself.

    Her body changed to fit the shape of her soul.

    Her flesh turned to sleek steel and her skin to graceful, ethereal black leather shaped from woven shadows. Her clothes disappeared, replaced with lethal gear born from the depths of her spirit. A cloak of darkness adorned with skulls flowed from her back; her head grew a new pointed black hat that was part of her skull. It cast a veil on her mirror-face and a high collar of gunsmoke clouds covered her neck. Ammunition belts of spirit-bullets strapped themselves around her waist. Her rifle-arm had grown more grotesque and massive, though it felt light as a feather to her. It had gained three more conjoined barrels to blast a foe with, and a chain coiled around the weapon. Her other hand shed its organic flesh to reveal a skeleton of steel. Only her mane of fiery auburn hair alone remained unchanged.

    Arc mused. It had been a long time since she used Gun Demon Incarnation, and it never failed to make her feel .

    It had been so long since she had fought a fight worth her while. It pumped her up with excitement, no matter how much she wished to deny it.

    Arc sensed the Yinyang Khan¡¯s technique losing its hold on her, the curse now unable to identify her new form as its intended target. Her velocity slowed down while she whipped up a circular Barrier on which to stand. From the way she floated above the clouds, the sudden increase in temperature, and the rings of ice floating above her in the void of space, the Yinyang Khan had flung her all the way to the stratosphere. Good thing she stopped there. A few more seconds of this treatment would have sent her spiraling into the darkness of space.

    Arc focused her Truesight on the ground below; on that thin stretch of land between teeth-shaped rocks and an oil sea which people called the Fanged Coast. Her vision sharpened on a massive qi-powered highway, on the ruined city at the beginning and end of it all.

    The Yinyang Khan and Czar Zoa were engaged in a quick-paced fistfight on the ground. The former had more arms to punch with, but the latter was both quicker and a better hand-to-hand combatant. The Khan¡¯s face grew into a maddened scowl as Zoa deflected each and every one of his lightning-fast hits. He must have tried to sever the nuclear cultivator¡¯s soul from his body as well, only to fail miserably.

    Arc knew it was only a matter of time before Zoa found an opening in the Khan¡¯s frantic assault to counterattack. She aimed at both of them with her rifle arm and built up electric qi within it. Her body produced its own bullets while in Gun Demon Incarnation, so she only had to charge it to increase its speed.

    Over twenty kilometers separated them from her.

    Hardly the hardest shot she ever took.

    A mighty projectile erupted from her cannon-arm at reentry speed.

    A Recoil Blast of tremendous power propelled a fist-sized electrified bullet towards the earth below. It crossed the atmosphere in a split second and hit its targets with the strength to blow up a small city.

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    Both duelists sensed the projectile coming just in time to whip up Barriers to protect themselves. However, only Czar Zoa was familiar enough with Arc¡¯s techniques to create one capable of withstanding the impact. The Yinyang Khan¡¯s shield cracked, the resulting explosion burying him at the heart of a district-sized crater.

    Arc saw Czar Zoa point a hand at her. She barely had time to move to the left with a Recoil Shockwave before a purple gamma ray burst surged from the earth below, piercing the clouds and continuing its course into the depths of space. Arc wasn¡¯t certain how Zoa managed to pinpoint her position, but she felt confident he would lose out on a long-distance sniping duel. She loaded her rifle-arm with a new shot and prepared to fire another Railgun Blast.

    Zoa raised his left hand at her, and Arc plummeted.

    The power forcefully calling her down to Earth felt quite different from the Khan¡¯s curse. Arc had such a sensitive control over her qi that she immediately noticed which parts of her body were caught in Zoa¡¯s technique: the protons and neutrons making up the particles forming her being.

    Meanwhile, Zoa¡¯s right hand shone with the green glow of decaying particles and radiation. He likely intended to hit her with it the moment she made landfall.

    Arc analyzed as she continued to charge her Railgun Blast.

    Zoa had learned new tricks since they last met, sharpened his skills. Arc dominated him during their last encounter until their Authorities clashed, but he had gotten better and her endurance had plummeted since. She doubted she would be able to keep up with him once Gun Demon Incarnation ran out of qi to fuel itself.

    Arc had to take him fast. Blitz him.

    She didn¡¯t fight against her enemy¡¯s pull. Zoa wouldn¡¯t be able to maintain the technique create a Barrier capable of stopping her attack at the same time. She had a good chance to hit him with the technique if she struck him before he could adjust. just

    Arc descended through the clouds at high-speeds, counting the kilometers separating her from the ruins of Battletown. . Her immaculate demonic body hardly felt the friction on her iron skin and shadow-leather gear. .

    Czar Zoa tensed up, his knees crouching slightly, preparing for impact¡­

    Zoa¡¯s right palm opened, radioactive smoke seeping between his fingers.

    Arc tilted her rifle-arm a tiny bit to right, then fired. Czar Zoa immediately released his hold on her and slammed the ground with his left palm to raise a Barrier.

    Her projectile missed it by a few inches.

    Zoa¡¯s Barrier stopped the impact easily enough; the debris, not so much. Steel propelled at high-velocity by Arc¡¯s shot caused him to trip, just as she hoped. Arc landed on his chest feet-first and followed up with two Recoil Kicks. The blast threw Zoa against the ground and allowed Arc to leap away before he could catch her with his radioactive right hand.

    The Yinyang Khan arose from the smoking crater she created earlier, then waved his arms in a wild chaotic dance. Swirling blades of wind raced from his fingers in all directions, cutting through stone and steel. Czar Zoa slammed one that threatened to behead him between his hands while Arc spun in midair to dodge and retaliated with a Recoil Blast.

    The Khan¡¯s lower hands joined in a mudra sequence. Arc¡¯s attack began to slow down to a crawl until it vanished. So did her next shot.

    Arc wondered as she landed on the ground and ran around the battlefield. She, the Khan, and Czar Zoa exchanged projectiles at a blinding pace; but while the Khan¡¯s wind slashes forced his enemies to dodge to avoid being shredded to ribbons, both their qi-powered bullets and gamma ray bursts lost all power long before they could reach him.

    The Path of the Dyad focused on duality; division and cooperation. As the apex of his discipline, the Yinyang Khan managed to divide timespace itself.

    , Arc thought after narrowly avoiding a slash that would have beheaded her. It grazed her iron neck too deep for her liking.

    That kind of technique should require immense focus, but Arc knew of a Dyad trick that allowed the user to evenly split their attention. When combined with his extra set of arms, the Khan could likely fuel that defense so long as his mudra sequence was uninterrupted. Arc could only think of a single loophole, though it would cost her a of qi.

    ¡°The last you¡¯ll never see,¡± she incanted, her free hand forming a simple mudra sequence. ¡°Headshot Forge!¡±

    Arc focused her Authority until it assumed its natural form.

    She forced its wild energies back into its range of a mile centered around herself. The ruins of Battletown transformed into a realm of lead encircled by a ring of gunpowder rivers, all under a veiled dome of gunsmoke.

    Bleeding holes opened up on her foes¡¯ foreheads.

    Most Scraps thought Arc¡¯s Headshot Forge instantly fired a bullet at anyone caught within its range, but they were sorely mistaken. That effect was the result of her broken Authority leaking out of her in an imperfect form.

    In its true form, Headshot Forge began with the ¡ªa lethal bullet inside the target¡¯s brain¡ªand then retroactively rewrote reality to justify the of how it got there. The Khan¡¯s impenetrable defense couldn¡¯t overcome that effect, nor could his bulletproof skin prevent the projectile from forming inside him. He let out a scream of rage as a projectile materialized inside his very flesh.

    Two holes appeared on the Yinyang Khan: one in his forehead, the other in the middle of his chest. The latter oddity confirmed he had at least one back-up brain buried beneath his ribs. Arc guessed the Flesh Mansion Sect probably outfitted him with redundant organs and top of the line biogear.

    Nonetheless, it was still difficult for a cultivator to focus with a piece of lead lodged inside their prefrontal lobe. The Khan¡¯s upper hands stopped attacking in a desperate attempt to scratch the bullet out of his skull, while the lower ones struggled to keep the mudra sequence uninterrupted.

    While the Yinyang Khan dealt with his scrambled brains, Czar Zoa continued to operate without issue even with a bullet stuck in his head; as a nuclear cultivator similar to a Gunsoul, he could fight at top performance so long as his core remained intact. The hole in his forehead didn¡¯t even bleed. S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Czar Zoa slammed his hands together, both of them glowing with nuclear light, and then began to chant.

    ¡°I am become Death¨C¡± Arc tensed upon recognizing his Authority¡¯s incantation. ¡°Destroyer of worl¨C¡±

    Arc cast Bullet Teleportation on the projectile stuck inside his skull.

    She erupted out of Zoa¡¯s head in a shower of bones and diseased white flesh.

 Chapter 70: The Nuke, the Gun and the Blade

    A nuclear punch hit her in the chest at lightning speed.Arc would have been more than fast enough to dodge in her heyday, but she had grown rusty and was too close to Zoa to dodge properly. A fist imbued with radiation melted the outer surface of her iron belly and threw her back. She landed on a field of lead summoned by her own Authority and followed through with a Recoil Blast.

    Czar Zoa was already healing from his wounds, with his jaw reforming itself from raw nuclear radiation surging from the rest of his body. Arc studied the way his qi traveled through his body in an attempt to find his core. Zoa was too good to give its location away, but at least she prevented him from casting his Authority.

    ¡°I am fighting for the sake of your immortal soul too, Arc,¡± his half-formed mouth spoke while his legs avoided the blast with graceful dancing moves. ¡°Rudra Tandava.¡±

    Zoa¡¯s steps carried the strength of thunder as he danced forward, his hands and feet following a complex mudra sequence as nuclear light imbued his limbs with power. By the time he closed the gap between Arc and him in a bright flash of light, his face had already put itself back together¡­ only for his regeneration to abruptly stop afterward.

    Arc found herself taken aback when her enemy charged at her with the back of his skull missing. Zoa knew that her Headshot Forge would automatically target anyone with a brain¡­ so the clever bastard interrupted his regeneration .

    Arc wished she could say she could heal so easily. Her flesh regrew ammo-muscles to fill the wound Zoa left in her stomach, but the radiation imbuing it slowed down the process. A vile force caused her very atoms to decay into nothingness.

    Arc thought their Authority clash had cracked and destroyed Czar Zoa¡¯s core during their last battle, but apparently not. He must have used a qi Barrier to hide it after nearly perishing at her hands.

    Czar Zoa wasn¡¯t the nuclear cultivator who put her in the ground¡ªthat honor belonged to another she had slain decades ago and forced her to shoot herself rather than suffer a cruel death by radiation cancer¡ªbut he was by far the most dangerous. She couldn¡¯t allow him to escape again.

    ¡°When the Gautama Buddha achieved , he concluded that desire and pain were fetters trapping the mind in a universe of physical illusions,¡± Zoa said as he swirled on himself, his hands and feet leaving trails of nuclear fire in their wake. ¡°This flawed world is a prison for the souls of mankind; a trap ensnaring the immortal spirits of men in a cycle of reincarnation that keeps them from joining with the Dao.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± Arc replied after using a Recoil Shockwave to get away from her adversary.

    ¡°I know you ,¡± Zoa replied as he relentlessly hounded her across the battleground, the two of them passing by the agonizing Khan and the Barrier keeping the cube contained. The nuclear cultivator refused to give her any space. ¡°You have seen the vices festering among men. Greed, ambition, violence, ignorance¡­ sins on which this rotten city and its overlord build the foundations of their wicked power.¡±

    He clapped his hands to unleash a searing burst of crimson microwaves. Arc formed a Barrier to protect herself, the sheer heat from the attack turning dust to glass around her.

    ¡°Do you think a world where thugs like this so-called Khan rule is worth preserving?¡± Zoa asked as he maintained the pressure. ¡°There are like him, cultivators who blind themselves to the spiritual heights of our arts and spread more suffering. The Spiral Dancer tried to open their ignorant eyes to the Dao¡¯s truths, and she .¡±

    With Zoa fast enough to dodge heavy attacks and experienced enough at making Barriers to repel her weaker ones, she settled on a different solution: charging her bullets with different elemental affinities the same way Yuan¡¯s revolver channeled them.

    Countering her enemy¡¯s radiations would demand using an opposing wavelength to cancel them out, so Arc combined wood and fire qi inside her rifle arm to produce . She used her Truesight to analyze Zoa¡¯s energies and align the electrical current to them.

    ¡°Birth, aging, sickness, and death¡­ such are the four pains that keep us chained in the cycle of dharma, forever afar from the Dao,¡± Zoa ranted as he punched through her Barrier and forced her to stay on the move once again. He had always liked the position of lecturer. ¡°The Buddhas of old believed in helping individual souls reach enlightenment¡­ but why help prisoners escape when you can simply destroy the jail itself?¡±

    ¡°I living,¡± Arc replied as she finished charging her bullets.

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    She blasted a volley of lightning-speed projectiles at Zoa, each of them cackling like thunderbolts. Her nemesis attempted to stop one bare-handed on reflex, expecting his intense radioactivity to melt the bullet to nothing. The bullet instead pulverized half his palm. He struggled to dodge a shot to the chest next, with Arc¡¯s newest projectile grazing him.

    ¡°Do you?¡± Zoa asked sharply. He sounded more curious than anything, his hand already healing itself. ¡°What is there left for you to live for in this ruined shell of a world?¡±

    Arc knew talking in battle was a waste of time, but she found herself unable to ignore these questions. Once she would have said that she fought for revenge, then to live long enough until she could extirpate Jim¡¯s soul from the Gun¡¯s grasp. But Jim was dead now, as was the nuclear cultivator who first put her in the ground. The hatred she felt for Zoa and the sense of duty she held for the world¡¯s safety paled before these goals.

    What was she living for?

    ¡°Where there is light, there is shadow!¡±

    Arc¡¯s head snapped in the Khan¡¯s direction. She had been too focused on Czar Zoa to notice a small change with the warlord. The strange fang-shaped muscles on his chest had transformed into actual teeth through which a forked tongue slithered out. The belly-maw began to form deep, bellowing words even as the Khan¡¯s head struggled with the bullet stuck inside his skull.

    ¡°The forever war rages on within myself!¡± He chanted, his four hands forming a hand-sign sequence. ¡°Between good and evil, order and chaos, truth and illusion!¡±

    Realizing what the Khan was trying to do, Arc immediately switched targets and attempted to switch places with the bullet lodged in the Khan¡¯s head. She sensed an invisible, ever-expanding gulf forming between them and canceling out the attempt.

    Zoa understood the danger and joined in on the attack by lunging at the Khan with radioactive fists too, only for their common enemy¡¯s defense to slow him down to a crawl.

    ¡°I gazed beyond the yin and yang into infinity, for I alone am fit to bear it!¡± the Khan chanted as he completed his incantation. ¡°The Maddening Burden of Duality!¡±

    His Authority erupted from him in a wave of chaos, and Arc screamed from the depths of her soul.

    Headshot Forge was more than a technique and a place; it was a physical manifestation of her core, of her inner self. To have another Authority clash with it was akin to suffering the worst kind of violation.

    The Khan¡¯s Maddening Burden of Duality formed a bubble around him that expanded within Headshot Forge, like a puddle of ink trying to wash away another artist¡¯s drawing. Arc fought back to the best of her ability, but she retained the wounds of a similar clash already. Her Authority was swept away and forced back into her body for the first time in half a decade.

    The Khan¡¯s Authority swallowed everyone, banishing the lead and gunsmoke landscape to replace it with an iron dome covered in black spikes. The vast cage encircled the duelists with a droning noise and the scent of brimstone. The ground turned into a circular tatami shaped after the yin and yang symbol.

    The Yinyang Khan split in two.

    In a blink, he was gone, and then two stood in his place. The first was a perfect copy of the Yinyang Khan himself, albeit missing his lower set of arms and with his entire body now a pale shade of bone-white. The latter was a figure with a black obsidian body and a grinning oni mask for a face.

    Slash.

    ¡°Now this, is a fight worth our while!¡± he shouted with a maniacal laugh, a katana materializing out of nowhere in his hand. He immediately pointed it at Arc. ¡°Why won¡¯t you become our woman once this fight is over? Just imagine what the three of us could do together!¡±

    Arc would have sneered if she still had lips. ¡°Two different personalities, and you¡¯re creeps.¡±

    ¡°Stop wasting time, lesser me,¡± the Yinyang Khan said as he stretched his arms, his eyes glaring at Czar Zoa. The bullet wound in his head and chest had closed on their own. ¡°Both of them are worthy of our full powers. We can¡¯t afford to toy with these two.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes, boss,¡± Slash replied with a sigh. ¡°Got it, boss.¡±

    Arc immediately guessed what happened: their Authority allowed the two personalities to physically manifest in a single imaginary space.

    Arc thought. On one hand, the Khan had lost his lower hands, which prevented him from both attacking and using his defensive mudra techniques at the same time. On the other hand, there were now; and while Slash was clearly the weaker of the two, the original¡¯s qi reserves hadn¡¯t diminished in the slightest.

    She learned what said advantage was the moment Slash¡¯s sword began to smell of .

    A vile, oppressive aura swirled around the weapon in crimson waves of rolling bloodlust. Arc sensed her bullet-core pounding wildly within the depths of her iron flesh. The sniper rifle within her recognized the presence, the same way a predator identified another of its kind.

    She fired a lightning bullet and Czar Zoa followed it up with a gamma ray burst. The Yinyang Khan stopped them both in time and space with his technique, shielding his other self until he completed a sutra chant.

    ¡°By our covenant, I call upon you, oh demigod of ultraviolence!¡± Slash laughed maniacally. ¡°Slicer, slasher, stabber! Oh Blade, lend me thy beheading edge!¡±

    His sword .

    Its edge gained the color of blood, and its handle twisted until it gained spikes. Maddened yellow eyes and mouths with knife-fangs opened along the length of the blade, snarling and screeching. A malevolent will now dwelled within its steel; it was nowhere near as powerful as the Gun, in whose shadow it lingered, but it exuded twice the bloodlust and taste for impending carnage.

    The Authority shook as a bullet crashed through the dome.

    An Authority¡¯s frontier varied from one to another. Most prevented anyone from entering or exiting, but some would forgo one or the other in order to allocate more qi to its offensive capabilities. As a Dyad Path follower, the Yinyang Khan¡¯s very soul wouldn¡¯t turn down a challenger. Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    A man of steel leaped into the dome, phasing through its steel spikes as if they didn¡¯t exist. He carried a shovel on his back, and a revolver in his hand. He immediately fired a bullet at Slash¡¯s head before he even landed.

    The Yinyang Khan¡¯s lesser self easily sliced the projectile with his empowered blade, though he looked slightly rattled by the intrusion.

    Yuan Guang had entered the fray.

 Chapter 71: Cut & Dry

    Yuan¡¯s core pounded so hard it hurt to .He had rushed to Battletown as fast as he could without overtaxing his Gun Demon Incarnation, since he would require it for the battle ahead. While Arc had insisted that he leave her to fight Manhattan on her own so his group could prepare their trap, he to cower and hide. Yuan knew he was nowhere near strong enough to challenge Manhattan, but he had hoped to at least distract him at a critical moment while Orient and Holster continued setting up their counter-attack.

    Then his bullet-core had sensed Slash¡¯s presence.

    The fact that he survived Manhattan¡¯s surprise attack hardly surprised Yuan, since his enemy was in a Dyad bond with the Yinyang Khan himself. Mel and Hardy already warned him that the student would likely survive so long as the master remained alive.

    Locating the Authority swallowing the Khan¡¯s old pagoda didn¡¯t take much time; the sphere of iron covered most of the area like a bubble preventing anyone from escaping it. Having witnessed both Manhattan¡¯s Fukushima Paradise from afar and Arc¡¯s Headshot Forge up close, it didn¡¯t take Yuan long for him to identify its owner. The mere fact that the Khan managed to activate it meant that Arc was either dead or on the backfoot.

    So he had jumped into the fray.

    Crossing the Authority felt akin to entering the Thunderlands. Getting past the veil between reality was hardly disorienting, though he sensed the path close up behind him. Yuan soon leaped into a domed arena where four fighters eyed each other. Arc had transformed into a mechanical figure which Yuan took as her Gun Demon Incarnation. His relief at seeing her alive lasted until he noticed that Manhattan, the Khan, and Slash were still standing too. Yuan¡¯s bullet-core pounded in his skull upon seeing the last two, his qi sight immediately noticing the ungodly similarities between them.

    . Most would have been intimidated by this revelation, but not Yuan Guang. Learning that the man who put him in the ground was the same tyrant whose cruelty led to Holster¡¯s branding as a Human Pillar only heightened his desire to slaughter them both.

    ¡°What¡¯s that shovel for, trash?¡± Slash asked upon noticing Yuan¡¯s tool.

    ¡°Your ,¡± Yuan replied while unloading his revolver at his murderer.

    He knew it wasn¡¯t particularly a good idea to bring such a tool to a battle to the death¡ªeven if it originally helped with setting up Holster¡¯s alterations to the Khan¡¯s artificial leyline¡ªbut it did help make a . S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Slash laughed hysterically, then swiftly crouched while he adopted a fighting pose with his katana. A sutra circle appeared out of nowhere around him. Yuan at first thought they formed a Barrier, but they let his bullets pass through it.

    Slash¡¯s sword intercepted them easily enough.

    Yuan fired wood and fire projectiles at Slash, each of them capable of either blasting him to pieces or restraining his limbs. His katana sliced through them both at such blinding speeds that even Yuan¡¯s enhanced sight struggled to keep up with it. The blade cut through more than the lead making up the bullets; it cut through the empowering them. The fire and roots they carried were split in two without triggering a detonation, leaving the debris to harmlessly fly past their target and drop to the floor.

    Arc and Manhattan resumed their fight with the Khan at the same time, the latter two engaging in melee while the former bombarded them with lightning bullets. All three of them moved so fast that they appeared like blurs to Yuan¡¯s senses.

    Yuan and Slash ignored them. They instead glared at each other with murderous animosity. The rage radiating from Yuan¡¯s bullet-core was only matched by the bloodlust oozing from his enemy¡¯s sword.

    ¡°You¡¯re funny!¡± Slash said before waving his katana at Yuan in a vertical motion. ¡°I¡¯ll enjoy killing you again!¡±

    His sword cut through the air and more. Space itself seemed to ripple and rip as a tear formed in the very fabric of reality. A slash that sliced through traveled in Yuan¡¯s direction at supersonic speed.

    But Yuan had long transcended that kind of speed. He dodged the attack by side-stepping to the side and followed with another volley of revolver bullets, trying to gauge Slash¡¯s defense. The space slash cut through the spot he used to stand on a second ago, carving out a line across the ground and even leaving a slight crack on the iron walls of the Khan¡¯s own Authority.

    Slash easily cut through any projectile thrown his way. Most importantly, he did so without looking at any of them; his sword guided his hand the moment the bullets entered the range of his sutra circle.

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    Yuan guessed before adjusting his strategy. Realizing long-distance wouldn¡¯t work, he holstered his revolver and moved in closer to Slash, then followed through with a Recoil Blast aiming at the sutra ring itself. The shockwave shattered the circle without giving Slash a chance to intercept it.

    The Dyad swordsman lunged at Yuan in response at a speed that rivaled Coyote¡¯s. Yuan immediately triggered his Gun Demon Incarnation, his body changing in the blink of an eye and his speed increasing tenfold. The shovel fell off his back and was sliced in half before it even touched the ground.

    Yuan himself easily dodged Slash¡¯s slices then followed them up with a blast from his cannon-arm. A stream of fire erupted from it to incinerate his murderer.

    Slash¡¯s sword shrieked with the rabid rage of a savage animal, the knife-mouths along its length snarling at Yuan. Slash whipped up a whirlwind with a set of circular motions, repelling the flames. Such was his katana¡¯s bloodlust that it almost threatened to leap out of his hands in its hunger to kill Yuan.

    ¡°That¡¯s a ; the Blade¡¯s equivalent to Gunsouls,¡± Arc warned Yuan in between shots. ¡°A cursed sword that relishes the taste of blood!¡±

    ¡°This is the only blade that can channel my technique without breaking down,¡± Slash boasted. He waved his sword horizontally, a line splitting space along its edge and right towards Yuan. ¡°The Wuji Slash!¡±

    Yuan knew that this term referred to the nothingness beyond yin and yang.

    No wonder his murderer could counter his projectiles so easily. His technique cut through itself like a knife through butter.

    Yuan jumped over the horizontal slice, then responded with a volley of qi-powered minigun bullets. His counterattack proved too quick for Slash to anticipate. His projectiles blasted apart his left shoulder and half his chest.

    To Yuan¡¯s frustration, Slash¡¯s wounds knitted back together in an instant. The pieces blown apart by his projectiles simply flew back into place while he laughed.

    ¡°Enough of this, my lesser half!¡± the Khan ordered upon pointing a finger at Manhattan. A circular Barrier suddenly enclosed the nuclear cultivator behind a shroud of smoky darkness and light beams. Its surface rippled as its prisoner attempted to break out, to no avail. ¡°Finish off that subhuman waste of skin and let us focus on the woman!¡±

    Yuan guessed that the Khan¡¯s two halves planned to take on their enemies one after another. They likely hoped that their Barrier would keep Manhattan contained long enough for them to deal with Arc.

    A difficult prospect.

    ¡°Subhuman?¡± Arc scoffed upon following through with a Recoil Blast that hit the Khan in the chest and sent him back a few meters. Her shot tore off half the warlord¡¯s chest. ¡°Big talk for a two-faced mutant.¡±

    The Yinyang Khan responded with a growl, the hole in his chest closing in the blink of an eye. Yuan observed the process long enough to sense Slash¡¯s own core flare up in response to his other self¡¯s injuries.

    Their Authority would keep reviving them so long as at least one remained.

    ¡°They¡¯re the same, Yuan!¡± Arc warned him, having reached the same conclusion he did. ¡°We¡¯ve got to kill them both at once!¡±

    ¡°Subhuman creatures like you Gunsouls, who cannot even cultivate without the mercy of a higher power, ought to be exterminated from this Earth!¡± The Yinyang Khan snarled, his hands slapping together. ¡°You are a stain on our arts!¡±

    A space-ripping slice erupted from his hands straight at Arc, longer and thicker than the one Slash sent Yuan¡¯s away. Both Gunsouls dodged the attacks and fired back with qi-powered bullets. Slash summoned another sutra ring and cut apart Yuan¡¯s projectiles, while Arc¡¯s own shots were frozen in space by the Khan¡¯s mudra sequences.

    Seeing the Yinyang Khan¡¯s attack and comparing it to Slash¡¯s own led Yuan to a profound realization. One that emboldened him.

    ¡°I see you now,¡± Yuan said as he dodged slice after slice, flying around Slash while looking for an opening. ¡°What you are, really.¡±

    Slash chuckled smugly. ¡°The man who put you in the ground and will send you back there?¡±

    ¡°A slave to yourself,¡± Yuan countered with disdain. ¡°The half of the Khan who a sword to cast the same technique his better half can do with his bare hands. The weakling that makes his master shine.¡± Yuan empowered a bullet with a specific qi frequency. ¡°The .¡±

    Slash¡¯s jaw tightened into a scowl, his katana surging to automatically intercept the bullets, only for them to phase through his blade as if they weren¡¯t even there. They bounced off Slash¡¯s skin without inflicting any damage, but the surprise still rattled him.

    Yuan suppressed a smirk. As he had suspected, Slash¡¯s technique let him cut through anything it touched, but it was still channeled through a sword. Armor-ignoring bullets could phase through it.

    These projectiles unfortunately lacked the power to inflict damage on a Third Coil cultivator and above. Arc told him he could imbue his bullets with multiple effects, so he would have to learn how to on the spot.

    Yuan told himself. He cycled qi through his inner circuits, reciting the sutra chant engraved into his very being, basking in the instinctive knowledge that being a living firearm provided.

    He fired a stream of bullets at Slash with his minigun arm, empowering them with qi frequencies aligned with different weapons. Each of his projectiles carried a different note in the Gun Path¡¯s song. His goal was to nail a combination of an assault rifle¡¯s armor-ignoring ability and a gun¡¯s qi-powered explosive bullet.

    Almost all of them were failures. A few phased through Slash¡¯s defense and flattened against his invulnerable skin as Yuan imbued them with the armor-ignoring effect but failed to pack them with explosive qi; others were sliced apart by his enemy¡¯s hungry katana.

    However, there was an advantage to firing with a bottomless minigun: namely, probabilities worked in his favor. It didn¡¯t matter how many bullets Yuan wasted; he only had to nail the right combination .

    Which he eventually did.

    One of Yuan¡¯s qi-powered bullets phased through the metal blade and blasted Slash¡¯s skull open with immense force.

 Chapter 72: Lights Out

    Slash¡¯s head exploded atop his shoulders.Yuan¡¯s bullet-core pounded with satisfaction inside his skull at the irony of his murderer perishing from the very same way he once put the Gunsoul into the ground. Payback at last.

    However, his joy only lasted until his foe¡¯s corpse hit the ground. Slash¡¯s blood and brain matter had already started pulling itself back together by the will of his surviving other half. The Yinyang Khan himself remained on the defensive, his hands forming a mudra sequence that stopped all of Arc¡¯s projectiles mid-flight.

    Realizing this, Arc charged at him with her free hands forming mudras signs of her own.

    ¡°The last thing you never see!¡± she said, her voice strained with pain. ¡°Headshot Forge!¡±

    A bubble of lead and gunsmoke emerged from her body, pressing back against the Khan¡¯s own inner reality in an attempt to kill him before his other self recovered.

    Yuan had never seen an Authority clash in the past, and witnessing it first-hand sent shivers down his spine. Two different visions of the world materialized within a few meters¡¯ range and fought over ownership of reality. The Yinyang Khan¡¯s maddened vision of endless fighting and splintered minds pressed against the ammunition bog of Headshot Forge, the same way water sought to extinguish any pocket of air within itself.

    Arc pushed back with all of her qi and strength, but the experience wore her down spiritually and physically. Her rifle-arm cracked along its barrel and her steel-skin rusted along the edges. All of her willpower hardly allowed her to expand her Authority around two meters from herself.

    But it was enough to briefly engulf the Yinyang Khan.

    A bloody hole opened in the warlord¡¯s skull, blasting his brain apart within the physical incarnation of his soul. He let out a scream of rage and pain echoed by cracks spreading through the iron dome.

    Arc had struck a lethal blow while his other personality was temporarily dead. For a brief instant, the yin and yang that made up the Khan¡¯s existence perished.

    His Authority collapsed upon itself with a final shriek.

    To Yuan¡¯s senses, it looked as if his entire reality shattered like a broken window. Pieces of space fell off to reveal the ruins of Battletown underneath. Slash¡¯s corpse vanished in the blink of an eye, leaving only his hungry blade and Yuan¡¯s handgun behind, while the Khan¡¯s remains regained their lost lower two arms as he collapsed on his back. His qi dissipated as blood poured out of his broken skull.

    The Yinyang Khan, Lord of Battletown, murderer of Yuan Guang, and tormentor of countless innocent souls, lay dead on the ground.

    . A powerful sense of accomplishment erupted from Yuan¡¯s bullet core and over his entire body. He had finally accomplished what the Gun raised him from the dead for.

    But he had no time to revel in his victory yet. The battle was far from over.

    The Khan¡¯s Barriers disappeared with their creator¡¯s demise. One revealed the Cube of Natho sitting among the ruins; the other showed a freed Manhattan, who sang sutras to himself with his hands joined in meditation.

    ¡°--eath, destroyer of worlds.¡±

    Arc and Yuan immediately fired at him, their bullets hitting a sphere of nuclear energy expanding around Manhattan. The searing light emanating from the nuclear cultivator illuminated Battletown, and the sheer qi pressure filled Yuan with overwhelming dread.

    An Authority.

    Manhattan had been waiting for his enemies to kill each other, then sucker-punch them with his strongest technique in one final blow.

    ¡°Yuan, grab the cube!¡± Arc ordered Yuan, her free hand forming another mudra. ¡°Now!¡±

    Throwing himself forward with a Recoil Shockwave, Yuan reached the Cube of Natho in an instant. Since he lacked hands in his Gun Demon Incarnation, he grabbed the cursed artifact with his teeth.

    ¡°I am the dead white flash and the silent winter that remains!¡± Manhattan chanted, his voice echoing with the detonation of distant explosions. ¡°I am the hammer that cracks the cosmic egg and smashes the atom!¡±

    ¡°The last thing you never see!¡± Arc shouted back, her broken Authority expanding around her in a last ditch attempt to stop her nemesis from doing the same.

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    ¡°Let there be light!¡± Manhattan shouted, right as Arc fired Headshot Forge. ¡°Fukushima Paradise!¡±

    Two Authorities swallowed the world in a clash of light and lead.

    Manhattan brightened like the sun and unleashed a flood of radioactive dust. Green energies and irradiated clouds filled Yuan¡¯s horizon, bathing the universe in Fukushima Paradise¡¯s destructive radiance. Yuan found it oddly beautiful, almost comforting; the same way a flame seemed graceful before it consumed the world that gave birth to it. He knew he was gazing upon the Big Bang¡¯s light reborn, the spark that ignited the cosmos itself. It swallowed the Khan¡¯s corpse, Slash¡¯s sword and the handgun without leaving behind.

    Yuan found himself thrown backward as Arc¡¯s Headshot Forge enclosed him, her inner reality shielding him from Manhattan¡¯s radioactive flood. The very cosmos went haywire as two opposing wills feuded over its control. The Nuclear Buddha¡¯s desire for annihilation clashed with Arc¡¯s determination made manifest.

    The battle¡¯s outcome was decided before it even began.

    Arc¡¯s core was broken and her Authority crippled, while Manhattan¡¯s remained intact. The flood of radiation pushed back Headshot Forge¡¯s wavering reality with relentless determination. Cracks appeared both on the Authority¡¯s fabric and its caster¡¯s body. Both would soon fall, after which Fukushima Paradise would vaporize them in an instant.

    ¡°Yuan¡­¡± Arc whispered, her voice echoing through the Authority of her soul. ¡°End it all.¡±

    Something about her tone sent shivers down Yuan¡¯s spine.

    A colossal flood of qi erupted from Arc while her body brightened with fire and lightning. Her circuits ignited as her own power broke out of its container. Ripples of energy spread across Headshot Forge until it began to push back Fukushima Paradise.

    Arc was pouring all of herself into her Authority.

    of herself.

    ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± Yuan shouted in panic, his voice bellowing through his ammo teeth and the cube stuck between them. ¡°You¡¯ll die!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m already dead, you moron!¡± Arc snapped back.

    Yuan flinched as if he had been blasted himself. Arc was right, she was already condemned. Either she failed to keep her Authority up, at which point Manhattan¡¯s own would vaporize them both, or she¡¯ll power through it and win the clash at the cost of her own existence. No Barrier nor protection would keep Fukushima Paradise from annihilating them both.

    It was the end for one of them, maybe both.

    ¡°At least this way I can take that bastard down with me¡­ finish the job I flubbed all those years back.¡± Arc tensed up, her body breaking at the seams. ¡°Yuan, if you live through this¡­ do me a solid¡­ no vow required.¡±

    Yuan tensed up, but he did not argue. He couldn¡¯t deny an ally¡¯s last request. ¡°I¡¯ll protect the cube with my life.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you stop there!¡± Headshot Forge was a manifestation of Arc¡¯s core and soul. For an instant, its very air choked with fatalism and then a wind of overwhelming resolve. ¡°The Nuke, the Gun, the Blade¡­ all these assholes feeding on our pain¡­ end them all!¡± Arc blazed like the heart of the sun. ¡°Finish the job¨C¡±

    Her bullet-core exploded within her chest. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    A pulse of qi carrying all of Arc¡¯s life and strength erupted from her body, vaporizing it and rippling through her Authority. The wave carried Yuan back and pushed back the light of Fukushima Paradise in one last clash. Manhattan¡¯s shriek of pain echoed across his collapsing Authority, his very core made manifest breaking under the strain of Headshot Forge¡¯s final counter-attack.

    Reality shattered again in a bright flash, sending Yuan crashing against steel debris. The shock knocked him out of Gun Demon Incarnation and back into his human form. The cube slipped beyond his grasp and rolled onto radioactive dust. He was back among the ruins of Battletown, the old universe reasserting itself over the lingering traces of Headshot Forge and Fukushima Paradise.

    Nothing remained of Arc. Nothing but dust and shrapnel.

    Yuan¡¯s bullet-core skipped a beat in guilt. She had given her life to save the world. To stop Manhattan.

    ¡°Argh¡­¡±

    Yet the enemy lived.

    Manhattan barely looked like he could stand on his feet, but he still breathed. His charred chest leaked radioactive smoke out of a set of ribs burnt to a crisp. More qi poured out of it in a second than all that Yuan could manage while in his Gun Demon Incarnation.

    His core had cracked open the same way Arc¡¯s once did.

    ¡°Finally dead¡­ at last¡­ freed from this world¡­¡± The nuclear cultivator lumbered towards Yuan, his maddened eyes glowing with a murderous gleam. ¡°Now¡­ your turn.¡±

    Manhattan closed the gap between them in a flash, his fist raised for the kill. There was no hesitation in his gaze, no pity nor remorse. Only the cold determination of a lethal killer eager to see things through.

    Yuan barely managed to trigger his Black Haze and hid himself in qi-charged smoke. He sensed Manhattan¡¯s radioactive hand come within an inch of his face, yet successfully dodged and leaped to grab the cube.

    . The realization hit Yuan like a brick wall. He would have been forced to use Gun Demon Incarnation to even hope to survive against Manhattan before, but here he managed to dodge a lethal blow in his human form.

    An overwhelming current of qi washed over the area.

    Yuan sensed Holster and Orient¡¯s presence washing over the leyline connecting Battletown to its landmarks. A circular Barrier arose over the city¡¯s ruins, trapping everyone inside it in a translucent tunnel; a trap set for Manhattan himself.

    A massive fireball fell upon the nuclear cultivator a second later.

    Yuan had seen that projectile blast away Chemzard¡¯s sutra-powered truck. It hardly fazed Manhattan, though the impact caused him to stumble. The Nuclear Buddha glanced around to find himself surrounded from all sides.

    ¡°You thought we would let him have all the fun?¡± Mel taunted Manhattan as he and his brother jumped into the fray to reinforce Yuan. ¡°It¡¯s not a one-on-one fight!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s three against one!¡± Hardy added.

    Yuan adopted a fighting stance, the Cube of Natho safe within his hands. Manhattan¡¯s core was cracked. If he died now, he wouldn¡¯t return from the Nowhere ever again.

    Yuan thought as he charged at Manhattan, the memory of Arc flaring in his mind.

 Chapter 73: Bullet Train

    They all ganged up on Manhattan in a desperate last stand.

    Mel and Hardy formed a connecting thread of qi between their hands, which Yuan recognized as the same technique they used to cut Duckman in half during the race. He himself grabbed his revolver with his free hand and held the cube with the other. He fired a volley of elemental bullets at the nuclear cultivator while his allies attempted to slice him in two.

    Manhattan simply dodged Yuan¡¯s bullets and then cut the brothers¡¯ thread with a wave of his palm.

    Yuan had seen the latter slice a man in two easily enough, but Manhattan had snapped it with a flick of his fingers like a silk string. The nuclear cultivator ignored the brothers and charged at the Gunsoul in the blink of an eye, his gaze solely focusing on the cube.

    Yuan immediately retreated with a Recoil Shockwave, only for Manhattan to teleport right in front of him in a flash of green protons, a radioactive fist aimed at his face.

    Yuan¡¯s senses let him see and react quicker than any man, but he still failed to dodge the blow in time. A sharp surge of pain erupted in his skull as Manhattan¡¯s fist shattered his lower jaw and sent it flying into pieces.

    It could have been worse. Had Yuan been a slower, then the blow would have torn off his entire head and his bullet-core along with it.

    The fact he was alive at all spoke volumes about Manhattan¡¯s state of weakness. Yuan had witnessed him exchange blows with Arc and the Khan at speeds that surpassed Coyote¡¯s. He was slow, and his blows lacked their previous weight.

    But a weakened Fifth Coil cultivator was still in a league of its own.

    ¡°I should have killed you back then¡­¡± Manhattan said without pity nor anger, his other fist raised for a second blow. ¡°Would have been¡­ a mercy¡­¡±

    Wagering everything on his foe¡¯s obsession with the cube, Yuan threw it and his revolver up in the air. Manhattan¡¯s eyes looked up at his prize, which created an opening. Yuan immediately exploited that split second of inattention to follow through with a Gatling Fist-Black Haze combo. His hands surged with the sound of gunshots, only to hit an impenetrable wall of Barrier-powered palms.

    The likes of Gayak and Chemzard had managed to hold off the assault for a while before faltering, but Manhattan once again proved himself to be in an entirely different league. He anticipated and blocked all Yuan¡¯s blows, even those shrouded by Black Haze, then slipped a punch through his defense. The Gunsoul let out a growl of pain as the blow flung him back a few feet. A melted hole of irradiated iron grew in the center of his chest.

    The duel ended before the cube and revolver even hit the ground.

    ¡°Did it give you any¡­ satisfaction?¡± Manhattan asked, turning around just long enough to dodge Mel and Hardy¡¯s attempts to sucker punch him. He kicked one brother into the other¡¯s way, sending them both flying against the closed Barrier encircling the area. ¡°Killing your murderer?¡±

    Yuan already knew the gulf that separated him from the likes of Arc and Manhattan, but that last exchange of blows had only strengthened that certainty. Even with his core cracked, even after losing an Authority clash and wasting a godawful amount of qi, the nuclear cultivator still thoroughly outclassed all his assailants.

    Yuan did see a silver lining in Manhattan¡¯s reaction. If he actually bothered to Mel and Hardy¡¯s blows, even after barely suffering any scratch from their earlier fireball, then it meant he believed that they hurt him. He wasn¡¯t invincible.

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    ¡°Won¡¯t let you have the cube,¡± Yuan growled through the hole in his mouth. He used a Recoil Shockwave to throw himself at the artifact and grab it in the air alongside his revolver, then fired at Manhattan while in midair.

    ¡°You will be like Sysiphus on his hill¡­¡± Manhattan replied while easily dodging the projectiles. ¡°We children of the Nuke¡­ and fools seeking its power¡­ we will never stop looking for it.¡±

    Yuan had no idea what he referred to, nor the time to ponder it for long. Manhattan pointed a finger at him, a gamma ray burst of blinding light erupting from it. The laser hit Yuan through the chest in midair, vaporized all of his left ribs, and sent him crashing back-first into the Barrier. He lost his grip on his revolver during the crash, though he managed to hang onto the cube.

    The searing pain paled before the numbness that spread down his damaged spine. The lower half of Yuan¡¯s body seemed to vanish to his senses, replaced with melting burns.

    Yuan only required his bullet-core to survive, but he still required his qi-circuits to move his metallic flesh around. Manhattan¡¯s attack had liquefied most of his spine and left him stranded on the ground.

    A specter of blinding light loomed over him.

    ¡°You wasted your new life¡­ seeking ephemeral strength¡­ and chasing after pointless desires¡­¡± Manhattan glared down on Yuan, his eyes glowing with the green light of nuclear annihilation. The radiation leaking out of his damaged core battered the Gunsoul in waves of searing heat. ¡°Like Arc before you¡­¡±

    Yuan would have clenched his jaw if he still had one. Instead, he could only glare as Manhattan raised his foot to stomp on his skull.

    Then he noticed the phantom tracks.

    An endless procession of ghostly rails and crossties covered the ravaged streets of Battletown, forming a clear line surrounded by tiny walkways enclosed in the giant Barrier. A blinding star shone in the wasteland and advanced upon them at immense speed. It rode the artificial leyline connecting the city to its landmarks in a wave of energy that put even the weight of Authorities to shame.

    ¡°What¡¯s ?¡± Manhattan wondered in shock, his voice quieter as he stared at the surge of qi rushing towards them. ¡°A desperate trick?¡±

    Yuan immediately noticed it; that familiar edge in his words, that emotion which he had thought the nuclear cultivator bereft of.

    .

    For the first time in the entire battle, Manhattan was unsettled. Off his game. Arc had pushed him to his limits, weakened him until he had to put actual effort into fighting lesser cultivators. He was no longer of his victory. He had no idea what kind of danger approached, or for what purpose.

    Yuan saw his chance and took it.

    ¡°It¡¯s death,¡± Yuan replied, his Recoil Fist shockwave traveling through his palm. ¡°Your death!¡±

    Yuan launched the Cube of Natho in the tracks¡¯ path with a well-placed shockwave.

    It was a bluff, a gamble born of desperation. Yuan had no idea whether what was coming would indeed destroy the sealed Nuke¡­ but Manhattan couldn¡¯t tell .

    Yuan could see the Nuclear Buddha¡¯s thoughts written all over his usually emotionless skull. Had it all been a setup? An elaborate ritual to destroy the Nuke while he was on the verge of victory? Had this been Arc¡¯s plan from the start? Was this why she sacrificed her life? Because it would ensure her final triumph?

    Manhattan was himself, and doubt made even the strongest act.

    He decided that the risk was simply too great. Manhattan used his teleportation ability to reappear right next to the cube and catch it in midair, sealing his fate.

    If his core hadn¡¯t cracked¡­ if he wasn¡¯t struggling against the wounds ripping his body apart¡­ if he hadn¡¯t wasted so much qi in battle¡­ and if Yuan hadn¡¯t nailed his timing¡­ then Manhattan would have likely caught his prize and fled away from the tracks. But all of these factors had slowed him down enough. sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    And not even light could outspeed a .

    Orient rammed into Manhattan in a cataclysmic crash.

    Yuan¡¯s enhanced sight hardly caught a glimpse of the collision before a cloud of light and nuclear smoke swallowed him whole. He saw Orient hit Manhattan and the cube, sutras woven into her iron frame shining brightly; the same formulas that Holster once used to purify the corrupted Rad-hag which she used to be. Manhattan¡¯s cracked core shattered like Arc¡¯s did in a bright apocalyptic flash, like a bottle shattering to release the water inside. A great brightness swallowed Yuan whole in a flood of green particles.

    Then there was light.

 Chapter 74: Nuclear Winter

    For a while, Yuan thought he had returned to the Nowhere again. That his half-life had come to an end in a flood of nuclear light and returned to nothingness.

    But he had already tasted death once from the barrel of his own gun. He did not recall a core pounding in his head when the darkness beckoned him to reincarnate, nor the sore numbness of a body too heavy for his soul to escape.

    Yuan Guang had survived against all odds.

    His telescopic eyes slowly opened to face the familiar ceiling of the Metal Wagon, and the tearful face of Holster looking down on him with relief. He sensed her arms crush his windpipe into a hug a second later, warm water falling on his face.

    ¡°H¡­ Holster?¡± Yuan growled, gunsmoke flowing out of his throat. He could sense his jaw again, though his ammo teeth had yet to regrow. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ alive?¡±

    ¡°Sir!¡± Yuan heard Bucket¡¯s voice, though his eyes hadn¡¯t yet acclimated enough to see him. ¡°We feared ourselves bereft of your guidance!¡±

    Yuan was too groggy to think straight. He tried to rise up until a sharp surge of pain stopped him. He sensed kind hands move under the back of his head and help lift him. Yuan recognized Orient¡¯s touch long before his eyes saw her smiling at him.

    ¡°Do not stress yourself, Honored Conductor Yuan,¡± Orient advised. ¡°You haven¡¯t managed to fully regenerate yet.¡±

    She helped Yuan look around him. His allies surrounded him, except for Mel, Hardy¡­ and Arc. They had put him atop a clinical bed to support his body, since he was missing his arms and everything below the lungs. He must have regenerated the rest over the course of¡­ the Wayfinders knew how long.

    He was afraid to ask what happened, until he saw that Bucket carried the Cube of Natho in his hands. Its baleful eyes looked back at Yuan with a hint of gleaming malice.

    ¡°What¡­¡± Yuan¡¯s eyes widened as he finally recalled what preceded the flash. ¡°Manhattan¡­¡±

    ¡°Gone,¡± Orient reassured him. ¡°Lady Arc¡¯s plan worked. I destroyed him.¡±

    Yuan gasped in relief, and terrible doubt. ¡°Are you¡­ are you sure?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I felt his core shatter against my locomotive.¡± Orient¡¯s smile turned into a grim scowl. ¡°The blast would have snuffed me out too if I didn¡¯t have a leyline¡¯s worth of qi infusing my steel. Our alterations to the History Road circuit barely managed to purify the resulting radiation before it could pollute the entire region. The cube remained intact.¡±

    Of course it did. It would make sense for its creators to specifically design it to withstand nuclear explosions.

    ¡°Mel? Hardy?¡± Yuan coughed oil and gunsmoke. ¡°Did¡­ did they survive?¡±

    ¡°They are¡­ alive. For now.¡± Orient scowled. ¡°They suffered extensive injuries from the blast. A surgeon is operating on them as we speak, but he could not guarantee their survival.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I see,¡± Yuan said softly. Of course they had been wounded. They had been at ground zero and unlike him, they couldn¡¯t regenerate from a single bullet¡¯s worth of qi. ¡°I hope they pull through.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Orient apologized. ¡°If I had been slower, mayhaps I could have¨C¡±

    ¡°If you had been slower, milady, then we¡¯d all be dead,¡± Bucket replied with confidence. ¡°The foul servant of the Nuke would have murdered our honored conductor and sent us off to the Afterlife Station.¡±

    Bucket was right. Yuan was unbearably to have survived where the likes of Arc perished. It almost felt unjust. Arc had been so much stronger than he was, yet a single mistake cost her life. If she had been a second faster in unleashing her Authority, then she would still be there with them.

    Yuan knew he could say the same for Manhattan, but it still seemed absurd. Even the strongest cultivators danced on the knife¡¯s edge when fighting each other.

    As for Mel and Hardy, Yuan knew that Manhattan would have escaped with the cube had they not helped stall him. They hadn¡¯t hesitated to fight the Fanged Coast¡¯s strongest cultivator if it meant saving their hometown from destruction. Yuan prayed to the Wayfinders that they would survive through their surgery.

    But although costly, today had nonetheless been a great victory.

    Czar ¡°Manhattan¡± Zoa, terror of the Wasteland, was dead. Hopefully for good this time.

    It took Yuan some time to accept this news, and longer to fathom its full implications. The Yinyang Khan was gone, alongside Slash, Battletown, and their whole rotten empire. Manhattan had been destroyed. Arc, Mingxia, and Jaw-Long had all been avenged.

    Yuan glanced at the cube with some apprehension. On one hand, he was happy that the Nuke hadn¡¯t escape its binding; on the other hand, it spoke volumes about its power if it required such an unbreakable prison.

    Manhattan¡¯s words rang true. Ambitious fools and madmen would never stop hunting for it.

    And they would have to step over Yuan¡¯s corpse to reach it.

    ¡ª-----

    Yuan had been knocked out for an entire day¡¯s time according to Orient, and it took him another day under constant exposure to metal-aligned qi to regrow his limbs. Holster and her cat Gotama stayed at his side until he could walk again. Yuan guessed that nearly seeing him die had only made his charge more worried for his safety.

    It warmed Yuan¡¯s heart and saddened him a bit. Holster should be leaning on him to protect , not the other way around.

    He visited his crew afterward. Bucket and the other passengers mostly survived the race unscathed besides a few wounded during the race¡¯s various gunfights. Knowing they were safe warmed Yuan¡¯s heart for a reason he couldn¡¯t quite explain. He didn¡¯t know any of the people onboard personally, but he felt personally responsible for their safety and pleased by their survival.

    The very thought caused Yuan no end of strange amusement.

    Orient and Holster would always come first, but Bucket and the others fought with him in the most lethal race he had ever had the displeasure of participating in. That counted for something.

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    They spent the day helping survivors from Battletown¡¯s destruction and burying those they could find to reduce the spread of hungry ghosts. Orient temporarily transformed three of the wagons into improvised hospital houses to treat the wounded and purge them of leftover radiation poisoning.

    Thankfully, a few doctors like Jared LaChair had lived through the cataclysmic battle and agreed to cooperate; setting up his clinic as far as possible from the Khan¡¯s seat of power had likely saved his life. Knowing that he had been the one operating the Dyad brothers also reassured Yuan somewhat.

    Holster guided Yuan through the hospital wagons to visit them, when he noticed a familiar birdface among the wounded.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe it,¡± Yuan said in disbelief. ¡°How are still alive?¡±

    Duckman looked back at him defiantly, both halves of his bisected body lying on a surgical couch. Jared LaChair was operating on him and trying to sew his severed flesh together with threads. Mel and Hardy occupied the next beds, both of them covered in so many bandages Yuan wouldn¡¯t have recognized them without analyzing their qi signatures first.

    ¡°You thought you could rid yourself of Duckman so easily?!¡± Duckman tightened his hand into a fist and raised it as if to challenge the heavens. ¡°Duckman will never die!¡±

    ¡°Against all odds,¡± Jared LaChair commented as he sewed back on Duckman¡¯s legs to the rest of his body. ¡°Be thankful that your bed neighbors insisted on treating you. The train lady wanted you thrown back into the desert.¡±

    Yuan looked at Mel and Hardy in disapproval. ¡°Why save this waste of skin? He tried to kill us.¡±

    ¡°The way I see it, a History Road feud starts and ends with the competition,¡± Mel replied with a cough. His brother remained asleep, his nose wheezing with each inspiration. ¡°Plus he dragged himself all the way to Battletown. Can¡¯t help but respect his resilience.¡±

    ¡°What is a duck, but a water phoenix?!¡± Duckman boasted.

    ¡°Or maybe he¡¯s too stupid to die,¡± Mel said, ignoring his fellow patient¡¯s glare. ¡°Can¡¯t believe you already look good as new, Yuan. Your Path is busted.¡±

    ¡°Yours isn¡¯t too bad either,¡± Yuan replied. The Yinyang Khan had been living proof of its power. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m glad you and Hardy both survived.¡±

    Mel smiled the best he could through the bandages. ¡°We¡¯ve got the doc to thank for that.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s always the same with you Dyads,¡± Jared LaChair replied gruffly. ¡°You save one, you save the other. Your own Wayfinders refused to die until one killed the other.¡±

    ¡°The Duck Path is better!¡± Duckman insisted proudly. ¡°Duckman will prove it anytime!¡±

    ¡°I hope you''re not going to pick a fight,¡± Yuan coldly warned him. ¡°I can still finish what we started during the History Road.¡±

    Duckman looked at him with an emotion Yuan had rarely seen sent his way: fear.

    ¡°Duckman¡­¡± He took a deep breath. ¡°Duckman is going back to his pond. Duckman¡¯s done with this shithole.¡±

    Holster stuck her tongue at him. Yuan would have scolded her under normal circumstances, but Duckman had earned it.

    It annoyed Yuan that the likes of Duckman lived while Arc perished, but he at least seemed to have learned his lesson and let bygones be bygones. Mel was right, their enmity had begun and stopped with the History Road competition.

    The way Duckman looked at him did bother Yuan a bit. He glanced around himself to see other patients look at him with a mix of awe and apprehension, the same way disciples would tread warily around a Sect Elder. Even Jared LaChair seemed strangely on guard around him.

    ¡°Why are you all looking at me like that?¡± Yuan asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s called ,¡± Mel said with a chuckle. ¡°You¡¯re the man who killed the Yinyang Khan. Get used to it.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t kill the Khan,¡± Yuan protested. ¡°Just half of him. The one.¡± S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡°You were the last man standing at the end of the day,¡± Jared replied with a shrug. ¡°That makes you the winner.¡±

    It was then, at this very instant, that Yuan realized he would be able to settle down peacefully.

    LaChair was right: few had seen the fight in its entirety and only the results mattered. As far as everyone was concerned, powerful cultivators with city-destroying Authorities waged a legendary fight over Battletown¡¯s ruins; and Yuan Guang was the only one standing when the dust settled.

    He would soon become a wasteland legend. The man who picked a fight with the Yinyang Khan and lived to tell the tale.

    Every ambitious cultivator across the Fanged Coast would try to either recruit or kill him to make a name for themselves. No sect could afford to ignore him anymore. He was either a force they wanted on their side, or a potential threat. The Yinyang Khan¡¯s death had left a void that many would try to fill.

    Yuan thought as he and Holster returned to the locomotive.

    They found Orient keeping watch over the Cube of Natho in the driver¡¯s car. She had sealed the artifact inside the engine, amidst a prison of pistons and sutras keeping it safely imprisoned. Her worried expression turned into a smile once her friends entered the room. ¡°Have we settled on a new destination, Honored Conductor Yuan?¡±

    ¡°We need to take the cube somewhere nobody will find it,¡± Yuan replied. After the Khan¡¯s nuclear stunt, he knew it was only a matter of time before rumors spread and would-be warlords started investigating the source of this vicious power. ¡°Kaguya¡¯s bound to contact us about it soon.¡±

    ¡°Will we give it to her?¡± Orient asked with a frown.

    ¡°No.¡± Yuan shook his head. ¡°No sect should have this kind of power.¡±

    ¡°Personally, I agree that no one should wield it, Honored Conductor Yuan.¡± Orient glared at the cube¡¯s prison with apprehension. ¡°I can feel its prisoner¡¯s malice leaking out like magma. No good will ever come out of using the creature.¡±

    Yuan studied the seal. ¡°You¡¯re sure it won¡¯t escape?¡±

    ¡°Not unless we intentionally release it ourselves,¡± Orient replied. ¡°I have detected mechanisms woven into the cube that would partially allow such a thing, which I assume the Khan used to fire his arrow of light. I haven¡¯t dared to delve any further.¡±

    ¡°Wise,¡± Yuan commented. They shouldn¡¯t mess with something they did not understand. ¡°Did you find a gun near me among the ruins?¡±

    ¡°I did.¡± Orient presented him with a familiar, sutra-laced revolver. ¡°It was blasted to pieces, but Miss Holster and I managed to piece it back together.¡±

    Yuan took the gun and studied it without a word. His silence bothered Holster and Orient.

    ¡°Is something wrong?¡± the latter asked him.

    ¡°No, nothing,¡± Yuan reassured her. ¡°Thank you. I¡¯d just expected another weapon.¡±

    He had hoped against all odds that his old handgun had survived Slash¡¯s death and Manhattan¡¯s Authority. In all likelihood, it had been vaporized in the battle.

    Yuan found it fitting, in a sad way. His old handgun represented the beginning and the end of his human existence. It perished for good alongside Slash. Although he mourned the weapon like an old friend, its destruction gave him a sense of closure.

    At least his revolver had survived the battle. Hoster had put a lot of effort into upgrading it, and it was a gift from Revolver himself. Yuan would have been loath to lose it too.

    Yuan had expected to reach a state of contentment after taking his revenge. Putting a bullet in Slash¡¯s head had been the driving force of his existence since he rose from the grave. Killing him did provide a brief flash of satisfaction and the pride of ridding the wasteland of the Yinyang Khan, but little else.

    Thankfully, it didn¡¯t take Yuan long to figure out what he should do next.

    Yuan told him as he glanced at Holster. He hadn¡¯t given up on curing her, nor would he ever.

    He also recalled Arc¡¯s final request, to end it all. The Gun, the Nuke, the Blade, and the other Demigods of Ultraviolence. He wasn¡¯t certain how he would fulfill that wish of hers, but he owed it to her to at least try. She did give her life for the cause.

    ¡°Did Arc leave us anything?¡± Yuan asked. ¡°She said she would give us the location of a Dragon Sage who could help us.¡±

    ¡°She indeed entrusted me with that information, and an inheritance.¡± Orient snapped her fingers, and an engine compartment opened up to reveal a small letter and a silver bullet. ¡°I haven¡¯t checked its content, Honored Conductor Yuan. I assume it was meant for you alone.¡±

    Yuan examined the gifts with curiosity. The letter was indeed written in the common language and addressed to him. As for the silver bullet, every inch of it was wrapped up in carved sutras. He could feel Arc¡¯s qi inside it.

    He knew for whom that projectile was meant; or rather, .

    ¡°When did she give you this?¡± Yuan asked.

    ¡°Before the History Road race,¡± Orient replied. ¡°I suspect she anticipated her demise.¡±

    It would make sense for someone so far-sighted to prepare for their death.

    Yuan carefully opened the letter and read its contents in respectful silence.

 Chapter 75: Aiming for the End

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    Yuan closed the letter and stared at the bullet wrapped within it. Arc¡¯s legacy.

    Hope wrapped in a lump of lead.

    When night fell upon the ruins of Battletown, Yuan waited atop a pile of rubbles under the black moonlight with Arc¡¯s bullet in his hand.

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    Little more than blasted ruins remained of the Yinyang Khan¡¯s stronghold. The devastation reminded Yuan of Fleshmarket, though he guessed it could have been worse. Orient and Holster¡¯s alterations to the Khan¡¯s artificial leyline hastened the land¡¯s purification. Manhattan¡¯s leftover radioactive fallout would be cleaned by tomorrow and allow survivors to loot what they could.

    However, another threat lingered among the blasted piles of concrete and molten iron: pale, emaciated figures haunting the ruins of the slave market, banging their heads on hastily-drawn Barriers meant to keep them contained away from refugee camps.

    Yuan had seen a few hungry ghosts in the past, and they always struck him as pitiful; bitter shadows yearning for the life they had lost and bound by the burden of unfinished business. In a way, it helped Yuan appreciate his own ephemeral existence more. Perhaps that was part of the Deathsong¡¯s reason for bringing this change into the world, alongside forcing the living to take care of the dead.

    Since it would take too long to individually bury corpses, Orient and Holster had suggested an alternative solution: they would alter the artificial leyline to cause a collapse of the land, burying Battletown and the History Road in a single Last Rites ritual. This would bury all of Battletown, let the hungry ghosts rest, and allow the trapped Human Pillars sustaining the leyline to finally move on to their afterlife.

    They would destroy the Yinyang Khan¡¯s legacy in an instant. In a few years, few would likely remember his tyranny.

    Yuan wouldn¡¯t say that killing Slash fully satisfied him¡ªespecially considering the cost he had to pay to settle the score¡ªbut breaking the Khan¡¯s and the Flesh Mansion Sect¡¯s hold over this part of the wasteland did provide a sense of accomplishment. He had diminished their ability to terrorize the region; perhaps cripplied it for good.

    Yuan sensed his visitor approaching him, her umbrella gently gliding down on the night wind.

    ¡°My condolences for your loss,¡± Kaguya said. ¡°I was not personally acquainted with Lady Arc, but she was a valiant soul. I hope she finds peace in her new life.¡±

    ¡°So do I.¡± Since she hadn¡¯t left a hungry ghost, Yuan assumed that she died content. ¡°You¡¯re here for the cube?¡±

    The Moonlight cultivator smiled upon him. ¡°Will you surrender it to me if I ask nicely?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Yuan replied bluntly.

    ¡°I figured as much.¡± Kaguya took the rejection in stride. ¡°Frankly, it doesn¡¯t matter to us who holds the cube so long as they won¡¯t use it. We simply wished to keep it out of the Khan¡¯s hands and those of nuclear cultivators who would have inevitably unleashed the Nuke trapped inside.¡±

    ¡°So you won¡¯t interfere with us?¡± Yuan remained extremely wary. Neither he nor Arc trusted sects. ¡°My mentor¡¯s last wish was that I keep the cube away from grasping hands. I¡¯m never going to change my mind.¡±

    ¡°If you wish to take on the burden of guarding the artifact, then no, we won¡¯t disturb your vigil.¡± Kaguya chuckled lightly. ¡°We may even warn you of threats from time to time. Some Lost Age secrets are best left forgotten.¡±

    ¡°I will require more than promises.¡±

    ¡°Do you want us to form an Unspeakable Vow?¡± Kaguya asked. ¡°We can swear not to seek out the cube so long as you promise to do everything in your power to keep the Nuke contained.¡±

    That would be appreciated. Enough enemies would come for the cube in time; Yuan didn¡¯t wish to add the Moonlight Sect to their ranks. A vow would secure their neutrality at least.

    Nonetheless, Yuan desired more than to contain the cube¡¯s prisoner.

    ¡°Is there any way to destroy the Nuke?¡± Yuan asked. He would rather find a more permanent solution to that particular problem. ¡°You said all Paths contained the seed of their demigod¡¯s destruction.¡±

    ¡°I spoke true. If you find a friendly nuclear cultivator, then an option will present itself should you figure it out.¡± Kaguya shrugged under the moonlight. ¡°Good luck with that though. Kind and selfless nuclear cultivators are like shooting stars, awfully rare and usually short-lived.¡±

    ¡°But they exist.¡± Mordiggian knew at least one. ¡°If I find one willing to help destroy the Nuke¡­ then perhaps we could live in peace.¡±

    ¡°As long as you are with them, Gunsoul, your companions will be safe,¡± Kaguya warned him gravely. ¡°The Gun will come for you soon enough.¡±

    Yuan¡¯s bullet-core pounded in his skull. His gut told him a reckoning was at hand. ¡°How do you know that?¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you find it strange that the Gun engaged you and Revolver in battle after his own murderer perished in the bombardment?¡± Kaguya asked. The fact she had been observing the disaster hardly surprised Yuan. ¡°Once a Gunsoul has fulfilled the quest for which they rose from the dead for, then the Gun comes to challenge them to battle. So goes the cycle that sustains your existence.¡±

    Revolver had told Yuan once he arose from the dead.

    Yuan guessed that a part of him knew this would happen once he killed Slash. The Gun had granted him time and power to settle the score against the promise of a duel. It had delivered its end of the bargain, and Yuan would have to pay the price for it.

    ¡°What about Arc?¡± he asked. ¡°She killed her murderer years ago and fended off the Gun anyway. Is she an outlier?¡±

    ¡°Once Lady Arc killed her own tormentor, the Gun started hounding her relentlessly across the wasteland. She did her best to keep it at bay and destroy it, but she only ever managed to buy time; time that came at the cost of her friend.¡± Kaguya let out a shrug. ¡°I also suspect the Gun lost interest in her after she cracked her core too. She was no longer a fitting vessel and existed on borrowed time.¡±

    Yuan barely considered the possibility. Cracking his bullet-core would likely kill him. Even Arc required a leyline¡¯s worth of qi to stabilize herself as a Fifth Coil cultivator, and Yuan hadn¡¯t yet reached the power to linger as she did.

    He couldn¡¯t change his Path either. He had already dedicated himself to the Gun Path when he crossed the Fourth Coil. Fighting the Gun had always been the inevitable outcome of this choice.

    Yuan had made his bed and would now sleep in it

    ¡°What does it want?¡± Yuan wondered. ¡°The Gun? Just to spread death?¡±

    ¡°It wants the same thing as all cultivators,¡± Kaguya replied while waving her hand at the moon above them. ¡°To join with the Dao and become the underlying principle of reality itself. It seeks to create a universe where death by firearm is no longer a , but a cruel . Only then will its unending appetite for murder be satiated.¡±

    And since each Gunsoul host was technically stronger than the last, every reincarnation got the Gun closer to the heavens. It might take decades or centuries, but it would inevitably hitch a ride all the way to the Dao.

    Yuan refused to let him or Revolver die as mere chinks in an endless chain.

    ¡°Will this bullet work?¡± Yuan asked Kaguya as he presented Arc¡¯s masterpiece. ¡°Will it free Revolver from the curse if I can land the Perfect Shot?¡±

    ¡°Only a Gunsoul can destroy the Gun, and the Perfect Shot prophecy may one day be fulfilled, but will it be by your hands or that or another? , I cannot say.¡± Kaguya studied him closely. ¡°If you wish to clear your mind, I can arrange a meeting.¡±

    Yuan squinted at her. ¡°A meeting with ?¡±

    ¡°Your friend.¡± Kaguya looked at the wasteland and the distant landmarks of History Road. ¡°He¡¯s in a lucid mood for now¡­ and much closer than you think.¡±

 Chapter 76: Revolver

    Kaguya took his hand, turned her umbrella, and then they were gone.

    The shift happened so suddenly and so seamlessly that he hardly noticed the location had changed until he saw piles of debris turn into small sunbaked walls surrounding weathered stone dwellings. Battletown was gone, replaced with a small village¡¯s entrance.

    A mountain with four faces stood in the distance across the brown dry landscape. Yuan recognized it as one of the History Road¡¯s landmarks; one of those he hadn¡¯t reached before the race came to an end, but which he helped Orient and Holster alter. The former called it or something; Yuan assumed the monument was dedicated to four Sect Patriarchs from the Lost Age, who severely looked down on their disciples.

    They weren¡¯t even a day¡¯s ride away from Battletown.

    The realization sent a chill down Yuan¡¯s iron spine. Kaguya¡¯s words rang true; the Gun was closer than he thought.

    ¡°A teleportation technique?¡± he muttered under his breath.

    ¡°We Moonlighters can visit any place or anyone touched by our Lord¡¯s radiance,¡± Kaguya explained. ¡°Nothing that happens under the moonlight escapes us.¡±

    Yuan scoffed. ¡°So your Wayfinder is a cosmic voyeur?¡±

    ¡°If people wish to keep secrets from our Lord, they shouldn¡¯t reveal anything in front of his eye, don¡¯t you think?¡± Kaguya¡¯s mischievous smile swiftly faded away. ¡°Beware your words and deeds. His moment of clarity won¡¯t last long. Any rash action will trigger the Gun.¡±

    Yes. Yuan knew it all too well.

    He felt it too. His bullet-core pounded in his skull in alarm, like a prey sensing the presence of a lurking predator. It wasn¡¯t as intense as the time the Gun visited Fleshmarket, but it was still disquieting; that, and the twin smells of gunsmoke and blood hanging in the air.

    The village was silent too. It was small, hardly large enough to host half a hundred souls, but it should have had guards, or at least someone keeping watch. Yet the only sounds in the air were Kaguya¡¯s tense breath and the noise of Yuan¡¯s steps.

    The Moonlight Sect cultivator didn¡¯t follow him into the village. Neither did she try to stop him. Yuan walked into narrow, winding alleys squeezed between walls riddled with smoking new holes. He grabbed his revolver and loaded it

    Some of the houses¡¯ doors had been smashed open and others barricaded. Neither saved anyone. Yuan detected traces of blood staining red clay and bricks.

    He found his first corpse in a small plaza; a man shot in the back of the head with such force that his skull exploded atop his shoulders. More followed, pieces of meat left rotting without a care.

    Men.

    Women.

    .

    Even goats had been shot dead in their pens, alongside the dog meant to protect them. The corpses of cultivators bearing the Khan¡¯s insignia had been thrown across walls and often suffered multiple shots. They had likely been instructed by their master to keep the peace among his tributaries, but from what Yuan could pick up from the scene, their futile struggle barely earned them a few more seconds of life.

    Their killer had never slowed down.

    That massacre was very different from Fleshmarket¡¯s destruction. It was more personal, more intimate, more calculated¡­ but no less gruesome. This was the work of a merciless gunslinger rather than an indiscriminate artillery bombardment, though both were different expressions of the same evil.

    A monstrous qi guided Yuan through the open grave until he reached a stone terrace. A power cruiser lay with smoking wheels in wait next to four fresh corpses.

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    Revolver stood on a floor of stone, his back turned on Yuan and his head looking up at the moon.

    His blood-soaked clothes had taken on a deep shade of red, almost black. A dark poncho covered his shoulders, and at a certain point, its strands turned into shadowy gunsmoke carried by the breeze. His left hand had transformed into a metallic, cybernetic gauntlet with claws for fingers. His right hand carried a revolver whose skull-plated barrel was still smoking from the recent firefight.

    His qi was different from the last time they¡¯d met too. It was , and malevolent, but also strangely quiet; like a deceptively still oil lake that could catch fire at any time. If Revolver had noticed Yuan, he didn¡¯t show any hint of it.

    Yuan hesitated a moment, then opened his mouth. ¡°Revol¨C¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t take another step, Yuan.¡±

    Yuan stopped dead in his tracks. His old savior¡¯s words reverberated with gunfire and an inhuman metallic echo, the same as the Gun who attacked in Fleshmarket.

    ¡°If you do¡­¡± Revolver muttered, his back still turned on Yuan. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be able to contain it.¡±

    Yuan tightened his grip on his gun. He was tempted to shoot Revolver with Arc¡¯s bullet and then hope for the best, but the pressure in the air prevented him from making a move. Revolver¡¯s qi stirred with menace. The demon within him was asleep, but any threat of violence would wake it from its slumber.

    A tense silence followed, which Revolver broke first.

    ¡°I keep having the same nightmare,¡± he said softly. ¡°I ride on my cruiser, driving into the wasteland. I hear pulses in the air. Heartbeats pounding in the distance. I hear laughs, cries, words, the sounds of life.¡±

    Revolver turned his head slightly, his neck making a clicking noise as it moved. Yuan caught a glimpse of shining eyes of crimson light gazing at the corpses surrounding them.

    ¡°I can¡¯t make sense of them, but I follow them anyway all the way to their source,¡± Revolver said, his voice heavy with guilt. ¡°Then I grab my revolver and the laughs turn to screams.¡±

    Yuan¡¯s jaw clenched in sympathy. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    ¡°Are you?¡± Revolver raised his weapon closer to his face and examined it. ¡°I don¡¯t enjoy it, but I don¡¯t hate it either. I kill like I breathe. I am a thing of point and direction, of aim and targets. I deliver death because that¡¯s what I .¡± His voice grew wearier, sadder. ¡°I fought to free slaves from their masters once, but now I kill them both. Old, young, rich, poor, Scraps and cultivators¡­ They all look the same at the barrel¡¯s end.¡±

    It had been weeks since Revolver became the Gun. How many settlements had he wiped out during that time?

    Yuan wasn¡¯t certain he wanted to hear the answer to that question.

    ¡°Then I wake up, surrounded by the dead, alone with my guilt and pain.¡± Revolver lowered his weapon. ¡°I try to stay awake, to stay put¡­ but it¡¯s so , and the evil within doesn¡¯t stay satiated forever. I fall asleep before I know it, and then I ride off into a new nightmare.¡± S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Revolver finally turned to face Yuan. His face had become a skull of black iron, his rounded hat hiding a barrel stuck in the middle of his forehead. His eyes had transformed into two shining crimson stars filled with deep and profound .

    ¡°If you have any pity for me, Yuan, then kill me ¡± Revolver said, . ¡°I can¡¯t take it anymore.¡±

    A knot formed in Yuan¡¯s metal stomach. He had seen Revolver face the likes of Polio and the Gun with defiance and determination. To hear him sound so beaten, so It crushed Yuan¡¯s heart.

    The previous Gun had begged Arc for death too, the very same way Revolver now prayed for oblivion. And who could blame them? To be worn like a glove by a demon born of death, to become a soulless weapon sowing death across the wasteland and stopping only to wallow in despair sounded like a truly miserable existence. A true hell on earth.

    Arc hadn¡¯t been able to give her old friend the peace he craved, and neither could Yuan provide it to Revolver.

    He could feel it in his gut. His instinct told him that using Arc¡¯s bullet now would fail, somehow. The time and place weren¡¯t right. It would just result in a fight that Yuan could only lose and more regrets.

    He wasn¡¯t ready yet.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but¡­ not now,¡± Yuan apologized. The moment hadn¡¯t come yet. He could feel it in his metal bones. ¡°I¡¯ve¡­ I¡¯ve made up my mind though.¡±

    ¡°I see¡­¡± Revolver held his skull with his metal hand. ¡°These moments of consciousness, Yuan¡­ they become shorter and shorter. Soon, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be able to wake up from the nightmare anymore. I¡¯ll sleepwalk my way through endless slaughter.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll free you from this curse,¡± Yuan promised with a heavy heart. ¡°One way¡­ or another.¡±

    Yuan owed him that for saving his life once. He hoped he could break the curse, but if not¡­ if not, at least Revolver would find rest.

    ¡°When I lose control again, the Gun will come for you.¡± Revolver studied Yuan, his crimson gaze flaring in the moonlight. ¡°It wants to you. It wants to kill your .¡±

    A chill traveled down Yuan¡¯s spine, but he showed no fear. He had never been one to back down from a challenge. ¡°When you come for me, Revolver, I¡¯ll be ready. I promise you.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t an Unspeakable Vow, but he would fulfill it nonetheless.

    Revolver listened in silence, then offered Yuan a short, sharp nod. ¡°Go,¡± he said somberly. ¡°While you still have hope.¡±

    Yuan left without another word, sensing Revolver¡¯s gaze on his back all the way to the village¡¯s exit. They both knew a simple truth.

    The next time they met, only one of them might walk away.

 Chapter 77: Last Safeties (+Book Launch on Amazon)

    Yuan watched Battletown sink below the oil waves from his window, with Holster clapping her hands on his lap.

    An earthquake had followed the triggering of History Road¡¯s last ritual, one strong enough to shake the entire region. The spirit-train had long departed the area by then, but they could still feel the tremors from miles away.

    The spectacle started at dawn with blazing fireworks. The History Road landmarks all glowed at once brighter than stars and formed a circle of light that engulfed Battletown¡¯s ruins. More qi than Yuan had ever sensed in his life rippled through the circuit and shattered the road on which it was built. The very land sank under a tide of sand and mud that buried all the monuments under the earth. A good chunk of the region then collapsed into the nearby Oil Sea, bringing out a black flood that washed away everything.

    The cataclysm lasted mere minutes, yet easily buried years of work and construction. It only heightened the magnitude of the gulf that separated Arc and Manhattan from Yuan. Neither of these two required such an extensive setup to lay waste to the world.

    If Yuan hoped to defeat the Gun, he would have to double down on his training. Time was already running out.

    ¡°I know that I should not rejoice at a settlement¡¯s destruction,¡± Orient noted as they watched the devastation from her locomotive¡¯s seats with Holster and Gotama. ¡°However, I believe I will make an exception in this case.¡±

    ¡°Good riddance,¡± Yuan agreed. He was glad that all the corpses piled up under that cursed fiefdom¡¯s foundations would finally find rest; every survivor worth rescuing had already been evacuated outside the devastation¡¯s range after they scavenged everything they could recover from Battletown. Holster appeared to agree too, her eyes wide open with fascination as she watched the destruction.

    Nonetheless, Yuan¡¯s eyes couldn¡¯t help but wonder at the horizon. Although Mount Rushfort and its nearby village had sunk below the waves, he knew better than to expect Revolver to have followed suit.

    He couldn¡¯t tell how long his old ally could hold back the Gun within him to resume its pursuit. It took a city-sized firefight and the presence of three Gunsouls in Fleshmarket¡¯s premises to push the demigod of ultraviolence to action, and it hadn¡¯t made a move even after Manhattan had wiped out most of Battletown¡¯s population. Maybe its aggression varied depending on how many deaths by firearms fueled its bloodthirst.

    Whatever the case, Yuan knew better than to expect a long respite.

    Yuan glanced at Holster and Orient. ¡°There¡¯s, ugh¡­¡± Yuan¡¯s heart sank as the two looked at him. ¡°There¡¯s something I have to tell the two of you. Something important.¡± S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    A strange look passed over Orient¡¯s face, which she quickly hid with a smile. ¡°Before you do, Honored Conductor Yuan, I would like to show you something, if you don¡¯t mind.¡±

    ¡°No, of course not,¡± Yuan replied. ¡°What is it?¡±

    To his surprise, Orient summoned a table between their seats and placed a board of wood on it, alongside dozens of strange pieces representing Longs, martial artists, spirits, and other fantastical creatures.

    ¡°Bucket found this among the ruins of Battletown,¡± Orient explained while Holster studied the pieces with fascination. ¡°According to him, this is a game called ¡®.¡¯¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard of it,¡± Yuan replied. It was popular among sect disciples, though Elders looked down on it and preferred the game of go instead. ¡°You play as sects fighting wars with figurines.¡±

    Holster¡¯s eyes immediately brightened and she began to look at Yuan insistently, much to Orient¡¯s amusement.

    ¡°I knew it would please Miss Holster,¡± she said with a small chuckle. ¡°It has been a long time since we had the opportunity to unwind, especially after all these fights. I thought we would all appreciate a moment of levity.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I¡­ I suppose it would be fun,¡± Yuan conceded. He knew he had lost that battle the moment Holster grabbed a Long figurine and gripped it tightly. ¡°Yes, you can play the dragons.¡±

    Holster¡¯s smile dispelled all his doubts.

    ¡°So,¡± Orient said, clapping her hands in happiness as the three of them took position around the board, with Gotama jumping up into and meowing on Holster¡¯s lap. ¡°If Conductor Bucket is right, the rules are very simple to grasp¡­¡±

    They dropped Mel, Hardy, and Duckman off near a hill to the west by midday.

    Yuan had spent the trip playing with his friends and grew to like it a lot. He had never understood the appeal of board games before, since he, Jaw-Long and Mingxia usually played with dice, but the mix of strategy and unit abilities resonated with his cultivator instincts. A part of him craved the feeling of finding the right move combination that would secure victory, though he and Orient let Holster win more often than not.

    He knew he was wasting precious time he could have spent training, but playing with Holster and Orient put him in such a good mood. He hadn¡¯t felt that way since he crossed his last Coil.

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    It was¡­ it was . The last time he had played with a group game was with his old crew; he had missed those moments.

    ¡°It¡¯s been a pleasure riding with you, Yuan,¡± Mel told him as he and his brother took the wheels on their cars and started their engines. ¡°We¡¯ll find our way home from here.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for dragging our cars out so far and repairing them, M¡¯lady Orient,¡± Hardy added. ¡°I know you were short on space.¡±

    ¡°Think nothing of it,¡± Orient replied kindly.

    ¡°Will you two be okay?¡± Yuan asked. They had recovered enough to walk on their own, though they still wore bandages. ¡°Things are going to get pretty hot around these parts with the Yinyang Khan dead.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯re used to racing to the top.¡± Mel gave him a thumbs up. ¡°I¡¯d wager we can do some good out there, keep the peace. Can¡¯t let you do all the work.¡±

    ¡°Just keep that cube thing out of the wrong hands, would you?¡± Hardy asked. ¡°I would strap it to an anchor and throw it into the Oil Sea if I were you.¡±

    ¡°That won¡¯t solve everything in the long term, but you have my word we¡¯ll keep it safe,¡± Yuan promised with a salute. ¡°Take care. I hope we¡¯ll meet again one day.¡±

    ¡°Same,¡± Mel replied before giving Duckman a look. ¡°Need a lift?¡±

    ¡°Duckman has no need for vehicles, Duckman can fly,¡± Duckman replied proudly, his eyes meeting Yuan¡¯s. ¡°Gunsoul.¡±

    Yuan¡¯s head perked up. The boastful cultivator sounded strangely grim and serious.

    ¡°You are a fighter worthy of respect,¡± the birdman said with sincerity. ¡°If you seek glorious death in battle, Duckman will help anytime.¡±

    While Orient glared at him, Yuan simply scoffed at his bravado. The birdman flew away soon after while the Dyad brothers drove across the wasteland and towards the horizon.

    The spirit-train left not a minute after. LaChair alone elected to stay onboard the spirit-train, mostly because Orient agreed to repurpose one of the wagons into a clinic. Yuan suspected the Flesh Mansion cultivator simply found it much easier to travel with an armed group while keeping his own space, and having a doctor onboard would be a boon for the passengers.

    ¡°I still think we should have left that awful Duckman to fend off for himself,¡± Orient said as she and Yuan walked alone together back to the front of the train. ¡°I cannot stand rude passengers.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll ever see him again,¡± Yuan replied, a knot forming in his stomach. ¡°Orient.¡±

    Orient frowned at him. ¡°Honored Conductor Yuan?¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t stop for long,¡± Yuan noted. ¡°You were in a hurry to leave.¡±

    ¡°I thought it best not to linger too long, knowing Miss Holster¡¯s condition,¡± Orient replied calmly. ¡°If Mister LaChair is to be believed, the sooner we reach this Dragon Sage, the better her chances of recovery.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s true enough,¡± Yuan conceded. ¡°But that¡¯s not all either.¡±

    Orient had become much more human since she first formed a humanoid avatar, enough that Yuan often forgot that she wasn¡¯t born as one. Nonetheless, she wore her emotions on her sleeve. He saw her unease written all over her face.

    Spirits couldn¡¯t lie by nature. To lie to another required the ability to lie to oneself first, and unlike mortals who wavered and doubted, a spirit knew their purpose from the moment of their birth with the utmost certainty. The best a caretaker could do to confuse an audience was to either withhold information or use half-truths.

    He could only see one reason why Orient would try to keep information from him.

    ¡°You know the Gun is after me,¡± Yuan guessed. ¡°You can sense it stalking us.¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± Orient confessed with an all too human sigh. ¡°But there is no need to inform Miss Holster. It will crush her.¡±

    As he suspected, the timing of the board game had been anything other than a mere coincidence.

    ¡°She has to know,¡± Yuan said softly. He didn¡¯t want to tell her, but the sooner she learned the truth, the more time she would have to accept it should the worst come to pass. ¡°We can¡¯t keep it from her forever.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Orient joined her hands together, her head held high. ¡°I can stay in motion forever, Honored Conductor Yuan. I can satisfy our passengers¡¯ need for food and water, and without Lady Arc¡¯s presence onboard, I have no need to stop or slow down. Should we constantly stay on the move, the Gun will never catch up to you.¡±

    ¡°The Gun is than you, Orient,¡± Yuan pointed out. He had seen the monster cross wide distances in the blink of an eye, and Arc¡¯s words rang true: the Gun came to pick up its bullets. ¡°We¡¯d only be delaying the inevitable.¡±

    ¡°But if we can delay it , then it will happen.¡± Orient¡¯s expression turned into a scowl of deep distress. She couldn¡¯t lie to herself. ¡°I mourn the loss of any passenger, but you and Miss Holster are¡­ you are very special to me.¡±

    A small drop of liquid formed at the edge of her eyes. Something oily and black, like engine fuel, but it carried too much salt for any engine.

    Tears.

    Orient had become human enough to .

    ¡°The thought of losing the two of you fills me with a deep sense of unease,¡± Orient muttered, her fingers covering her mouth. ¡°Knowing that this vile creature is hunting you, and what fate will befall you should it catch you¡­ The thought is .¡±

    Yuan froze for a moment, unsure how to react. Fighting was easy and killing even more so, but distress and emotions did not come easily to him. He tried to think of the best way to comfort Orient before realizing he shouldn¡¯t think at all.

    Hesitantly, Yuan opened his arms and welcomed Orient into a tight hug. It was clumsy, but the spirit returned the gesture all the same. Her head rested on his shoulder. He gripped her tightly, waiting for her to calm down.

    Orient¡¯s sanitized perfume-like smell soothed Yuan¡¯s heart somehow. She felt so fragile in his arms.

    ¡°Orient,¡± Yuan whispered in her ear once she had stopped sobbing. ¡°I¡¯m determined to win, but should the worst come to pass¡­ should the worst come to pass, you¡¯ll need to promise me that you will watch over Holster. Bring her to that dragon sage and ensure she¡¯s cured so she can grow up in peace. Promise me that.¡±

    ¡°Then promise me that you will win in return, Yuan,¡± Orient begged him. Yuan immediately noticed that she had called him by his name, without a title. ¡°Promise me that you will win and return to us alive. For our sake.¡±

    Yuan knew such words would be empty. He had no guarantee he could defeat the Gun, let alone survive to tell the tale.

    But knowing that Orient cared so much for his well-being only made him more determined to win. She and Holster cared for him deeply, and the feeling was mutual. He refused to fail, to abandon them to fend off for themselves alone in the Unmade World¡¯s wasteland.

    For their sake, he to prevail. He prevail. He would nail that Perfect Shot, free Revolver, and then return to his crew victorious.

    ¡°I promise,¡± Yuan swore. ¡°I¡¯ll win. For Holster, and¡­ for you too.¡±

    Orient gripped him tightly, and both fell into a comfortable silence.

    There was nothing more to be said.

 Chapter 78: Sunset Drive

    Arc had been right: altering himself came easier now that he had crossed the Fourth Coil.

    Since his soul and body were now aligned with the concept of ¡®firearm¡¯ and all of its components, shifting from metal to gunsmoke felt like water being transformed into steam: almost natural.

    As he cycled inside the metal wagon until his entire self became gaseous mist, his senses faded away until only his awareness of qi remained. Gunsmoke didn¡¯t have eyes, a nose, or fingers to touch objects with; only his spiritual senses let him perceive the world around him. His gun and clothes merged with his insubstantial form, perhaps because the technique considered them extensions of himself.

    Yuan couldn¡¯t quite explain this state of being. He felt more fragile than ever, and his core¡¯s hold on his body had become so incredibly weak that it took a lot of willpower just to keep himself from breaking apart into smaller pieces. A gust of wind could send him spiraling away. The mental effort and qi expenditure were extremely high too.

    But on the other hand, Yuan felt that nothing could actually harm him. While Arc once warned him that his transformation made him especially vulnerable to spiritual attacks, most physical blows would phase through him. Being able to float around and slip through cracks could also have its uses.

    Yuan canceled the technique and returned to his physical form. He had managed to continuously keep it up for about half a minute, much longer than Toshiro¡¯s second-long use of his ability. The transformation itself hardly took an instant to unfold.

    Nonetheless, Yuan doubted he would use the technique for so long. His gunsmoke form prevented him from attacking, and his invulnerability to physical hits came at the cost of exposing his core or risking being blown away by a strong breeze. For all of his boasting, Toshiro¡¯s tactic of using it as a short-lived defense against incoming attacks seemed to be his best option.

    ¡°Since it¡¯s an evolution of Black Haze¡­¡± Yuan wondered out loud. ¡°How about calling it¡­ Black Mist? Black Smoke?¡±

    ¡°How about Black Mirage?¡± Orient¡¯s voice asked lightly from the walls, which caused Yuan to look up at the ceiling. ¡°My apologies if I startled you, Yuan. I¡­ I thought you were used to me watching.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± Yuan noticed that she had started calling him by his name, without the honorifics. ¡°I like Black Mirage. It sounds good.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m happy you think that way.¡± An awkward silence followed. Yuan could almost feel Orient¡¯s nervousness in the air. ¡°I will leave you to your meditation.¡±

    Yuan nodded and took her suggestion to heart. The desire to avoid an uncomfortable conversation did for his focus.

    Things had been awkward with Orient since their last hug, mostly because their last moment together had been rather¡­ . Yuan still hadn¡¯t figured out what he should do about it, and he guessed Orient hadn¡¯t either.

    In fact, Yuan wasn¡¯t even certain what happened in the first place. He did have moments of camaraderie with Jaw-Long and Mingxia in the past, and even hugged them at times, but never so¡­ .

    Arc did call Orient his girlfriend in her final letter and suggested he make a move on her. It sounded like teasing to Yuan, although he began to wonder if she might have had a point. He had never let any woman get close enough to him to start a relationship with, let alone a spirit. Were they even capable of that kind of love? And if so, should he return it?

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    Yuan banished these thoughts from his mind. He guessed he would figure it out he dealt with the Gun. Orient was driving at full speed across the wasteland, but he knew her best efforts would only delay the inevitable. Yuan had to use every moment to prepare. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Yuan spent the next couple hours focusing on qi bullet frequency. Having successfully combined two during his fight with Slash through sheer trial and error, he only had to reverse-engineer the process to gain a better understanding of it.

    Yuan had thought that he imbued that particular projectile with two qi frequencies in synchronization to apply both effects at once, but reexamining his technique showed him otherwise. Instead, he had accidentally created a new frequency that with one effect and with the other.

    The more he considered the process, the more Yuan began to visualize it like a music script. The key was to pre-charge a bullet with a specific qi frequency that would change and evolve once fired. The bullet that slew Slash followed a very specific gun song: one that started with the armor-ignoring effect of a Kalash Angel and finished with the qi-charged explosion of a revolver.

    If there was a way to apply multiple effects in one go, then Yuan still hadn¡¯t found it; but this method worked fine on its own. If he timed the ¡®qi song¡¯ right, then Yuan could achieve an extremely powerful combination. Shotgun shells caused shrapnel to explode upon launch; if he combined them with a qi-charged revolver bullet, then it would magnify the power tenfold.

    Even better, why should he stop with just two effects? Starting the frequency script with the armor-ignoring ability, then following with the shotgun explosion, and finishing with the qi-charged revolver blast would create a projectile that could bypass armor and then erupt in a mighty detonation a target¡¯s body.

    Yuan thought as he experimented with charging various materialized bullets with various qi scripts.

    Charging bullets wasn¡¯t too difficult in itself, but timing the series of events demanded a certain dexterity and foresight. Putting the qi-charged explosion before an armor-ignoring effect would amount to nothing, though Yuan supposed a shotgun shrapnel explosion followed by the latter could impair some foes.

    He spent a good hour or so experimenting with various combinations through Item Materialization. Thankfully, he quickly found that he could alter the ¡®Gunsong¡¯¡ªthat was the best name Yuan could come up with for the technique¡ªso it would only trigger either on impact or when he fired the pre-prepared bullet. A few shots also confirmed that the effect could stack with his revolver¡¯s unique sutra elemental infusions.

    The number of combinations boggled the mind. If Yuan infused a bullet with fire to multiply an explosion''s power, or put the armor-ignoring effect in a wood projectile so its flower would bloom inside an enemy¡¯s flesh¨C

    Thump.

    The faint beat of Yuan¡¯s bullet-core drew him out of his thoughts. It was a subtle pulse, hardly noticeable at first; but then another followed, stronger and pounding like a war drum inside his skull. His entire qi circuit stirred with the nervous dread of a prey sensing a predator on their trail.

    The chase had begun.

    Yuan was back to his feet by the time Orient¡¯s alarm whistle screeched across her wagons. He knew what to expect when he looked through the metal car¡¯s window.

    Orient¡¯s path across the wasteland had led them across a vast desert of sterile stone that seemed to stretch on into the distant mountains. The leyline passed near the ruins of a massive city; a set of crumbling, once towering ¡®skyscrapers¡¯ buildings leaning perilously against one another like dominos cast down by an immense hand. A faint miasma of eerie blue qi filled with the regrets of the dead hovered over its empty streets and cracked bridges. Orient passed by the remains of a station, but did not stop there.

    Gunsmoke thunderclouds covered the empty horizon far behind them, blanketing the red sunset with shades of gray. They encroached closer and closer as a bullet drizzle fell upon the desert. Yuan¡¯s enhanced eyes noticed a small point on the ground below the incoming storm; a cruiser whose fiery wheels raised a cloud of dust hovering over its driver. Though he couldn¡¯t see it, Yuan sensed a malevolent force glaring back at him through the veil.

    The Gun had caught up to them.

 Chapter 79: The End is Nigh

    Orient¡¯s alarm whistle screeched with dread.

    The spirit-train had entered the city, riding phantom trails across the remains of a railroad crossing the entire settlement. She drove as fast as she could, smashing through debris and wrecked vehicles that blocked her path at blinding speed; but it wouldn¡¯t be enough.

    The Gun had always been faster.

    Yuan immediately grabbed his revolver and loaded it to the brim with bullets, while keeping Arc¡¯s final creation in the last chamber. Gunsmoke thunderclouds soon flew over the toppled skyscrapers as their pursuer slowly but surely gained ground on them. Bucket ran into the metal wagon so fast he struggled to breathe beneath his helmet.

    ¡°Sir!¡± His eyes gleamed with fear and panic, the trauma of Fleshmarket¡¯s destruction alive in his gaze. ¡°Sir, is this¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Yuan replied flatly as he locked in the revolver¡¯s cylinder. No need to sugarcoat the dire truth. ¡°Everyone bunkers down, and don¡¯t bother firing back. It won¡¯t work¨C¡±

    His body tensed up instantly, his qi senses detecting a surge of energy coming straight at Orient. Yuan barely had time to throw Bucket to the ground before a bullet hit the locomotive with more power than a missile strike.

    The impact¡¯s sheer power rippled through the entire spirit-train¡¯s length, shattering windows and bending steel. The locomotive nearly derailed, with Orient¡¯s whistle turning into a wail of pain and suffering. Qi smoke erupted from the spirit-train¡¯s front and obscured Yuan¡¯s vision of the outside.

    ¡°Miss Holster!¡± Orient shrieked through the wagon, the fear in her voice sharper than any blade. ¡°Yuan!¡±

    Yuan¡¯s oily blood turned colder than ice. ¡°Go back to the passengers!¡± he told the spooked Bucket before rushing to the locomotive. ¡°Tell everyone to take cover!¡±

    His bullet-core pounded in dread within his skull as he coursed through the remains of Arc¡¯s now unused fire car. The feeling of growing tension at the Gun¡¯s approach paled before Yuan¡¯s concern for his young charge and Orient.

    Why did the Gun strike the locomotive instead of attacking Yuan directly? The Gunsoul had sensed the demigod of ultraviolence¡¯s glare across the distance. His pursuer should have been able to fire at his wagon with no issues. Was it trying to immobilize the spirit-train so it could finish Yuan at its leisure? Or did it pursue another objective?

    A terrible possibility formed in Yuan¡¯s mind as he remembered Revolver¡¯s final warning.

    The Gun was after Holster and Orient.

    Yuan smashed through the locomotive¡¯s door to find it utterly devastated. The Gun¡¯s attack had blown a hole through the right side of the engine room, destroying the walls and part of the roof. The benches and table on which Yuan had played a B&C game only yesterday had been blasted to pieces. Smoke from the engine filled the wagon and flowed out into the air. The area keeping the Cube of Natho sealed had barely avoided destruction.

    ¡°Holster!¡± Yuan shouted in alarm, his qi sight immediately detecting her buried beneath a bench¡¯s rubbles. He tossed them away with one hand to swiftly unveil his charge and Gotama. Her cat had shielded Holster with her body, leaving her shaken but still breathing. ¡°Holster, are you wounded?!¡±

    His charge looked back at him with a mix of fear and relief. Dirt covered her face, and a faint drizzle of blood dripped down from her hair to her cheek. A deep dread seized Yuan as he immediately checked the wound. It was thankfully only superficial, but still worrying. Without Orient¡¯s heavy walls to protect her and her cat¡¯s quick thinking, debris could have hit her in the skull and killed her.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, I¡¯m here,¡± Yuan comforted his charge, holding her against his chest with his free hand. She gripped his clothes so tightly that she almost tore them off. ¡°I¡¯m .¡±

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    Gotama skittishly meowed in alarm at something outside. Yuan¡¯s head snapped sideways to glare at the hole in the engine room with immense fury.

    Far away in the distance, behind four rows of toppled buildings, broken bridges, and collapsed passerelles, stood a highway crossing the ruined city the same way the railroad did.

    Revolver drove across it, his gun pointed at them, waiting for an opening.

    He fired a shot at Yuan and Holster the moment the train passed between two buildings. Yuan immediately pulled Holster behind as the projectile surged through the air, only to hit a Barrier surrounding Orient. Having experienced the Gun¡¯s power once before, she created a shield powerful enough to resist the impact.

    Yet Yuan saw the Gun reload his revolver before vanishing behind a building. He already knew that the next bullet would carry a different qi charge.

    ¡°My barriers won¡¯t hold him off for long!¡± Orient warned Yuan through the loudspeakers, her voice heavy with worry. ¡°If you can blow up the highway, I should be able to outrun him!¡±

    Yuan clenched his jaw. Destroying the highway would hardly win them more than a few seconds¡¯ respite. The Gun didn¡¯t need Revolver¡¯s cruiser nor a clear path to chase them; Yuan suspected that it only used that vehicle because of its current host¡¯s old habits or to save qi for the inevitable confrontation. If it couldn¡¯t drive, the Gun would simply fly after them.

    And Orient was very much aware of it. Her proposal was simply a last-ditch attempt to deny reality, to prevent what she knew was inevitable. And though it tore Yuan apart, a quick look at Holster clutching him with all her strength told him what he had to do.

    Deep down, a part of him always knew it would come to this. His half-life and the happiness it brought him were never meant to last. He had always been a reanimated ghost existing on borrowed time after failing to save his companions.

    Not again.

    This time, he would protect those he cared about. He would ensure his crew survived, and that the cursed artifact which they protected would remain lost forever to the warlords of the world.

    ¡°Holster, stay down,¡± Yuan said gently as he pushed his charge away from him. It proved harder than wrestling with Manhattan. Her grip was , and his hands were so , but he eventually pushed her back. ¡°Take cover.¡±

    Holster began to cry.

    The sight weighed on Yuan¡¯s bullet-core more than Arc¡¯s death or Revolver¡¯s transformation into a monster. It took all of his willpower to look away and soldier on. Her safety, and that of so many others, rested on his shoulders.

    ¡°Orient, drive as far away and as quickly as you can,¡± Yuan said as he walked towards the hole in the wall. ¡°Keep Holster and the cube safe. I¡¯ll hold the Gun back while you make your getaway.¡±

    His foot had reached the locomotive¡¯s edge when he heard a faint voice call out from behind him. He heard two words, two simple words that hit him harder than Manhattan¡¯s fists and Slash¡¯s bullet.

    ¡°Don¡¯t go!¡±

    Yuan froze in place, his feet a step from falling off the spirit-train. His heart wavered for a second, his head peeking over his shoulder to look at the child he had saved.

    ¡°If you go,¡± Holster whispered, her faint voice weak, her hands pleading with him not to leave her alone. ¡°If you go¡­ you will .¡±

    And she was likely right. The odds that Yuan would come back alive were indeed slim, and even if he survived¡­ it might come at a terrible cost that would separate them forever. Part of him that he reconsider, that he close his eyes to reality and stay with the hope that the Gun wished to shatter; that he remain with her and Orient to drive into the sunset, heedless of the hungry death racing after them.

    Yet Yuan Guang had made up his mind long ago.

    His second life as a Gunsoul had been short, but he could ensure that Holster¡¯s would be long.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Yuan conceded, before turning back to face the city outside. ¡°But you¡¯ll live.¡±

    He jumped overboard, gun in hand.

    He waved a Sniper¡¯s Bore barrier around his revolver¡¯s barrel and then fired at the Gun the moment the abomination appeared from behind a building. His projectile hit the highway before the demigod of ultraviolence could fire back, blowing up its cruiser and throwing its rider forward in a disastrous crash.

    Yuan flew through the air with one Recoil Kick after another. The spirit-train continued its course behind him, far too slow for his liking. He could sense Orient¡¯s hesitation in the way her speed diminished slightly, as if expecting him to change his mind and turn back.

    He didn¡¯t.

    Yuan landed upon the highway of a dead city, the concrete trembling beneath his feet. The pieces of Revolver¡¯s cruiser were spread across the road.

    The driver was already back on its feet and turned to face its challenger.

    The Gun offered no word nor threat. Yuan found no traces of Revolver within the creature¡¯s burning glare, no hint of the man he used to be. He didn¡¯t see any fear in its crimson eyes, no recognition; nothing other than his reflection in a cold sniper¡¯s scope, and the mechanical heartlessness of a firing squad about to execute a target.

    The thing in front of Yuan was a soulless killing machine. Death at the end of a barrel.

    Neither of them hesitated.

    The two duelists raised their weapons and fired at one another.

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 Chapter 80: No Country for Gunmen

    The bullets flew across the highway like shooting stars in the night sky.

    The Gun was quicker on the draw, but Yuan had anticipated the shot. Combining the Recoil Shockwave and Black Haze, he swiftly shifted to the left to avoid the impact. The Gun¡¯s projectile missed his head by an inch and hit a building in the background, vaporizing it in an instant.

    The Gun avoided Yuan¡¯s shot the same way he did, the monster¡¯s body sidestepping left and right to the tune of Recoil Shockwaves. The two gunslingers circled each other at blinding speeds across the highway while unloading their weapons. Afterimagines followed in their wake while explosions rocked the crumbling skyscrapers flanking the lanes. Yuan had lost sight of Orient by then and couldn¡¯t afford a split-second of inattention to check on her. He could only hope she managed to flee away to safety.

    When only Arc¡¯s bullet remained inside his revolver, Yuan suddenly switched tactics and lunged at the Gun to engage him in hand-to-hand combat. He closed the gap between them in an instant and punched what used to be Revolver¡¯s face with all his might. He infused his fist with qi and followed up with a mighty Recoil that would have blasted a man to pieces.

    His blow barely made the Gun flinch.

    The monster¡¯s jaw opened to breathe a rattle of gunsmoke, while its cybernetic left hand closed around Yuan¡¯s throat. The Gun leaped off the highway in a mighty Recoil-powered jump with its enemy in its grip. He rammed Yuan¡¯s head against a building¡¯s roof upon landing, the two smashing through half a dozen floors.

    The Gun pointed its revolver at Yuan the moment they landed on a slab of concrete while keeping him bound with his other hand. Yuan immediately counterattacked by opening his mouth and unleashed a mouthful of Dragon¡¯s Breath into the monster¡¯s face. Magnesium-powered flames incinerated the Gun¡¯s skull and briefly repelled him.

    Exploiting his enemy¡¯s brief shock, Yuan grabbed the barrel of the Gun¡¯s revolver between his teeth and swiftly pulled it back, disarming his surprised enemy and sending the firearm flying away. He then pivoted to kick the Gun in the skull. The Recoil-powered blowback sent the demigod back and forced it to release its grip on him.

    Yuan immediately regained his footing and punched the Gun through a window, the two of them crashing onto a crossroad street below.

    The duelists faced each other under a streetlight, surrounded by silence and the ransacked ruins of empty shops. They barely exchanged a glare before they lunged at one another in near-perfect synchronization. The Gun raised its fist to meet Yuan¡¯s own in the middle of the lane. They triggered their Recoil Fists at the same time, metal clashing against metal.

    Yuan felt like he was fighting his mirror.

    The funhouse kind.

    The resulting backlash shattered all windows across the street, cracked the concrete lane, and sent the two fighters flying across the street. The Gun crashed through a wall while Yuan landed more softly in an empty house full of mannequins covered in long-rotten clothes. He briefly wondered if the city¡¯s defenders used them as training dummies before abandoning the settlement or if they served some other purpose in the Lost Age, before deciding he didn¡¯t care either way.

    Yuan knew that his only hope to win was to somehow land the Perfect Shot, but he likely would have to rough up the Gun first. A difficult prospect.

    Yuan analyzed grimly as he rose back on his feet. The Gun had already walked out of its hole. At least there¡¯s no finesse to its blows.

    The Gun¡¯s attacks were simple and predictable, its fists hitting like bullets aiming for a target. Arc had warned him that the demigod¡¯s fighting style depended on its host, and Yuan had never seen Revolver make much use of the Recoil Fist. He might have the edge in close quarters combat. sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Yuan could also pull out Gun Demon Incarnation, but he quickly decided against it. The technique was his trump card, and most importantly, it burned through his qi at an accelerated pace. He couldn¡¯t afford burning out without at least assessing the Gun¡¯s capabilities first. Revolver had barely managed to create his Authority before the Fleshmarket debacle, and Yuan had no idea how much his possession empowered him since.

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    He would hold off Gun Demon Incarnation for the final stretch.

    Holstering his revolver, Yuan ran across the street. The Gun leaped into the air rather than engage him in hand-to-hand combat, bouncing off a streetlight and then flying towards a skyscraper¡¯s roof. Two new revolvers materialized in its hands to replace the one it had lost earlier.

    Yuan used a Recoil-powered jump to close the gap between them in an instant. He punched the Gun in the face before it could fire and sent it flying backward at lightning speed. Yuan immediately realized his mistake when his enemy unloaded its revolvers¡¯ payload at him in midair. Shooting stars faster than sound and stronger than missiles burst out of the twin barrels in a heavenly barrage.

    Yuan immediately retreated by cloaking himself in Black Haze and flying back, then moved behind skyscrapers to use them as shields. The Gun¡¯s shooting stars pulverized entire floors with a single projectile.

    Light illuminated the ruined city again after decades of decay. A firework of cataclysmic proportions rocked it to its foundations. The gunfire song reverberated across the gunsmoke skies as the bombardment turned an entire city block into a hole-riddled piece of concrete cheese. Houses crumbled to dust, bridges collapsed, and skyscrapers fell over.

    The Gun didn¡¯t give Yuan a single chance to close the gap between them again. It fired and fired, its revolvers¡¯ bullet chambers filling themselves on their own. Yuan retaliated by firing projectiles of his own with Item Materialization and Sniper¡¯s Bore, but a combination of distance and him requiring a direct line of sight when he stepped out of a building¡¯s shadow allowed his enemy to dodge them all.

    A Recoil Blast worked better at close range, but Yuan could think of another solution. Landing a Gunsong combo would do the trick.

    Hiding behind a crumbling skyscraper, Yuan assessed the Gun¡¯s location, materialized a bullet, and then charged it with a complex sequence of qi frequencies.

    ¡°Archer¡¯s Glory,¡± Yuan said after repeating the correct mudras, a Barrier forming around his finger and forming a barrel to hold his projectile. The building was already sinking into the ground from the Gun¡¯s bombardment. ¡°Sniper¡¯s Bore.¡±

    His bullet phased through the concrete at lightning speed; and by the time he emerged from behind the crumbling skyscraper, it had emerged from the other side to hit the Gun by surprise.

    Yuan¡¯s bullet struck the demigod of ultraviolence in the chest, then exploded with immense force. The blast interrupted its bombardment and threw it back until it crashed on a concrete tower¡¯s roof.

    Yuan flew over the ruins and narrowed the gap with his enemy. The Gun had quickly risen to its feet atop the skyscraper, its shadowy poncho burning to reveal a cracked steel chest underneath.

    All of Yuan¡¯s attempts to damage the Gun hardly did anything earlier, until this strike. There¡¯s flesh beneath that skin of steel, or at least something that counts for flesh for my technique.

    ¡°Ah¡­¡±

    A screeching noise had come out of the Gun¡¯s mouth, followed by a wave of malevolence.

    Yuan stopped in his tracks as a powerful gust of gunsmoke-choked wind pushed him back. A malicious aura of demonic qi surged from the Gun in a pulse of crimson light. An oppressive bloody miasma hung over the skyscraper, the shape of skulls forming and fading inside its putrid veil.

    Yuan used a Barrier to hover over the streets and stay at a distance. His bullet-core pounded in his skull with frenetic intensity, while the gunsmoke clouds above thundered with the sounds of gunshots and artillery strikes.

    Bullets rained upon the city in a drizzle of lead.

    They were normal projectiles without a qi charge, so they flattened against Yuan¡¯s Fourth Coil skin and did only minor damage to what remained of the city¡¯s infrastructure. The rain was nothing like the attack that destroyed Fleshmarket, which only put Yuan more on edge.

    He could only think of two reasons why the Gun wouldn¡¯t use a qi bombardment: either it expected to fail, since Yuan and Revolver survived it once with Barriers¡­ or it was saving qi for something worse.

    From the oppressive amount of power oozing from the Gun, he could guess which option was more likely.

    ¡°Ah¡­¡± The Gun rattled with a twisted, reverberating echo of Revolver¡¯s voice. ¡°Ha¡­ haha¡­ ha¡­¡±

    Yuan mistook the noise for a cry of pain, until it grew stronger and more malicious. The Gun¡¯s jaw opened to reveal rows of ammo-teeth singing a gunfire song.

    ¡°Ahaha¡­¡± The Gun raised its revolvers to the sky and fired at it, its shooting stars filling the rain clouds with blazing light. ¡°Hahaha!¡±

    Laughter.

    The Gun was laughing.

    ¡°You find that funny?¡± Yuan muttered, his fists clenching in anger. ¡°Is this all a game to you?¡±

    The Gun stared at him, its teeth forming the ghastliest smile he had ever seen. It was Revolver¡¯s face, but something else lurked behind the steel; a savage and wicked that delighted in the bloodlust of battle and the thrill of murder. Yuan saw its evil qi pushing to the surface, trying to shed its humanoid shell to embrace its true, awe-inspiring true form.

    The Gun uttered three words, each punctuated by the sound of a trigger being pulled.

    ¡°Gun God Incarnation!¡±

    The Gun¡¯s body ripped itself apart, and burst out of it.

 Chapter 81: God Loves, Guns Kill

    The Gun manifested in its full parody of divine glory.

    A Recoil Shockwave of immense power erupted from it with the sound of a heavenly gunshot. The building on which the Gun once stood was instantly vaporized beneath its feet. The explosion swept away the entire city block, sending tons of dust and concrete projectiles flying across the ruins.

    Yuan hastily formed a Barrier to protect himself from both the blast and debris. He sensed oily blood drip through the armored parts protecting his bullet-core and down his forehead. The heart of his being pounded in blessed agony and filled his brain with a pain as intense as it was ecstatic. Every fiber of his sutra circuits brimmed with both awe and anticipation at the coming of its Path incarnate.

    The clouded sky had turned bloody crimson, its rain of bullets carrying the stench of industrialized death and gunpowder. Gunshot thunder announced the coming of a demigod of ultraviolence.

    The Gun descended from the heavens as a colossal nightmare forged in steel and malice.

    It had grown to titanic size¡ªat least twenty meters¡ªand transformed into a monstrous mechanical abomination. Armored legs dangled from a trigger-shaped chest equipped with a gnashing, hungry maw of serrated artillery shell teeth. Its left arm ended in a metallic gauntlet with claws, and its right boasted a massive cannon the length of Orient. Dozens of smoking rifle barrels sprouted out of its back in the form of twisted wings.

    But it was the head that intimidated Yuan the most. The Gun¡¯s faceless helm, adorned with razor-sharp golden spikes, gave the impression of a crown of thorns worn by a king of death. The contraption thrummed with malevolent energy, and nothing remained of Revolver¡¯s visage.

    A ghostly halo of black smoke floated above the helmet. Countless visages and ghoulish skulls reflected on its surface, screaming and crying. Yuan would have hardly paid it any attention, until he caught a glimpse of the Khan¡¯s face among them. He saw flashes of Gayak, Slash, and countless other souls. They were echoes of the past; the last screaming faces of everyone who had died from a firearm.

    And should Yuan falter today, his own visage would join that legion of the dead.

    Yuan would have lied if he said he didn¡¯t find the prospect of fighting this titan daunting. The beginning and the end of his half-life, his very , now faced him in its purest form; and he had barely managed to wound it while it still merely stuck to wearing Revolver¡¯s body like a suit. What hope did he have of actually killing that ?

    He wondered if Arc had ever felt the same when she chose to defy her fate.

    However, a single desire occupied Yuan¡¯s mind beyond the dread and the anticipation; a simple purpose that anchored him into the present moment and renewed his fighting spirit.

    He would drag Revolver¡¯s soul out of that .

    ¡°I¡¯ll send you back to Hell!¡± Yuan shouted while activating his sutra-circuit. ¡°Gun Demon Incarnation!¡±

    Yuan¡¯s body transformed into its purest form, his revolver absorbed into his metal flesh, his limbs transforming into weapons and his face into a gun. His thrusters burned with the power of flight. He was hardly any bigger than a toy when compared to the Gun, but he didn¡¯t let that intimidate him.

    The Gunsoul demon shot its god.

    Yuan fired a stream of qi-powered bullets from his minigun arm at the Gun¡¯s chest. The projectiles, imbued with both armor-ignoring and explosive properties, phased inside the demigod¡¯s chest and detonated a few inches beneath it. Smoking holes erupted across its torso and exposed tendrils of technorganic flesh beneath.

    The Gun answered his assault with a laugh. Its central mouth cackled maniacally as it flapped its wings with the strength of a hurricane, the barrels making it up firing a series of immensely powerful Recoil Blasts. Yuan retreated at hypersonic speed to dodge them all.

    The Gun proved equally quick.

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    The giant monster flew after Yuan with speed that belied its immense size. It moved across the air with the grace of a bullet, smashing through the city¡¯s ruins and whipping up a hurricane in its wake. Yuan avoided its hand trying to grab him in midair.

    the skulls and ghostly faces forming the Gun¡¯s halo chanting in a thousand radio static voices. Yuan did not understand the language, but it sounded like a threat to him.

    Yuan responded by channeling Dragon¡¯s Breath through his cannon-arm. A blinding stream of qi-powered fire burst at the Gun¡¯s faceless helmet and began to melt off its surface. The Gun waved its cannon-arm like a club, clocking Yuan in the face and flinging him towards the city¡¯s outskirts.

    The Gun chanted, its prayer an echo of past atrocities. Molten parts of its helmet fell off to reveal the iron skull of death itself underneath.

    It pointed its cannon arm at Yuan and gathered immense quantities of qi inside. The very fabric of space bent around the titanic barrel, the bullet raindrops deviated in its direction as if called by the irresistible pull of gravity.

    The specter of death loomed over Yuan.

    The Gunsoul put all his power into his thrusters and activated his Recoil Shockwave. He flew around the city in a wide circle faster than a warhead, faster than lightning, perhaps faster than Coyote himself. He moved at such an incredible speed that the friction burned the metal skin off his flesh.

    The Gun pulled its trigger.

    Its cannon glowed like the heart of the sun and vomited fire. Yuan¡¯s enhanced eyes caught a glimpse of a bullet the size of a house flying out of the barrel. It surged across the landscape like a lightning bolt, the air rippling from its passage.

    Then the world .

    The bullet¡¯s mere blowback unleashed a shockwave of such cataclysmic power that it ruptured the earth open. The projectile carved a path across the land, blowing dust, debris, and concrete in a straight line. Yuan had managed to fly far away from its path, but he still sensed the ripples spreading across the air

    The bullet flew into the wasteland and hit the distant mountains. A massive fireball set the horizon ablaze. The impact shattered the ancient mountains in a flash brighter than the Khan¡¯s arrow of light, vaporizing everything caught within its radius. Yuan couldn¡¯t help but look at the deadly glow with awe.

    Such was the power of a demigod of ultraviolence.

    Worst of all, the Gun quickly reloaded. It charged its cannon again while its trigger mouth laughed and its halo of the dead sang its praise. They said as the Gun vomited more fire and death.

    The Gun¡¯s second shot proved as equally devastating as the first, and so was the third. The projectiles surged with blinding speed and set the Unmade World ablaze. City-sized craters and colossal plumes of smoke formed where they hit, the sheer temperatures of their impact transforming sand to glass.

    Yuan fired a gun volley here and there, though he mostly focused on circling the Gun across the sky. He couldn¡¯t afford to slow down for a second. The Gun had already begun to charge its fourth shot, regardless of whether or not its attack was in any way efficient at slaying a small and mobile enemy. The monster reveled in the mindless destruction it caused. Every shot allowed Yuan to gain a better awareness of how its qi moved, the same way observing Gatling Man¡¯s techniques eventually allowed him to locate his core.

    . While Yuan was confident he could dodge the Gun¡¯s attacks easily enough, damaging it proved a lot more difficult. Using his Gunsong technique to imbue his bullets with armor-ignoring, qi-powered explosive shrapnel properties hardly let him inflict more than superficial wounds.

    Yuan racked his brain for a solution until he remembered one of his past battles. He had already faced one opponent who required an extra punch to hurt.

    The Rad Hag.

    Yuan activated his qi sight and analyzed the leylines crossing the city¡¯s ruins. Only a field of rubble remained of the destroyed settlement, but the earth¡¯s flow of qi didn¡¯t care for human constructions. It continued to flow like it always did.

    Yuan positioned himself above the buried railroad. Recalling his feng shui lessons, he weaved a Barrier around his cannon arm and pointed it in the way the qi flowed. The Gun turned to face him in a gunslinger duel, only for an object advancing into the fading sunset to catch its attention. So many miles separated that target from the city that it hardly looked longer than a point to Yuan.

    His enhanced eyes sharpened their vision like scopes with qi until the object grew into focus: a caterpillar of steel riding on phantom tracks at full speed.

    Orient.

    Yuan¡¯s core pulsed in alarm. His friend had crossed an amazing distance in such a short amount of time¡ªcovering hundreds of miles in less than an hour¡ªbut not enough to escape the Gun¡¯s sight.

    The Gun pointed its cannon-arm at the distant spirit-train, its mouth laughing with malicious glee.

    ¡°In your dreams!¡± Clenching his teeth in rage, Yuan poured all of himself into his cannon arm. The power of his will, refined through so many ordeals, coursed through his flesh in a shockwave. ¡°Recoil Blast!¡±

    Light erupted from his arm, and the leyline trembled.  Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 82: Kings of the Unmade World

    His right arm exploded, as did the Barrier around it.

    With the threat of Orient and Holster¡¯s lives on the line, Yuan poured most of his qi into his cannon. The power he had accumulated across his short half-life of cycling burst out of him in a mighty detonation that vaporized his metal bones and annihilated his fingers. The leyline¡¯s qi and feng shui alignment only magnified it.

    Yuan thought his thrusters would be enough to help him stay in place, but he was wrong. The blowback threw him backward while his shockwave carried on with such strength and speed that the very humidity in the air turned to steam. It picked up power the more it traveled along the leyline, leeching off qi from the earth to grow in size and power.

    The pain was intense, but not unbearable; not when it saved his loved ones¡¯ lives.

    The Recoil Blast struck the Gun in the right side of its torso, close to the shoulders and joints keeping its cannon arm attached to it. Although Yuan¡¯s attack couldn¡¯t hope to match the Gun¡¯s mountain-destroying might, the impact packed as much of a punch as Orient did when she crashed into Manhattan.

    The shockwave hit the Gun and tore its way through it.

    The blast ripped half the Gun¡¯s torso to pieces and continued its course into the wasteland beyond, shattering its bones and severing the Gun¡¯s cannon arm off from the rest of its body. The power accumulated within it suddenly broke free in a mighty fireball that incinerated the demigod and the city¡¯s ruins.

    As it turned out, the Gun wasn¡¯t immune to its own power.

    The cannon-arm detonated with the heat and power of an arrow of light. Blinding flames shining like the sun melted off the Gun¡¯s skin and flesh to reveal thick steel bones, alongside gear organs pulsating within thorned ribs. The shockwave blew dust and heat into Yuan¡¯s face, forcing him to push qi into his thrusters to fight it off. When the light and flames died out, only a smoking crater remained of the dead city¡¯s ruins.

    Yet the Gun endured.

    the Gun boasted. Its body slowly began to grow bullet-flesh to restore its lost body parts, starting with the cannon-arm.

    Yuan sensed his qi reserves dropping at an alarming rate. Gun Demon Incarnation consumed an immense amount of qi, and his Recoil Blast had taken a lot of his strength too; it wouldn¡¯t be long before he began to run on empty. He had to end this quickly.

    Observing the Gun gather qi to power its techniques gave Yuan a pretty good idea of its core¡¯s location, or whatever served as that monster¡¯s qi battery. He once again thought back to his fight with the Rad Hag that eventually became Orient. He could still use the leyline to end things once and for all.

    Yuan flew across the railroad and began to pick up speed. The leyline¡¯s qi carried him forward like a fish swimming alongside the current. His body became a bullet coursing towards its target.

    He had no idea whether his body would survive the collision, but one thing was certain: Gun Demon Incarnation would end immediately after. Failure was not an option.

    The Gun flapped its barrel-wings and fired a volley of Recoil Blasts at Yuan, each of them striking the landscape with the power of an artillery bombardment. Yuan dodged them all. He grew so fast that the world ahead of him became a tunnel of light. He closed his eyes to better focus on the ambient qi, and the pulsating core of power that served as the Gun¡¯s center of power.  S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Yuan veered upward and rammed into the Gun with a fatal headshot.

    He punched through meters-thick layers of steel bones and a brain of qi-circuits relaying orders to an immense demonic body. The bullet in his head pulsed with a familiar memory of entering Yuan¡¯s own skull. It was home again.

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    But Yuan didn¡¯t stop. Channeling Elemental Infusion through his thrusters, he pushed deeper into the Gun¡¯s brain, worming its way towards the pulsating core at its center: a humanoid body bound by circuits to serve as the host of the monster that raised him from the dead.

    Revolver.

    Yuan rammed into the body with all of his might all the way to the back of the skull.

    The two of them erupted from the demigod¡¯s head in a shower of fleshy metal and broken pieces. The Gun¡¯s God Incarnation body rippled the moment it lost its core, its iron breaking down into gray dust carried by the wind. A storm of qi blanketed the wasteland.

    Revolver¡¯s eyes glowed crimson, and the Gun inside him breathed gunsmoke in Yuan¡¯s face. A mighty Recoil Fist swiftly decked the latter in the mouth.

    The blow shattered the lower half of Yuan¡¯s jaw and sent him falling into the desert below at full velocity. He lost control of his trajectory, his thrusters shorting out from lack of qi to fuel them. He barely managed to soften his landing with a well-placed Recoil Shockwave.

    Yuan bounced off a dune of sand and dirt, the Gun Demon Incarnation technique literally beaten out of him by the crash. He returned to his human form amidst puddles of broken bullet raindrops and molten metal puddles formed by the Gun¡¯s earlier bombardments. His entire body brimmed with pain. He had lost his jaw, his arm, and most of his qi. Even moving demanded some effort now.

    A laughing shadow fell upon him.

    With Gun Demon Incarnation''s end shortcircuiting his techniques, Yuan had no choice other than to rely on Feng Shuit. He slammed the ground with his remaining left hand and summoned a circular Barrier around himself. The Gun crashed upon it with all of its weight, its Recoil Fist straining Yuan¡¯s defenses.

    Yuan jumped back to his feet and leaped away as the Barrier collapsed. The Gun landed in front of him, its clothes burned during their earlier encounter. Only a black metal skeleton wreathed in gunsmoke remained of Revolver. Its crimson eyes gleamed with bloodthirst while the smoking silent city loomed behind them.

    The Gun lunged at Yuan with murder on its mind.

    Yuan did the same, his last fist raised for the final clash. With most of his qi spent, he knew this would be the end. It was now or never.

    The Gun waved its right arm into a haymaker while Yuan lunged forward to strike back, the two duelists now within an inch of each other. Their fists prepared to connect for yet another clash of steel.

    Or so it seemed.

    Arc had warned Yuan that overusing Gun Demon Incarnation would hamper his techniques after its conclusion, and her words rang true. He felt the qi circuits he had spent so long building burning as he overheated his body''s internal machinery. Some of his bullet-core''s roots went up in smoke, his nerves frayed and leaving his iron flesh permanently damaged, yet he pushed through with all his might.

    Yuan turned to smoke before the blow connected and let the Gun phase through him in its momentum.

    He could only maintain the transformation for a split second, and he the spiritual weight of the Gun as he passed by. He experienced the crushing grip of death, the bitter regrets of the deceased souls that gave it life, and the final fear and horror of its victims¡¯ last moments. It was awful, like dying all over again a thousand more times.

    It only encouraged Yuan to endure further, to end it all here and now.

    He phased through the Gun and reformed right behind it. The monster, carried by its momentum, barely had time to peek over its shoulder before Yuan¡¯s fist hit it squarely in the face.

    He had only one arm left, but that was more than enough.

    ¡°Gatling¡­ Fist!¡± Yuan growled through his wounded throat.

    He pummeled the Gun from behind with all of his remaining speed and strength. His arm became a blur thundering like a maddened piston. He punched the Gun again and again, cracking its jaw, knocking out its ammo-teeth, and breaking its spine. Each hit''s recoil reverberated through his body and cracked his bones with wounds Yuan knew he would never heal from, but he didn''t relent. The final blow threw the Gun face-first into the ground in defeat.

    The Gun growled amidst the lead and dust like a wounded animal. It wasn¡¯t dead. The Gun would never die.

    But as it struggled to get up, Yuan found the scene oddly familiar. He recalled LaChair¡¯s story, and all clicked into place.

    Revolver knelt in the desert, his back turned to Yuan, his head down the same way he had the day Elder Polio had him shot dead for daring to fight for his freedom.

    That was how the Gunsoul was born; and how the Gun might die.

    The circle was completed.

    Pushed by instinct and exhaustion, Yuan grabbed the gun Revolver had gifted him the first time they met. He heard a clink in the chamber holding Arc¡¯s final bullet as it aligned with the barrel for the shot. He pointed his weapon at the back of his old comrade¡¯s head, the same way Polio had put him in the ground once before.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Yuan whispered under his breath.

    He pulled the trigger, the gunshot echoing across the wasteland of the dead.

 Chapter 83: The Last Duel

    The bullet blasted through the back of Revolver¡¯s skull and came out of his forehead.

    Yuan¡¯s revolver exploded in his hand, its broken pieces flying across the desert and its shrapnel piercing his palm. The weapon that signaled the beginning of his Gunsoul half-life had served its purpose.

    Not even the iron skin of the Gun, which had resisted almost all of Yuan¡¯s attacks earlier, could resist Arc¡¯s masterpiece. It blew a fist-sized hole straight through Revolver¡¯s metal brain in a shot of heavenly light and continued its course through the desert, eventually hitting the ground and worming its way deep into the earth¡¯s bowels.

    The impact blew the Gun¡¯s malice away. Its malignant qi left Revolver¡¯s body in a wave of bloodcurdling ghostly winds. They shrieked into Yuan¡¯s ears with the last wails of a million victims and the countless gunshots that slew them. He covered his face to protect himself from the vile miasma flowing out of the defeated demigod of ultraviolence.

    When Yuan lowered his wounded hand, Revolver¡¯s body laid on the ground at his feet. Though his ally hadn¡¯t regained his true appearance, Yuen sensed none of the Gun¡¯s evil dwelling within him. The demigod¡¯s spirit had been violently expelled from its host.

    For a brief instant, Yuan stood still, his body frozen with tension. Was it over at last?

    Revolver did not rise to challenge him, and he could feel none of the Gun¡¯s foul essence within him¡­ yet the demigod¡¯s power continued to hang over the desert like an ominous smog. Yuan had done everything right, hadn¡¯t he?

    So why did his bullet-core continue to pulse in alarm?

    His eyes settled on the hole he blew in Revolver¡¯s head, at that tunnel of iron flesh and nerves. He noticed something pulsating within the leftmost part of the temporal lobe; a seed of lead which Arc¡¯s final projectile had grazed but not destroyed.

    A bullet.

    Yuan¡¯s eyes widened in horror as the true weight of his mistake dawned upon him. Elder Polio indeed had Revolver shot in the back of the head, but much like Slash, his executioner had been a lousy shot. He had fired the bullet sideways rather than in a straight and optimal line of fire.

    And because of that chain of incompetence, Yuan had missed the bullet-core.

    The heart of Revolver¡¯s being as a Gunsoul, and the lynchpin that bound him to the Gun, remained intact.

    The consequences became immediately clear. The Gun¡¯s essence floated around them in a vortex of evil; its corruption briefly repelled, but its hunger undiminished. Ghoulish, ghostly skulls formed within its miasma to smirk at Yuan and taunt him over his failure.

    And the worst of all, Revolver¡¯s corpse was rising back to its feet.

    Yuan couldn¡¯t believe his eyes. He didn¡¯t want to believe in what he saw.

    ¡°You¡¯re strong, Yuan¡­¡± Revolver whispered as he turned to face Yuan, a hole squarely in his skull. Though his eyes were his own again, the Gun¡¯s malice had begun to float back to him in a desperate attempt to take him over again. ¡°So unbelievably strong¡­¡±

    No, no, no, not , not after , not after all the sacrifices he had to make¡­

    ¡°You won,¡± Revolver told him, though it hardly felt like it. ¡°I guess that¡¯s why¡­ you were always its first choice¡­¡±

    No, Yuan Guang hadn¡¯t won. His ally was doing his best to weaken the blow, but they both knew the truth.

    His Perfect Shot had failed to destroy the Gun. It hadn¡¯t even freed Revolver from the curse; it just woke him up from his eternal nightmare. He had blown up his chance to end it all.

    Even if he destroyed the core now, Yuan knew it wouldn¡¯t end the Gun¡¯s existence. He would simply prove himself worthy of its twisted mantle and inherit the curse. He had failed Arc¡¯s last wish and everyone who believed in him.

    For the first time since he rose from the dead, Yuan felt the sting of absolute despair.

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m sorry,¡± Yuan muttered in defeat. What else was there to say? ¡°I really thought it would free you.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be sorry, Yuan. No one else would have even .¡± Revolver let out a heavy sigh. ¡°Thank you for being a friend.¡±

    Yuan would have clenched his jaw, if he still had the teeth for it. He still had enough qi left for a final Recoil Fist or maybe a last Gun Demon Incarnation blitz. Revolver¡¯s bullet-core was exposed and an easy target.

    He could at least do right.

    ¡°I will lose control again soon,¡± Revolver whispered in defeat. ¡°And when I do¡­ I will kill you.¡±

    ¡°Not if I kill you first,¡± Yuan replied, his fist raised. He was ready to pay the price for defeat, and spare his old ally the curse¡¯s pain and guilt. ¡°I¡¯ll let you rest.¡±

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    Revolver hesitated for a brief instant, the thought of allowing himself to die crossing his mind. Yuan could tell he desired nothing more than to pass on the curse and escape the eternal gunfire hell wearing down on him.

    Yet he still shook his head.

    ¡°I can¡¯t let you suffer like I do,¡± Revolver replied, his hands joined into a mudra. ¡°Not after you risked everything to save me.¡± S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    A familiar wave of metal qi emerged from Revolver and engulfed Yuan in a ring-shaped Barrier. He immediately recognized these energies, and the incantation that would give them shape. The Gun¡¯s essence hungrily flowed into it, tainting it with its corruption.

    Yuan lowered his hand. He knew what Revolver was trying to do; ending things without regrets and putting their demise outside of their hands.

    ¡°I call upon luck, the fairest judge¡­ Chambers loaded, let¡¯s play¡­¡± The will of the Dao itself bent around Revolver as he activated his Authority. ¡°Two pull the trigger, one walks away¡­ Steel and chance no longer wait¡­¡±

    At least it would spare them the guilt of killing the other.

    Luck alone shall decide who would bear the Gun¡¯s curse.

    ¡°Death¡¯s Roulette, seal our fate."

    The world became a prison.

    An Authority was an external expression of the caster¡¯s core; a physical embodiment of their soul. Revolver¡¯s had taken the shape of a saloon during the Fleshmarket clash, but the Gun¡¯s presence within him had corrupted it into a jail of concrete held by barrel-bars and trigger locks. Bloodstains painted the gray floor red, while the stench of a fresh grave hung over the cell.

    Yuan sat across a table from Revolver. He was himself again, the very same gunslinger who gave Yuan a ride to Gatesville after his first death; a cursed man¡¯s last vestige.

    His shadow, however, represented his Gun-tainted self. It loomed behind Revolver with crimson eyes shining in the dark and the most malicious of grins. It , the bastard. It knew that the game was rigged in its favor.

    The Gun would win a powerful host no matter the outcome.

    And as a six-chambers revolver magically appeared within Yuan¡¯s bleeding hand¡ªwith one bullet meant for him and another for his opponent¡ªthe injustice felt unbearable. Why? Why did it have to end this way, with two men betting over which of them would live to suffer in the other¡¯s stead?

    Czar Zoa and Mordiggian both believed in the wheel of karma; that what went around came around. Was this Yuan¡¯s punishment for contributing to Fleshmarket¡¯s destruction or failing Arc? Had saving Holster, keeping the Cube of Natho out of the wrong hands, and avenging dead friends not been enough to wipe away the karmic debt he owed?

    Yuan tried to figure it out even as the Authority¡¯s power compelled him to put the revolver against his skull. If only he could pass on whatever information he found about why his Perfect Shot failed to another Gunsoul, then he would at least die content. Someone would at least from his mistakes and hopefully break the cycle.

    Both duelists pulled their weapon¡¯s trigger, and both shot soft blanks at their metal heads. Yuan faced Revolver across the table, and then glared at the Gun cackling in the background.

    The Gun had no revolver.

    Yuan froze in shock. While the Gun¡¯s last possessed host participated in the last game of roulette, its disembodied incarnation didn¡¯t. Its shadow observed the roulette duel, but did not partake in it.

    Yuan thought as he recalled the Authority¡¯s rules, his eyes widening in recognition.

    And while Revolver¡¯s Authority was the physical incarnation of his soul, the Gun¡¯s shadow was the purest essence of the spirit infecting him. If it perished here¡­ if it was wiped clean within the very heart of Revolver¡¯s identity¡­ then it might be exorcized without killing the host.

    The right place.

    This prison of a soul was the .

    Yuan¡¯s bullet-core pounded in his skull. He knew, deep within his soul, that this couldn¡¯t be a coincidence. He might still have a chance to turn things around.

    Would a normal bullet work? While the revolver in his hand only contained his and Revolver¡¯s death, nor would it accept other projectiles, Yuan had enough qi left to use Item Materialization and fire at the Gun¡¯s shadow. Would it be enough?

    No. No, it couldn¡¯t be. The right shot with the right bullet, fired with the right gun at the right place at the right time for all the right reasons. A common projectile couldn¡¯t put the Gun to rest. What could be powerful enough, special enough to¡ª

    Click.

    The thought hit Yuan¡¯s mind at the same time the blank hit his skull.

    he realized, his mind alight with burning insight.

    Yuan immediately knew what he had to do to achieve victory¡­ and its cost. The price he would have to pay to free the Unmade World from its worst calamity. The power no former Scrap would have been willing to give up, and the future that came with it.

    That his time on this broken earth was limited; and that the right moment only came once in a lifetime.

    As for the right reasons¡­ Yuan could think of many. Holster, Orient, Arc, Revolver too. To the dead, he could offer peace; and to the living, hope.

    ¡°I am a gun,¡± Yuan muttered to himself. ¡°Quick to fire.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Revolver asked, his revolver pressed against his skull. The blank bounced off his temple, and so did Yuan¡¯s shot.

    ¡°Violence begets violence,¡± Yuan replied.Trying to kill the Gun while expecting to survive was a fool¡¯s hope from the start, because the thing on the act of murder and the chain of revenge. There was only one way that kind of vicious cycle of revenge could truly end.

    ¡°I¡¯ve rarely reached three out of six,¡± Revolver noted with a joyless sigh, chambers moving for the next round. ¡°Never gone any farther. The fourth shot is death.¡±

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Yuan replied as he gathered what was left of his qi. ¡°Gun Demon Incarnation.¡±

    He tapped into the last of his strength to fuel the transformation, shedding his human flesh to become the living firearm he had always seen himself as deep down. Revolver looked at him in startled surprise, but Yuan had no time to explain to him the truth. He only had enough qi left for a single shot, and the Authority would kill one of them any second now.

    ¡°Gun! Demigod of ultraviolence!¡± Yuan roared, his eyes glaring at the monster that was both his beginning and his end. A barrel burst out of his head, its chamber loaded with the only projectile it ever needed. ¡°I swear it on this bullet that once gave me life!¡±

    The Gun wailed at him, and for the first time its scream carried not the malice of its malevolent hunger nor the joy of victory, but the sharp sting of . It had always been a cycle sustained by human suffering; and it would now be complete.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you in Bullet Hell!¡±

    Yuan fired his own bullet-core at the Gun, and shot it .

 Chapter 84: Gundead, Gunman

    The dead dreamed of guns.

    He was back at the Nowhere again, falling into deep and impenetrable darkness. He knew that it was no unconscious dream this time. He remembered the biting cold and numbness of nothingness all too well. His limbs no longer answered him, his lungs were empty, and his spirit drifted downward into the silent dark.

    Most importantly, his bullet-core no longer pounded in his skull.

    It was gone, and the Gun alongside it.

    Yuan had felt the curse¡¯s destruction during the final impact. He had heard its final wail and bore witness to its annihilation the moment his core shattered against its spirit. The cycle that sustained its evil had finally reached its destined completion, and he had felt the soul of Revolver linger behind after he dragged the Gun through death¡¯s waiting door.

    A life for a life. It seemed like an even trade to Yuan.

    Yuan Guang had died saving his friend, spared the Unmade World from a gun-blazing calamity, and fulfilled Arc¡¯s final wish. He had made a difference; the good kind. He had died .

    The only thing he regretted was leaving Holster and Orient alone, to find their own way into the wasteland without him.

    As Yuan drifted into the dark, he could only pray the Wayfinders would allow him to see them again in his next life. He was almost tempted to come back as a hungry ghost simply to meet them again, to tell these two how much he had cherished their time together¡­ but he knew he wouldn¡¯t return from this.

    His last breath¡¯s bullet had always been a one-way trip.

    Then¡­

    Then why did he hear gunshots?

    The sound of pulled triggers and explosions rocked the Nowhere¡¯s overbearing silence. A song of blasts and burns resonated across the darkness in an erratic symphony. It sounded like the noise of a distant bombardment coming from high above.

    Yuan focused on its source, turning his attention upward¡ªif such a thing had any meaning in the Nowhere. He saw a blazing light in the distance, and forms falling from it in a rain of blood and lead.

    Corpses.

    Most were humans, but a few belonged to beasts, demons, even Yaoguai. They fell down into the darkness each with a bullet lodged somewhere in their flesh. Headshots, heartshots, legshots¡­ all victims of a thousand firearms running amok.

    The Gun was dead, but its worshipers lived on. Mortals would continue to sacrifice lives on the barrel altar until the end of life on Earth. Heroes or villains, it didn¡¯t matter. The Bullet Hell would claim them all without distinction. In a way, little had changed.

    Except this time, there was no prison warden to give these bitter souls another shot at revenge. They would have to find rest, whether they liked it or not.

    It seemed so¡­ so tragic to Yuan. For every Gunsoul tormented by the Gun, there had been someone like him or Revolver who took a stand against the horrors of the wastes. There were so many victims and warriors among these people, amidst the killers and murderers. It felt unjust that they would fade away while the evil that slew them endured.

    If only they had had the same chance he did¡­

    A sharp pulse spread through Yuan¡¯s chest, waking up his limbs. His heart pounded with a gunshot¡¯s roar, once, then twice, and so on.

    That was impossible. His heart had long stopped beating on its own. His bullet-core had been the lynchpin of his being, and it was .

    Yet it beat in his chest with a minigun¡¯s pace, its pulse raw and intense.

    Yuan felt something stirring in the void around him. He recognized that slow increase of pressure, that intense sense of a looming presence getting closer. Something vast and incomprehensible, as omnipresent as gravity and as all-powerful as the relentless march of time; a force of nature that Yuan¡¯s mind could hardly appreciate the true size of.

    The presence vibrated around him, like sound spreading through water or a giant fish sending ripples through a pond too small for it. It had no outline nor shape, yet Yuan sensed its gaze, its awe-inspiring attention, its will worming its way into his soul.

    it asked.

    Those weren¡¯t words, because that entity had long since transcended the need for sounds and symbols. Its will and meaning simply manifested themself within Yuan¡¯s heart, clear and concise.

    ¡°Are you¡­ the Deathsong?¡± Yuan asked in awe. Was it the Wayfinder of death, who ascended to the Dao to become a cosmic principle bringing the regretful dead back as ghosts to the world of the living? It certainly felt that way to him.

    The force ignored his question and repeated its own, slower this time.

    ¡°Them?¡± Somehow, Yuan knew the thing spoke of the falling corpses raining down around him. ¡°Where?¡±

    Was he delirious? Or was this a test to see how he would reincarnate? A final test of karma?

    ¡°Why ask ?¡± Yuan pondered.

    the entity replied.

    His name? How could all of these people have died in name? They hadn¡¯t died for him, or even at his hands. The one thing they had in common¨C

    The answer came to him in a gunshot heartbeat.

    He had aligned his soul to a Path, and now it seemed clear to him. He had carved its truth into his bones and spirit, and without the Gun¡¯s corruption to cloud it in blood and darkness, he could finally see it in all of its simple glory.

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    The phenomenon that gave rise to the demigods of ultraviolence wouldn¡¯t end until humanity ceased to anoint their weapons with the blood of the dead. The Gun had been a man-made deity born of carnage, but it was only one of war¡¯s thousand visages. The qi of the deceased sacrificed on the barrel altar would always go .

    If not to the Gun¡­ then to the one who wielded it.

    the presence asked.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Yuan replied without hesitation. ¡°Yes, I will.¡±

    Deep within himself, he knew he had spent his entire life preparing for this. Kaguya told him as much: at a hundred thresholds, facing a hundred foes, he always chose to pick up a gun and return fire.

    He was born to be a gunman.

    He sensed a wave of satisfaction through the void as the presence acknowledged his choice and gave him its blessing.

    A gunshot echoed in his soul, and the Gunman triggered back to life.

    His eyes snapped open to face the moonlight and planetary rings glittering in the starlight above. The cold desert wind blew on his metal skin and pushed away the gunsmoke breath oozing from his mouth. He felt whole, his arms ending in miniguns and cannons, his back¡¯s thrusters waiting to fire. A smoking cannon waited to fire on his forehead. He was healed, .

    He was back in his Gun Demon Incarnation form, but it no longer demanded any qi from him. His soul had transcended the need for a human-shaped safety vessel. He had become what he was always meant to be.

    ¡°Yuan?¡±

    Yuan turned his head to look at Revolver.

    It was his old ally, returned from the dead, the very same Gunsoul who had given him a ride to Gatesville and saved him from Polio. The Gun¡¯s shadows no longer obscured him, nor did its malice consume his mind with bloodlust.

    He was wounded and had yet to regenerate fully, but he was alive.

    Alive and .

    ¡°Revolver,¡± Yuan whispered, though it was difficult to hear himself over the song of gunshots carried by the wind. He could hear them all around him from half a world away, calling out to him.

    ¡°Are you¡­¡± Revolver marked a short pause, his head tilting to the side. He had taken a few steps away from Yuan, his posture betraying both his fear and hope. ¡°? Or at least in there?¡±

    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s me,¡± Yuan replied calmly, his thoughts clouded by the last breaths and gunshot prayers reaching him from across the Unmade World. ¡°Why?¡±

    Revolver pointed at something above his forehead. Yuan looked up to see a halo floating above his head; one formed by barrels pointing outward like a crown of guns melted together. He also suddenly noticed another telling detail.

    A bullet-core pounded in his head, stronger than ever before. Qi from all across the Unmade World flowed into its smoking embrace.

    ¡°I sense the Gun¡¯s presence inside you, but it¡¯s¡­ ,¡± Revolver whispered. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ . Like the safety¡¯s on now.¡±

    ¡°It is. The Gun is part of me, but I¡¯m greater now. I¡¯m¡­¡± Yuan took a deep gunsmoke breath. The word came to him from the depths of his soul. ¡°The .¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± Revolver lowered his hands in a mix of relief and confusion. ¡°I don¡¯t get it. Did¡­ did you beat the Gun? Is it over?¡±

    ¡°It is,¡± a familiar voice answered. ¡°Your friend has mastered the Gun Path.¡±

    Revolver¡¯s head snapped up as Kaguya descended from the sky on her umbrella. Her sudden appearance didn¡¯t surprise Yuan in the slightest. He had the feeling that she had been watching the battle from afar, waiting to see the resolution.

    ¡°Who the hell are you, lady?¡± Revolver asked in disbelief. ¡°Did you just fly down from the ?¡±

    ¡°Mayhaps,¡± Kaguya replied as she gracefully landed on the ground, and then immediately gave Yuan a bow. ¡°I must applaud you for your victory, Yuan Guang. I didn¡¯t think I would live to see this day. You have done something unheard of.¡± A smile stretched on her lips. ¡°You have put an end to a demigod of ultraviolence.¡±

    ¡°So the crazy bastard did it,¡± Revolver muttered in astonishment. ¡°You¡¯ve killed the Gun¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve it,¡± Yuan corrected him. The Gun would never die so long as firearms continued to kill, but it had become part of his Path rather than the other way around.

    A tool for the Gunman to wield.

    ¡°That¡¯s ,¡± Revolver said, his hand moving to scratch the back of his head. ¡°That was the only way it could be defeated, wasn¡¯t it? If you sacrificed your bullet-core to take it out in the name of protecting others. Giving up the strength all of us former Scraps killed to preserve.¡±

    ¡°What is the difference between a killer and a warrior? Between a coward who murders the weak and the hero who stands up to evil?¡± Kaguya asked Revolver, though she did not wait for an answer. ¡°It is quite simple. The former kills because they have to lose¡­ and the latter fights because they have to protect. No more no less.¡±

    Yuan squinted at her. ¡°Did you know this would happen?¡± He asked. ¡°Was this your plan from the start?¡±

    ¡°Of course not,¡± Kaguya replied. Yuan''s enhanced senses let him quickly pick up on any facial expression, and he detected no lie. In fact, she sounded almost offended by the suggestion. ¡°But now that I saw how it all unfolded, all the twists and turns, the truth seems clear and simple: mastering a gun means being able to put it back in its holster when the work is done.¡±

    Yuan nodded sharply and looked over the horizon. So many people out there had yet to learn that lesson, enthralled by the very power guns offered them.

    ¡°I can raise the people from the dead as Gunsouls now,¡± he said calmly. ¡°I hear them calling out to me. I can choose who returns from death now. Raise warriors instead of killers.¡±

    This made Revolver uneasy. ¡°But what happens if a Gunsoul kills you now, Yuan?¡± he asked. ¡°I mean, will they take the power and assume the mantle? Will it revive the curse and restart the whole thing all over again?¡±

    ¡°Who can say?¡± Kaguya replied with a shrug. ¡°A book has closed, and the next tale has yet to be written. All of us are walking into unexplored territory.¡±

    ¡°There has to be a catch¡­¡± Revolver shook his head in disbelief. He still struggled to accept that neither of them died for the other¡¯s sake. ¡°It¡¯s too good to be true.¡±

    ¡°I had to destroy your cruiser to save you,¡± Yuan pointed out.

    Revolver marked a short pause, as if trying to figure out whether or not Yuan was trying to make a joke. Though he was entirely serious, his fellow Gunsoul still exploded in laughter.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve gotta repair it and give it a good polish.¡± Revolver let out a sigh of contentment and sincere gratitude. ¡°Thank you, Yuan. You did more than save my life; you saved my . I owe you one.¡±

    ¡°You saved me once,¡± Yuan replied with a chuckle. ¡°What comes around goes around.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t expect me to worship you or kiss your ass though. I ain¡¯t the religious type.¡± Revolver thoughtfully studied him for a moment. ¡°What are you gonna do now, lad?¡±

    ¡°I am curious to hear it too,¡± Kaguya said. ¡°The Fifth Coil and the Dao are both within your reach.¡±

    ¡°You truly think I could become a Wayfinder?¡± Yuan asked. The very idea seemed so far out of reach, even with his newfound power. ¡°Is that even possible for the likes of us?¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about, Yuan Guang?¡± She smiled at him. ¡°You are the Gun who killed the Gun. There¡¯s no way you¡¯ll ever lose.¡±

    When she put it that way¡­

    Yuan only briefly considered the proposal before deciding against pursuing the Dao, at least for now. Power for its own sake didn¡¯t appeal to him. He recalled Mordiggian¡¯s words, how the world was unbuilt rather than unmade. The Gun had only been one demigod of ultraviolence among many, not to mention the likes of the Yinyang Khan and Manhattan still continued to sow misery across the Unmade World.

    More than anything, he thought of Arc. She had been wrong about the Perfect Shot and would have failed to end the curse, but her teachings paved the way for Yuan¡¯s victory. Her last request had been that he put an end to the Gun¡¯s cohorts, and he owed it to her memory to follow through with it.

    He couldn¡¯t ascend to the heavens without cleaning up the house first.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to make this world better,¡± Yuan decided. Arc had asked him to defeat the demigods of ultraviolence, and he would do so. ¡°Put an end to tyrants and monsters both.¡±

    ¡°Well, lad, I¡¯ve finished what I set out to do and never expected to live this long, so¡­¡± Revolver pumped his fist with enthusiasm. ¡°Where you go, I¡¯ll go.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Yuan replied, his eyes looking at the starlight horizon and the leyline flowing into the wasteland. ¡°But first thing first¡­¡±

    His thrusters lit up with power. S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡°We have a train to catch up to.¡±

 Chapter 85: The End (Epilogue)

    Ayatsuri Kenta was driving for his life, his product screaming in the back of his car. He could still hear the gunshots ringing in his ears.

    The desert ahead was hot and unwelcoming, while only death awaited behind him. He could see the plumes of smoke rising from the Sacri-Farm in the rearview glass mirror. The place where he had spent the last ten years of his life was , wiped out in an instant.

    ¡°Shut your trap,¡± Kenta told his product, the last Human Pillar the Sacri-Farm managed to produce before everything went to hell; and the only one he managed to snatch up before those cursed Gunsouls crashed through the front door. The boy, an orphan hardly older than seven, wouldn¡¯t stop mewling and crying. ¡°I said shut your !¡±

    A shadow obscured the sun on his left. Kenta¡¯s blood froze in his veins even before he looked at the incoming danger.

    They had heard the boy.  sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    An enormous, two-tailed calico cat even bigger than his car was running along the dune. A young lass rode on its back, her crimson hair untainted by her victims¡¯ blood, and her assault rifle¡¯s scope gleaming in the sunlight. It was even longer than she was, but she had no issue carrying it with her thin arms; Kenta had seen her blasting off the Boss¡¯ head with it, even though he had been a Third Coil cultivator immune to bullets!

    Reacting quickly, Kenta grabbed the boy from the backseat with one hand and dragged him in front of the car¡¯s window. The demon girl didn¡¯t pull her cursed trigger. Her cold blue eyes glared at him with divine .

    Why did this have to happen to ? Kenta considered himself a human recycler. He and his colleagues provided a key service to wastelanders, taking in the human trash no one wanted, refining them into sellable wares, and then packaging them to send to civilized communities. It was a dirty and thankless job, with a lot of wasted meat, but it paid the bills.

    Then these maniacs showed up and started blasting away his whole crew!

    , Kenta thought as he struggled to keep the child up with one hand and driving straight with the other.

    He had heard the rumors about a moving town protected by a vengeful god who commanded the Gunsouls, but he dismissed them. Why would a god care for ?

    A trio of strange contraptions blocked the road.

    They were small, hardly bigger than a human head, with mechanical wings carrying their tiny frames above the ground. Their shiny helmets sported trigger-shaped lines and two blue eyes shining inside a sea of darkness. Their small, armored hands wielded oversized weapons with barrels longer than Kenta himself and tiny triggers.

    Cannons.

    cannons.

    Kenta veered to the right as they took aim at his vehicle, only to realize his mistake a second too late when they refused to pull their triggers. He had been deceived!

    His car hit something invisible; a soft wall carved in the very fabric of reality that stopped his vehicle dead in its tracks. Kenta expected to be thrown through the windshield, but the collision, if he could call it that, was as gentle as hitting a cushion. Neither he nor his product suffered any injury.

    But the girl was now right in front of them, her barrel with a straight line of fire on his head. She pulled the trigger, and nothing seemed to happen for a brief instant. The windshield didn¡¯t shatter and no bullet hit him. For a small moment in time, Kenta thought she had spared him.

    Then he felt the pain flaring beneath his forehead¡¯s bones and inside his brain.

    Kenta died before he heard the gunshot.

    Holster waited for the slaver to stop moving, then lowered her rifle.

    The man was dead and stiff, his hold on his victim loosening. The sight filled her small heart with pride. It had taken her many months of work to fine-tune bullets capable of bypassing skin and bones alongside inorganic matter, but it worked like a charm. She didn¡¯t like frightening those she saved by spraying them with their captives¡¯ blood.

    She had been in their place after all. She knew their fears.

    ¡°Are you¡­ okay?¡± Holster asked the child with a kind smile and a cough. Her voice was hoarse from all the shouting, her throat sore.

    The poor boy responded by crying. Holster cursed herself for asking such a stupid question. Of course he wasn¡¯t okay. She should have thought of something better.

    Gotama opened the car apart with her big paws, then gently grabbed its terrified occupant with her mouth and lifted him by the neck. The poor kid immediately stopped crying. Gotama¡¯s touch never failed to calm anyone caught in her tender jaws. Holster didn¡¯t forget to pet her on the head for it.

    ¡°Everything¡­ everything will be alright,¡± Holster reassured him. ¡°You¡¯re safe now.¡±

    She brought her fingers to her mouth and whistled. Six of her cheruguns gathered around her, all of them sporting different weapons from cannons to Kalash Angels.

    ¡°Can you carry him to Mr. LaChair?¡± Holster asked them kindly. Her doctor had grown very skilled at treating Human Pillars over the years; he had even successfully operated on and cured a few. ¡°He¡¯ll help him.¡±

    Holster knew her Cheruguns weren¡¯t truly sentient; they were extensions of her own qi and the very first Gun Path technique she ever invented. Nonetheless, she had imbued them with part of her soul and autonomy, so Holster preferred to make requests to them rather than give orders.

    She had been a slave once. Nobody liked to be bossed around.

    Her Cheruguns let out clinking noises, then dematerialized their weapons back into the raw qi they¡¯d been created from. They gently grabbed the boy by his arms, then carried him away. Holster and Gotama watched them fly over the dunes with big bright smiles.

    ¡°You¡¯re sure it¡¯s wise to entrust that boy to your critters?¡± Uncle Revolver asked as he rode down the dune, his cruiser spirit-machine thrumming. ¡°The Wayfinders know where they wander off to sometimes.¡±

    ¡°I trust them,¡± Holster replied. She knew her cheruguns could make a mess of themselves sometimes, but they always gave their all. ¡°Is it over?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve cleaned up the trashcan farm,¡± Uncle Revolver replied, while tipping his hat to her. ¡°You did good, girl. Your parents will be proud.¡±

    Holster smiled sheepishly. Spending her early years as a qi battery meant that Holster¡¯s reserves surpassed that of other cultivators her age many times over, to the point that she found it easier to focus on Techniques that required a large output. Channeling her extra qi through her cheruguns came easier to her than Gunsongs or Black Haze, though she hoped to master both within the year.

    The Gun Path came easily to her. Very few cultivators pursued it outside of the Gunsouls Dad raised from the dead every now and then, but Holster knew it was made for her since he first offered her that gun all those years ago. When the time came for her to dedicate herself to a chosen discipline, it simply¡­ .

    ¡°Although¡­¡± Uncle Revolver chuckled to himself. ¡°Your father will be worried sick if we don¡¯t return home soon.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Holster replied with a cough. Even after all this time she still struggled a bit with speaking words out loud, though Mom said she was improving each year. ¡°I didn¡¯t wish to worry him¡­¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the Gunman¡¯s Little Angel,¡± Uncle Revolver teased her. ¡°Of course your father¡¯s worried about you leaving the nest. He worries so much he still hasn¡¯t found time to finish his Authority.¡±

    Holster smiled sheepishly. Bucket had coined the nickname when he included Dad in his ¡®universal train theology¡¯ after putting up a shrine for Lady Arc, but it stuck among Train-Town¡¯s people. It brought a smile to many faces, and that was all that mattered to Holster.

    Come to think of it, Holster didn¡¯t remember ever seeing Mr. Bucket smiling since she met him all those years ago, or even his face¡­ How strange.

    Holster rode with Uncle Revolver across the dunes, past the ruins of that awful Human Pillar farm. The mere sight of the compound sickened Holster¡¯s stomach. It reminded her of that cruel sect building where the Flesh Mansion Sect cultivators bound her core and then shipped her off like merchandise.

    Dad had long shot dead both her captors and the customer she was meant to be delivered to, but she still had nightmares about what could have happened had he never rescued her.

    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    It was why she had insisted on leading the charge against that ¡®Sacri-Farm,¡¯ as the slavers called it. Dad would have had no issue wiping them out on his own, and he wouldn¡¯t even have to fight; tales of the Gunman inspired enough fear around these parts that these slavers would have likely surrendered at the mere sight of him.

    But Holster had instead insisted on dealing with the group herself without his supervision. She wanted to prove to herself that she could finally fight back against the monsters who had created her, and to show her parents that they didn¡¯t need to worry about her safety anymore. It took a to convince them to let her try. Mom only agreed if Holster had Uncle Revolver watching over her.

    Holster thought she acquitted herself well, though the sense of triumph she felt over putting down slavers didn¡¯t compare to the joy of opening the cages holding her fellow Human Pillars captive.

    ¡°Fellow¡­¡± Holster muttered to herself.

    ¡°What did you say?¡± Uncle Revolver asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m still one of them on the inside,¡± Holster replied as they observed the wicked farm from atop a dune. Train-Town¡¯s citizens guided children into cars or gave them first-aid treatments. Those who had families to return to would be reunited with their parents; and the others would hopefully find a new home inside Mom¡¯s wagons. ¡°A Human Pillar.¡±

    It had been four years since they found the great and wise Long dragon sage that Miss Arc had visited in the past, after a year-long journey across the wastes. Holster would never forget that encounter; how scared and amazed she had been of that great and ancient beast with golden scales that shone brighter than the sun and horns that jutted out of his head like a crown. It had looked so majestic atop its throne of treasure and spirit-roots¡­ and so scary when it demanded that Dad work for him a full month in return for him curing Holster of her Human Pillar status.

    Dad refused to speak of what quest the great elder dragon sent him on, but it must have been . The very mention of a dragon spooked her dad more than any demigod of ultraviolence, and he refused to tell Holster what happened to this day. All that Mom would say on the matter was that he had been ¡®.¡¯

    At least Mr. Long stayed true to his word and agreed to safeguard the Cube of Natho from threats until they found a way to destroy the evil within it. Dad had decided to focus on other demigods in the meantime. The Nuke was safely contained, while the likes of the Blade, the Biohazard, and the Arson remained free to torment others.

    Holster knew he would get them in time. They had put down the Gun and the Bow already. In fact, it was their hunt for the Truck, demigod of cars and vehicular manslaughter, that led them to this region.

    That one was the most elusive of their targets yet, both for its ability to teleport across vast distances and its erratic behavior. The monster hunted down and persecuted isolated targets without rhyme nor reason. If it had a pattern of attack, Holster couldn¡¯t figure it out yet, though it seemed to favor young men of ¡®Japanese¡¯ descent as its favorite victims. Mom was looking long and hard into that ancient civilization, but couldn¡¯t find anything tying it to the Truck for now. They had been looking for clues about it when they learned about the local slavers¡¯ guild and decided to take it out.

    ¡°I still think like I¡¯m a Scrap too,¡± Uncle Revolver said as they drove home. ¡°So does your Dad, which is good. gotta care for them.¡±

    ¡°I care,¡± Holster replied. She had spent the last year researching how to refine spirit-fruits to create pills good enough for them to develop cores. ¡°I hope that one day there won¡¯t be anymore Scraps, Human Pillars, or cultivators. Just . All of us.¡±

    Uncle Revolver¡¯s helmet face hid his true feelings well, but Holster always knew when he smiled. She could feel it in the air, like so many other things.

    ¡°What is it, Uncle?¡± she asked softly.

    ¡°The older you get, the more you look like your mom,¡± Uncle Revolver said. ¡°Or maybe it¡¯s the other way around. I can never tell.¡±

    How odd. Aunt Kaguya often said that too when she visited, usually after leaving an offering at the shrine dedicated to Lady Arc. She was coming more often now that Dad was almost done completing his Authority. Aunt Kaguya always looked like she was waiting for only she could see coming.

    ¡°How do you think Dad¡¯s Authority will look?¡± Holster asked her uncle.

    ¡°No clue,¡± he replied. ¡°Glad to discover it with you though. The Fifth Coil is a wall. It took me to figure out mine too, and I didn¡¯t have a teenage daughter to raise nor demon trucks to hunt down.¡±

    Holster giggled to herself. ¡°I helped.¡±

    ¡°You did,¡± Revolver confirmed, his chin rising slightly as they reached Train-Town. ¡°More than you think.¡±

    Their home rested along an endless stretch of spirit-tracks under the fading sun, waiting for them.

    Mom was growing longer and longer with each passing year. She had accumulated nearly a hundred wagons since she had picked up Holster and Dad all those years ago, and now housed over three thousand souls. She had grown so long her own daughter couldn¡¯t see the end of her across the horizon sometimes.

    The cultivators among them helped with maintenance and engine duties, but Mom was reaching her limits. Holster had heard her discuss with Dad about ¡®building more trains,¡¯ though she always blushed and stammered when her daughter pestered her for details.

    Speaking of Dad, Holster saw him flying high above Mom¡¯s locomotive, his thrusters leaving a trail of smoke behind him. Her daughter quickly guessed he had been observing her from afar with his sharp eyes, ready to swoop in at any sign of trouble; and she loved him for it.

    He descended from the heavens Holster knew he would one day conquer to greet them. His barrel-face and demonic body often scared newcomers, but those who could look past appearances always saw the brightness inside. He nodded at them, then spoke two simple words that had never failed to lift Holster¡¯s spirits.

    ¡°Welcome home,¡± Yuan Guang said.

    His daughter smiled back, and all was right in the Unmade World.

    An Ending.

    And that bullet has reached its target.

    When I put up and (which will hit RR someday soon) for the vote on Patreon and they ended up nearly tied, hardly managed to edge ahead by one vote. Both of these stories are probably my weirdest, shortest and most niche works yet, and were imagined as a way for me to change my mind off , a much longer work on which I¡¯d burned out on.

    Gunsoul was pretty much imagined as the anti-CE. Whereas I eventually felt a bit crushed under story weight and twists (I think it was a mistake having seven Demon Ancestors to defeat on top of building up such a large cast in a single-person story rather than a rotating anthology), was always meant to be a one-volume tale with a rather straightforward structure; where CE focused on character development, intrigue, and exploration, Gunsoul would be all about action, power-progression, and battle. If I had to compare it to something, I would say was imagined like while Gunsoul was heavily inspired by . Radically different approaches.

    In short, was imagined as a bullet: quick, straight, and to the point.

    Long-time readers know that I¡¯ve been toying with the idea of Wuxia/Xianxia/cultivation stories for a long time, and that early proposals were twice rejected during patron polls (third time¡¯s the charm I suppose); older readers will remember that I also considered an American/Western spinoff of set in Northern America, which was also rejected in a poll. setting is more or less the result of those long-buried ideas germinating and merging together into something I feel is pretty unique in the cultivation genre. I do have a tendency of recycling and refining concepts over time and feels like the end of a natural trend; weird ideas merging together until they can stand on their own as something unique.

    On one hand, that niche approach has its cost, since is currently my story with the fewest followers on RR yet, even worse than my old dark fantasy ; but on the other hand, I¡¯m super satisfied with how it turned out anyway. It seemed many of you enjoyed it very much and I had a blast writing it up.

    I think that going into this novel knowing I could choose to end it there on a high note without the pressure of going into a long-running saga really helped maintain my spirits through it. I think I¡¯m the kind of writer who needs to keep trying new stuff to feel satisfied, and projects that go on too long start feeling suffocating after a while; especially if I end up disappointed in how it turned out or when they underperform. I don¡¯t think anybody would publish online if we writers were only writing for ourselves. There¡¯s a part of me that always dies inside when people unfavorably compare my niche works to old successes like the or , like I¡¯ve only struck gold once or twice and everything I do afterwards will be in the shadow of past achievements.

    So in a way, I¡¯m very proud of because it helped me rediscover how it felt to write something unique for its own sake, without regrets nor bitterness. It was a very pleasant experience and I hope it felt the same way to you. I think I¡¯ll probably write more action stories of that kind in the future.

    So, how much of the storyline and ending was planned? Almost all of it actually, though a patreon poll on Yuan¡¯s path midway through the story heavily influenced some characters¡¯ roles, like the Gun¡¯s host. Had some patrons chosen differently, it could have been Arc standing at the end of Yuan¡¯s road, and Revolver walking by his side as his mentor. The different battles, the fight for the Cube, everything else hardly changed much from the original outline. I suppose it¡¯s much easier to run a tight ship on a shorter journey.

    As for what comes next¡­ honestly, I¡¯m satisfied with the current ending. Most cultivation stories go on forever because, well, ultimately the quest of power for power¡¯s sake never ends. There are always higher mountains to climb, until eventually even godhood becomes a stepstone among others. It¡¯s a cycle of diminishing returns that eventually peters out.

    It¡¯s why I ensured Yuan was always training for ; first vengeance against Slash, then protecting the family he had gathered around him. And well, he achieved both.

    It¡¯s not that I¡¯m closing the door on more stories in the Unmade World. I could show Yuan ascending through the remaining Coils or hunting down the demigods of ultraviolence, or write about Holster or more¡­ but honestly I¡¯m satisfied with the current ending for now. Like a western story, the town is saved and the heroes venture into the sunset to face whatever Fate awaits them.

    If I do return, it would have to be with a bigger plot that I feel resonates with me and readers both. I mostly themed Gunsoul after the cycle of (gun) violence and especially the trend of cultivation becoming more about cool power-ups than the pursuit of enlightenment it started as, and maybe there are impactful tales to write in that setting, but honestly I haven¡¯t thought of any yet. Maybe one day. Who knows. I¡¯ve got a lot of other stories I want to tell in the near future.

    That, and unfortunately writing five chapters-a-week is super good for intense pacing, but eats away a lot of time and resources. I intended to advance on DW and CE, but once I dedicated myself to the new schedule, I ended up unable to work on either. It¡¯s why I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll publish DW on RR until I¡¯ve completed CE first. If you chase too many rabbits, you¡¯ll lose them all.

    So, for what comes next¡­ as I said, my priority is now to finish since we''re a handful of chapters from the conclusion. did a good job at staving off the burnout I felt with that story and building up writing momentum, so I intend to complete that trilogy on November. That has been a long time coming, and I apologize to readers of that story who haven¡¯t had news on that front for a while. I think I overestimated my ability to divide my focus between different novels, but be assured that I¡¯ll focus on that one till the finish. Otherwise, I''ve also put up a poll on Patreon for the next post-CE story which should conclude at the end of November.

    In any case, I hope you¡¯ve enjoyed that strange Cultivation Western. I¡¯d be happy to read your final thoughts in the comments; and write to you soon.

    Best regards,

    Voidy.

 Chapter Gunsoul Audiobook Available for Pre-Order + & Promo Codes

    Heya, Gunsouls!

    It''s been a few months since concluded, during which my narrator worked very hard to bring Yuan Guang''s tale of post-apocalyptic, gun-fueled xianxia tale to life! I''m proud to announce that the audiobook adaptation of is now available for preorder on Audible, with the official launch planned for March 4th! Thank you all for supporting the novel during its publication!

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Audible Link: https://www.audible.com/ac/Gunsoul-Audiobook/B0DWNG6T3Y?qid=1739979077

    Otherwise, in preparation for the launch, I''ve made the first audio chapter available on a public post on Patreon (link below) for everyone. I''ve also received 25 or so promo codes for the launch, which you can ask for by posting a request in a comment; though I would deeply appreciate a review on the audiobook goes live in return ;)

    Link to the patreon post: /posts/gunsoul-for-pre-122627095

    In any case, I hope you''ll appreciate the audiobook, and I''ll see you again on the bullet launch day!

    Best regards, S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Voidy.

 Chapter Gunsoul Audiobook launch on Audible (final update)

    Hello everyone! S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    As forewarned a few weeks back, the audiobook for my series is now up on Audible for purchase! I once again wish to thank every patron and reader who supported the novel during its publication on and , alongside my narrator Wayne Mitchell for recording it!

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    Link: https://www.audible.com/ac/Gunsoul-Audiobook/B0DWNG6T3Y

    As always, I would appreciate any review if you get around to listening to it, the Audible/Amazon algo being what it is. This will likely be my last update here, but I hope you''ll enjoy hearing Yuan Guang''s journey through the Unmade World in audio format, and I''ll see you soon for more novels!

    Best regards,

    Voidy.