The North Pole of Tailsuo Star, much like Earth's polar regions, experiences an annual period of deep, frigid darkness. At this very moment, the North Pole is shrouded in the longest and coldest night of the year. Temperatures dipping near minus one hundred degrees Celsius, punctuated by gusts of wind reaching speeds of four hundred kilometers per hour, turn this place into a veritable death zone, with sharp, stone-hard snow constantly whipped into the air.

Directly above the North Pole, separated by an energy shield spanning over ten kilometers in diameter, lay a world of surprising beauty. Here, the flora was lush and green, flowers bloomed in profusion, and the thoroughfares were lit by transparent, glowing lamps. A grand banquet was reaching its peak. Dotted among the vibrant green foliage and blossoming flowers were more than a dozen luxurious palaces. On a vast lawn near the edge, over two thousand dignitaries from the Tailsuom galaxy were cheerfully raising their glasses, enjoying the bloody spectacle unfolding outside the light barrier.

Two thousand burly men, each clad only in a piece of animal hide wrapped around their loins, were divided into two factions. Armed with short swords, steel shields, and powerful composite-string bows—all cold weapons—they engaged each other in combat under the harsh, near-minus-hundred-degree weather. They roared their anger and spat curses, relentlessly reaping the lives of their opponents with their weapons.

All these men shared the same pale complexion, their skin marked with natural black patterns, making them resemble agile leopards. It was clear they belonged to the same race.

Their bodies steamed profusely. Despite the external extreme cold, the low temperatures and fierce winds seemed to have no effect on them whatsoever. Every single one of the two thousand men possessed the strength of at least a Five-Star Adept, with nearly a hundred boasting the power of a Six-Star Venerable. The cold weapons in their hands were high-grade artifacts forged from exotic materials. A single sword strike, if it missed its target and struck the ground—the thousand-year Xuan Bing, which was tens of times harder than steel—would cleave open a vast and deep gash. Every arrow that grazed past a person’s body could still etch a circular pit, dozens of meters deep and as thick as a water bucket, into the ice. These men were masters of battle techniques, leaping and soaring with joyful ferocity during their mutual slaughter, creating an extremely arresting scene.

Suddenly, one of the Six-Star Venerables charging at the very front, his body shimmering with a strong earth-yellow light, was struck simultaneously by more than a dozen arrows. He twisted his body left and right, dodging the majority, yet four alloy long swords, thick as a thumb and covered in barbs, pierced through his body. The man roared up at the sky in agony. Two enemies flanking him lunged forward; one swiftly severed his head with a single sword stroke and immediately retreated backward, while the other plunged his short sword deep into the man’s chest, shouting in triumph, "The one who killed you is—"

A jet of blood erupted from the beheaded man's throat. He violently drew his arms inward, brutally locking onto the triumphant enemy who had become careless, squeezing with all his might.

Amidst the horrifying sound of shattering bone, the man who had been too pleased with himself and neglected to disengage was stared in disbelief with wide eyes as his body was wrung, quite literally, in half.

The dignitaries, the young ladies, and the wealthy matrons inside the energy shield applauded softly in unison.

They looked down with contempt at the man whose body had been twisted apart, directing their calculating gazes toward the headless man. A golden-haired young lady delicately raised her right hand and tossed a glittering chip to an oval, fist-sized flying device hovering beside her. "My pardon decree goes to this heroic warrior. He killed his enemy even after being decapitated. He is a hero, is he not?"

The young lady displayed a charmingly alluring smile. A group of young men surrounding her, dressed like peacocks in full display, all broke into dazed and infatuated smiles. They nodded in unison and tossed their own chips to the small flying device. They unanimously agreed to pardon the beheaded man, deeming him indeed a hero, a true brave man.

Two small medical robots zipped out of the barrier and entered the area where the great men were fighting to the death. One robot seized the man’s head, while the other grasped his torso. The robots' slender, agile mechanical arms skillfully reattached the head to the body. Several strange lights rapidly circled the severed neck wound a few times, and the scar instantly vanished without a trace. The two robots then repaired the wound on his chest in the same manner before injecting the man with a pale green serum.

With a hiss, a spark of electricity flashed across the man's body. The man who had been dead moments before suddenly convulsed, leaped up quickly from the ground. He first looked around in confusion, then stared at his perfectly restored body with astonishment. He then seemed to understand, and a sudden, ecstatic joy swept over him. He rushed a few steps closer to the light barrier, knelt heavily on the ice plain, and bowed deeply to the powerful figures of the Jixing Empire within the shield.

Several armed robots slid out of the barrier and escorted the man inside. Ten young women, with pale skin marked by black patterns and beautiful features, were brought forward and presented to the man. Each maiden held a massive, round platter carved from crystal, upon which were neatly stacked small, thumb-thick rods of Starlight Silver. Each platter held approximately two hundred kilograms of Starlight Silver, yet the maidens appeared completely unfazed, clearly possessing considerable strength.

The man watched the maidens and the Starlight Silver with visible nervousness, his body trembling violently.

The golden-haired young lady, who had thrown the third chip, walked toward the man amidst the adulation of the surrounding youths. She gently stroked the man’s chin with a fingertip and said with a smile, "Open your mouth."

The towering man, nearly two meters tall, hastily bent over, lowering his body to be level with the young lady, and obediently opened his mouth, revealing a set of neat, white teeth as clean as pearls.

The young lady nodded, even more satisfied. She smiled sweetly: "With today's pardon decree, I have absolved you of your slave status. These ten women and all this Starlight Silver are my rewards to you. From today forward, you are my personal guard. From this day on, you and your children are not slaves but my house retainers. Do you understand?" The young lady’s gaze lingered on the man’s developed abdominal muscles, her eyes instinctively narrowing slightly as she licked the corner of her mouth with a quick, red tongue.

The man knelt humbly on the ground, carefully kissing the young lady’s boot, and swore an oath of loyalty amidst the biting cold.

The young lady laughed haughtily, holding her head high, and slowly walked back into the crowd of elegantly dressed figures. The man greedily glanced one last time at the ten beautiful, graceful maidens, then cautiously followed the young lady, deliberately maintaining a distance of one step behind her. The young lady glanced sideways at the man trailing her, her expression growing even prouder.

A middle-aged woman, seemingly an elder to the young lady, spoke up with a sharp, triumphant voice: "Oh, look! These Adepts, before the young ladies of our Jixing Empire, are like tender livestock. We reward them at will, dispose of them at will, take everything from them or grant them everything. It’s truly incredible!"

A bald old man nearby threw his head back proudly and chuckled as well. "Indeed. The citizens of our Jixing Empire are the favored children of the gods. One might even say we are all demigods!"

All the dignitaries smiled and continued to observe the cruel, intense battle raging outside the light barrier. The thin barrier was almost negligible, yet the frenzied fight involving over a thousand Five-Star and Six-Star Adepts could not cause even a ripple on its surface. The other great warriors on the battlefield had noticed the reward the first man received: resurrection, ten beautiful women, and a massive amount of incomparably precious Starlight Silver. This was enough to drive anyone mad.

Suddenly, a Six-Star Venerable went berserk. Howling madly, he unleashed a golden sword qi, extending over ten meters long, accompanied by a piercing sonic boom, as he charged into the enemy ranks. The sword qi whistled through the air, instantly slaying over a dozen enemies, including two other Six-Star Venerables. However, he was immediately swarmed by the enemy, who hacked off his head and all four limbs.

But this Six-Star warrior’s bravery earned the appreciation of a middle-aged man dressed in military uniform. He also expended a pardon decree to revive the warrior and conscript him into the Jixing Empire's army. Consequently, the emotions of the warriors on the field became even more feverish. They seemed to forget the possibility of their own demise, throwing themselves desperately at the enemy.

Half an hour later, over a thousand warriors were annihilated, and among the final survivors, only one fortunate soul received a pardon decree. All the others, including the Six-Star Venerables, were utterly dead, frozen stiff under the blowing wind. Once their blood had completely frozen, once the vitality of their body cells was utterly destroyed, and once their souls had departed their bodies, there was no possibility of revival for them anymore.

Gu Xiechen stood quietly on a nearby ice mountain, observing everything.

The power these great men possessed could have easily wiped out all the dignitaries. Yet, they had lost all spirit and courage to resist, truly behaving like a herd of penned livestock, used merely as tools for amusement and display. The people of the Jixing Empire truly considered themselves gods. And perhaps, death was the most suitable end for these men who had been reduced to slaves.

"A slave race whose national integrity has been thoroughly destroyed," Gu Xiechen muttered deeply, then raised his right hand and violently struck downward, unleashing a torrent of Dark Water Yin Thunder.

The dense clatter of thunder cracked the thick Xuan Bing layer of the North Pole, tearing open a massive fissure. The light barrier, previously unaffected by the raging winds, shattered like paper under the dense explosive force of the Dark Water Yin Thunder. All the dignitaries and young ladies let out screams of sheer terror. In the blink of an eye, the piercingly cold wind swept up hundreds of people, tossing the defenseless figures far away. Hundreds of them, including the young lady who had first used the pardon decree, were smashed violently against the ice mountains, their bones shattered and their brains burst.

Before the estate's backup shielding system could activate, half of the dignitaries within the manor were already dead.

Gu Xiechen's Taiyin ceremonial robe transformed into a bizarre outfit: a long swallowtail coat complete with a small cape—the standard uniform for secret agents within the Jixing Empire's Intelligence Bureau. Dressed in this eerie attire, he slowly walked into the wind-swept estate, constantly unleashing streams of chilling, crescent-shaped water blades from his hands.

The thin water blades zipped swiftly through the panicked crowd, raising massive waves of blood. Finally, even the dozen luxurious palaces were cleaved into dust by the water blades. After at least half of the several thousand dignitaries present had been killed or wounded, Gu Xiechen lazily approached the owner of the estate. According to intelligence gleaned by Gu Xiechen using the Soul-Plucking Edict technique, the owner was the bald old man who had previously boasted about being a demigod. He held the peerage of a Duke in the Jixing Empire and was one of the empire's largest slave merchants.

Standing steadily before the Duke, whose face was pale with fright, Gu Xiechen stated calmly, "I am the Team Leader of the Dragon Group within the Military Intelligence Bureau. I am ordered to execute the traitor who colludes with foreign powers. Your Excellency, please confess all your crimes. Otherwise, I must regretfully take your life."

The bald Duke stared at Gu Xiechen, utterly confused. Colluding with foreign powers? As a Duke in a Six-Star Peak Civilization, what greater interest could he possibly have to betray his nation? He jumped up in a fury, pointing at Gu Xiechen and shouting curses, coincidentally also sending greetings to Gu Xiechen’s backer, Daoist Mu.

Shaking his head, Gu Xiechen pointed a finger into the bald Duke's forehead and swiftly sifted through all his memories. After obtaining all the secret intelligence stored in the Duke's mind, Gu Xiechen let out a cold sneer. A wisp of Taiyin Profound Flame completely annihilated the old Duke’s brain and his soul.

The surviving nobles let out piercing screams simultaneously. Every one of them had memorized Gu Xiechen’s face and the identity he had revealed.

The manor’s bodyguards finally charged out. These sluggish guards lunged at Gu Xiechen in a near-frenzied state: a total of one hundred Six-Star Adepts and two thousand Five-Star Adepts. All their eyes were glazed green as they burned their energy cores, pouring out all their power to launch a suicidal attack against Gu Xiechen.

Gu Xiechen flicked his wide sleeve, unleashing a torrent of wine-colored waves. Two thousand eight hundred powerful Adepts were crushed like insects beneath a waterfall thousands of feet high by the fierce hydraulic force. The flesh of every Adept was instantly pulverized, and blood and pulp were flung far by the water wave, splattering all over the nobles who had narrowly survived.

Bowing elegantly to the terrified dignitaries, Gu Xiechen said politely, "The Military Intelligence Bureau is ordered to execute traitors. All casualties today are those implicated in treasonous acts. If anyone has any questions, please use the Intelligence Bureau’s internal encrypted communication channel to inquire. The Intelligence Bureau's encrypted channel uses the Imperial Capital District code, the Spatial Quantum Communication System's Ultra High Frequency Classified Line: 9957 THz. The entry password is 'Kunlun Zhenzong'."

With exceptional composure, Gu Xiechen bowed once more to the petrified dignitaries, then leisurely stood up and walked out of the light barrier, swiftly vanishing into the swirling snowstorm.

The stunned dignitaries within the manor shrieked and rushed toward their vessels. In their minds, they swore that regardless of whether this incident was related to Military Intelligence Director Mu Daoist, he would die. They would mobilize all their family power to tear this man limb from limb, making his entire clan pay the price for his insolence and cruelty.

Not long after, everyone in the manor fled completely; not even a ghost remained.

Gu Xiechen returned to the manor. He smiled as he watched the luxurious warships rapidly ascending overhead. With a casual motion, he cleaved a circular pit ten meters in diameter and five thousand meters deep into the manor grounds. He casually dropped a ten-billion-ton thermonuclear bomb into the pit. The surrounding earth, as if endowed with life, crawled back to cover the pit, sealing it exactly as it was before.

The scheduled detonation time for this thermonuclear bomb was one hundred and forty-four hours later. This was two hours after Gu Xiechen had buried the first nuclear device. The continuous series of explosions would thoroughly shatter the psychological baseline of everyone on Tailsuom Star. Before their final moments, they would also suffer the torment of nightmares.

Casting a cold glance at the ravaged manor surroundings, Gu Xiechen transformed into a streak of white water and shot straight into the high sky, vanishing in an instant without a trace.

Tailsuom Governor Goloman felt his head was about to explode.

His own younger brother had been killed by someone claiming to be an agent of the Military Intelligence Bureau, and then the entire Tailsuom Star suddenly plunged into chaos. Important members of noble families were being murdered everywhere by individuals claiming to be Military Intelligence agents. This reign of terror had continued for a full day and night with no sign of abatement. All the major families on Tailsuom Star had sent letters of the most vehement protest to the hapless Goloman. If he could not stop this terrifying campaign, all the families would jointly impeach him.

In a fit of rage, Goloman knelt on his spacious, luxurious desk, fiercely lashing the new secretary he had hired just a month ago. This woman was breathtakingly beautiful, possessing a graceful and moving aura—a peerless beauty from an imperial noble family. If he had not suddenly become the Governor of Tailsuom, this delicate lady, whose status was high and whose body was tender, would certainly not have been an object he could pluck at will, as she was already being watched by hundreds of noble sons.

Feeling the soft body beneath him and the vigorous thrusts, Goloman suddenly roared, his own body trembling violently.

He grabbed the delicate beauty’s neck with both hands, shouting hoarsely, "Is there still no reply from Her Majesty the Empress?"

A young woman dressed in a gray suit, her expression gloomy like a steel blade, stood silently in the darkest corner of Goloman’s nearly two-thousand-square-meter office. She replied coldly and mercilessly, "Her Majesty only said she would inquire with the Military Intelligence Bureau regarding this matter. Based on the intelligence I acquired, the person you killed last time may be related to Mu Shadol Roialoststan Dortro, the Director of the Military Intelligence Bureau."

Goloman slowly straightened up. He gently caressed the pale, delicate face of the nearly unconscious beauty, frowning deeply.

"Don't you find it strange? I was ordered by Her Majesty the Empress to eliminate the target, yet I drew the retribution of the Director of the Military Intelligence Bureau. The Dortro family is one of the oldest and most trusted prominent families in the Empire. Mu Shadol Dortro, our Director of Military Intelligence, personally commands a major portion of the most terrifying dark power in the entire Jixing Empire. And Mu Shadol Dortro is said to possess the privilege of entering the Imperial Palace to meet His Majesty the Emperor at any time, and he is the current Chief Steward of the Imperial Court for the Dortro family."

The gloomy young woman said in a low voice, "Are you implying that the woman from the pirate group you killed is connected to Her Majesty the Empress?"

Goloman’s body violently trembled. He abruptly tightened his hands and cleanly snapped the neck of the beauty who had just been moaning sensuously beneath him. With a touch of reluctance, he kissed her rapidly cooling red lips. Goloman sighed, "You really shouldn't have said that just now. What a waste. I’ve only used you for a month."

The young woman sneered coldly, "A month? Haven’t you used her over a hundred times already? And you call it a waste?"

Goloman sighed deeply. He casually tossed the gradually stiffening body onto the floor and sat back down in his spacious, comfortable office chair. He tilted his head back, crossed his legs, and smiled at the young woman, "Why are you so distant toward me? If you were a little more affectionate, I would cherish you just as I cherished her."

The aura emanating from the young woman grew increasingly cold. She stated blandly, "Think carefully. The price of cherishing me, based on my conditions, is extremely heavy."

The office fell into a prolonged silence. After a long, long while, Goloman finally asked with some hesitation, "According to your analysis, if this is truly Mu Shadol Dortro retaliating against me, where will Her Majesty the Empress stand? If I clash with him directly, what will Her Majesty's reaction be?"

The young woman replied with chilling indifference, "Don’t you already have the answer? Why ask such a ridiculous question? The moment you realized this issue, you should have known the answer."

Goloman sank into thought. Yes, he already had the answer. Unquestionably, if he came into conflict with Mu Daoist, his greatest backer, Her Majesty the Empress, would without hesitation side with Mu Daoist, effortlessly crushing him with the tip of a little finger. He was merely a servant of Her Majesty, incomparable to Mu Daoist, who might potentially have an intimate relationship with the Empress. Even as the so-called Governor of Tailsuom, he possessed no power to resist the Imperial authority.

Just as when he had secretly pursued Jin, the moment Mu Daoist might approach, he had to suspend all offensive actions, ensuring Mu Daoist was not near the target before he was permitted to attack. This showed that while Jin must be eliminated, Mu Daoist still held an extremely high position in the Empress's heart.

The gray-clothed young woman, who stood like a statue, slowly walked out of the shadow enveloping her. Her face, beautiful to the point of being demonic and utterly unlike a human's, suddenly appeared before Goloman’s eyes. Goloman’s heart constricted, and he instinctively sucked in a sharp breath. When the young woman’s cold gaze swept over his exposed body, Goloman suddenly felt a fiery heat in his lower abdomen, and an uncontrollable, maddening urge returned. He gripped the armrests of the office chair tightly, suppressing his impulse through sheer force of will.

The young woman slowly took a step closer, stopping less than two meters from Goloman. She stood with her hands behind her back, thrusting out her high chest, her gaze, cold as a blade's edge, fixed intently on the bulge on Goloman’s body.

"Don't look at me like that!" Goloman screamed hoarsely, the veins beneath his pale skin swelling like earthworms. He felt like a bomb was constantly exploding in his lower abdomen. The young woman simply looking at him with that cold gaze was almost enough to make him collapse.

The young woman slowly stepped forward one pace and asked indifferently, "Have you made up your mind yet?"

A delicate, alluring fragrance suddenly drifted into Goloman's nostrils from the young woman. He felt every muscle in his body instantly tense; he had no control over himself, yet before anything had transpired between him and the maiden, there was a sudden, violent eruption, like a volcano. His muscles convulsed violently, the intense surge lasting for a full minute. When his body finally settled, Goloman's vision had darkened.

"Don't do this," Goloman roared, stomping around in a fury. "What can I do? What can you offer me?"

The young woman's hands, as slender and tender as water shoots, gently rested upon Goloman's shoulders. Her fingers were ice-cold, yet Goloman felt two streams of searing heat flow from his shoulders into his body. His already weakened frame stiffened again, erect as a flagpole. He stared in terror at the devastating beauty of the maiden's face inches from his own, crying out in panic, "Don't, don't do this! We need to talk this out clearly. You've been with me for so long, but you must give me a definitive answer!"

After a moment of thought, the maiden slowly nodded. "Very well, a definitive answer. If you cooperate, you will possess the secular imperial authority of the Polaris Empire, and we will control all of its production. In other words, by partnering with us, you can become the Emperor of the Polaris Empire and enjoy all its power. In return, you must use your authority to find what we desire, the things we need."

Goloman’s body tensed once more. He grumbled uncomfortably, "So, you control me then."

A faint smile touched the maiden's ice-cold face. She said softly, "It's more than just cooperation; it's an equal partnership. And if you choose to work with us, you can have me as well."

With that smile, the maiden transformed from a desolate, frozen wasteland into a temperate grassland blooming with a hundred flowers. A dangerous enchantment surged forth, and Goloman erupted uncontrollably once more.

Trembling, Goloman squeezed his eyes shut and roared in self-abandonment, "Then come on! Could things possibly get any worse than they are now?" He roughly tore off the maiden's clothes and slammed her onto the desk. A sharp cry of pain followed, mingled with Goloman’s frenzied roar.

Two hours later, the rejuvenated maiden, fully dressed and beaming, stood beside Goloman. As for Goloman, he seemed to have aged twenty years in an instant. His once smooth, fair skin was now wrinkled, his body seemingly shrunk by a degree, like a plump stalk of sugarcane that had suddenly lost a tenth of its moisture.

Goloman looked at the maiden with complex emotions, sighing quietly, "You are truly lovely, but you are truly terrifying."

The maiden smiled charmingly, gently stroking Goloman's dry, lusterless skin. She said with a grin, "This is because you are too weak. Once you cultivate this technique, you can enjoy me to your heart's content." The maiden flipped her palm, handing Goloman a booklet bound in ashen-grey leather. On its cover, written in scarlet material, were several large characters: Yuan Yang Yu Mo Jue (Primordial Yang Devil Nurturing Art).

"What is this?" Goloman flipped through the pages; he did not recognize a single character inside.

The maiden seized Goloman’s body, stirring him to excitement again. "This is a miraculous cultivation technique that can grant you power at the Planetary level or even stronger. Of course, you need my cooperation to cultivate it successfully. Once you begin this practice, you and I can never be separated."

Goloman’s body trembled, and then he plunged into bottomless desire. He moaned weakly, "Then, what about those Military Intelligence agents...?"

The maiden slowly shed her clothes and settled onto Goloman's waist, smiling tenderly. "Don't worry about them. One 'God-Trapping Formation' is enough to capture them all. You just need to follow my plan. Trust in our strength; apart from the Emperor of the Polaris Empire, no one in the entire realm can stand against us."

Goloman blinked dazedly, mumbling, "His Majesty the Emperor hasn't managed state affairs for many years. His power has been usurped by the Empress."

The maiden looked sternly at Goloman, her body suddenly surging violently a few times. She said with severe gravity, "Trust me, your Emperor is far more terrifying than you realize. The only reason you cannot grasp his horror is that you are not qualified to touch the real him."

Kissing Goloman firmly on the lips, the maiden spoke gently, "Do you think the Emperor of the Polaris Empire, who has lived since the founding of the empire, is an ordinary man?" Goloman’s body jerked, and a cold sweat suddenly broke out across him. He stared at the maiden in horror, but she was completely engrossed in the violent undulations. Soon, Goloman was lost in boundless ecstasy, shouting incoherently once more.

A vicious, pale green light shot from the maiden's eyes. The light held no trace of humanity, saturated only with the savage aura unique to beasts and vengeful spirits.

"Remember my name, my real name: Yan Wu Asura!"

Eleven hours later, at the outskirts of Tarsom City—the largest city on the planet Tarsom and the seat of the Tarsom Starfield Governor—a midnight masquerade hosted by the largest mining magnate in the sector was reaching its climax. The recent series of terrifying attacks on noble families had cast a sinister shadow over the party, prompting the host to specially request a five-thousand-strong special forces unit from the Tarsom garrison to guard the exterior of the palatial complex.

Besides these five thousand soldiers, all of whom were skilled cultivators, the host had prepared several thousand private mercenary troops and a small strike fleet.

Secretly, the party also had an elite force of two hundred Six-Star Venerables standing by for rapid response, supported by Tarsom City's formidable defensive forces. Surely, those audacious agents from the Military Intelligence Bureau would not dare cause trouble here.

Just as the party reached its peak, with thousands of enslaved soldiers slaughtering each other bloodily in the oval arena, a graceful red silhouette infiltrated the complex.

Innumerable, extremely thin blood threads sliced silently through the void. Wherever the threads passed, all living things had their bodily fluids drained, withering and collapsing. The quantity of blood mist increased, and the individual threads grew longer. Gradually, the countless threads completely enveloped the entire palace. All five thousand special forces soldiers withered and died, and the thousands of private soldiers also turned into desiccated corpses.

Unbeknownst to them, everyone outside the palace grounds was killed by these bizarre blood threads, leaving only the guests inside the arena, still screaming wildly.

Han Ji lazily brushed back her cascading hair, appearing with a smile in the center of the arena, which was piled high with corpses and slick with gore. She appeared amidst a sudden surge of blood water towering dozens of meters high. As the stench of blood sprayed outward, everyone suddenly saw Han Ji and simultaneously let out gasps of surprise.

Han Ji languidly greeted the stunned guests. "Esteemed masters, lovely madams, and pure young ladies... Your auntie here is the Eldest Sister of the Dragon Group, Special Operations Division of the Polaris Empire's Military Intelligence Bureau. I've been specifically ordered to kill you all!"

Han Ji spoke the standard Star Alliance common tongue with flawless, authentic intonation. Her voice was soft, smooth, sweet, and crisp—truly beautiful to hear.

But Han Ji's words were nakedly barbed with killing intent. The guests present froze; the faint-hearted immediately turned and fled toward the arena exits. These people knew that the Military Intelligence agents, who had caused such chaos across Tarsom Planet over the past two days, had finally arrived. Lately, it seemed that wherever dignitaries gathered, these ominous figures appeared. No one knew who had provoked this vengeful group.

However, as the escapees took barely two steps, more than a dozen blood threads shot out from the blood-soaked water, several feet deep, in the arena. The threads, thick with the stench of blood, pierced their bodies, violently draining their vital fluids. These thin blood filaments wriggled and emitted eerie burps, resembling a group of demons reveling in a feast.

The host of the party, a hulking brute over two and a half meters tall, watched Han Ji coldly. He suddenly waved his hand and roared, "Kill her! Don't capture her—I will teach her a good lesson!"

The two hundred Six-Star Venerables surged forward, attacking Han Ji madly.

Han Ji's eyes flickered seductively as she chuckled, "Oh my, you still want to capture me? Heh heh, you are indeed audacious."

She lightly swung her hands, and two blood blades, each a hundred meters long, erupted from her delicate fingertips with a piercing howl. They cleaved through the two hundred Six-Star Venerables as easily as chopping vegetables. Massive amounts of blood sprayed from these psychics, deepening the blood water in the arena by several feet.

With a flash of crimson light, a colossal blood wave formed behind Han Ji, towering toward the sky. Within the viscous, churning wave, dozens of thousands of twisted human figures could vaguely be seen struggling and roaring. All the guests present suddenly retched simultaneously because they recognized the faces of people they knew within the monstrosity.

Han Ji's demonic power was astounding. The blood wave each guest saw was different; each saw figures they knew. Those distorted, ferocious faces and silhouettes magnified the fear in the guests' hearts infinitely, causing them to vomit hysterically while screaming and scrambling in all directions.

The blood wave rolled outward, and in the blink of an eye, all the guests present were casualties.

Han Ji walked with delicate steps to the pale and terrified party host, lightly hooking his chin with the tip of her foot, and asked with a smile, "Still want to capture me?"

The brute, previously sweating cold and looking ashen-faced, suddenly smiled grimly. He extended his massive palm and clamped down hard on Han Ji's calf, roaring hoarsely, "When I catch you, I'll screw you ten thousand times! Hahahaha! No more, no less—ten thousand times!"

An impossibly immense force transmitted from the brute's hands. He casually snatched Han Ji's lithe body and smashed her violently into the ground of the arena. With a deafening crash, the entire arena shattered. Han Ji was driven nearly a hundred meters deep into the earth, the vast arena looking as if it had been bombarded by hundreds of heavy artillery rounds, revealing a massive conical crater. Han Ji lay spread-eagled at the bottom of the pit, her face grim as she slowly straightened her body inch by inch.

Four sharp, golden-red fangs emerged from Han Ji's mouth. The lower pair extended just over an inch, while the upper pair gradually lengthened to about an inch.

Han Ji's bright eyes were also overlaid with a dense crimson hue. Her round, sweet voice became deep and hoarse, like the roar of a wild beast. Long, sharp claws extended from her fingertips, measuring two feet long and wreathed in crimson corpse-fire. Countless streams of blood gradually gathered around her, melting together to form a churning cloud of gore.

"Little fellow, you didn't let on. This auntie is a bit sore from your attack," Han Ji chuckled sinisterly, squinting and slowly licking her lips, revealing a cold smile of one who has found an interesting challenge. "Such a stout man, such surging vital energy. Sucking his blood must be greatly invigorating. This man’s cultivation must be at the early Void Realm, right?"

The brute stared at Han Ji in astonishment. "What monster are you? Why aren't you hurt at all?"

Han Ji ignored what she considered a foolish question. She was the progenitor of all zombies, the Zhen (True Form) of heaven and earth, and the characteristic of a zombie is incomparably resilient flesh. If it were Han Ji’s original physical body, its formidable physique would have surpassed even the Saintly Body of a Clear Saint. It could be said that what Han Ji once possessed was one of the strongest physiques in this universe. Though she was somewhat down on her luck now, how could a mere Body Cultivator at the Void Realm possibly harm her?

With a mocking laugh, Han Ji suddenly flashed forward with lightning speed, appearing before the brute.

With a grasp and a hook of her ten fingers, Han Ji's two-foot-long claws sank entirely into the brute’s left and right ribs. She opened her large mouth and viciously bit down on the brute's carotid artery, greedily sucking down the man’s abundant essence. A loud, satisfying gurgle escaped Han Ji's throat, sounding like a ten-year veteran enjoying a bowl of steaming beef noodles.

The brute roared in agony, rising up with his thick arms and attacking Han Ji's head, neck, back—everywhere he could reach—desperately. The heavy impact shattered the ground beneath them repeatedly, but no matter how hard he struck, Han Ji held onto his body resolutely, not yielding an inch. His punches against Han Ji were like wooden hammers striking a mountain cast in alloy; his knuckles were nearly shattered, yet Han Ji remained completely unharmed.

Seventeen burly men charged in from the distance, roaring in unison, "Demon! Let go of our Big Brother!"

Han Ji graciously released the brute, whose essence and spirit had been entirely sucked away, and let out a comfortable burp. She spread her hands and smiled faintly. "This auntie cherishes her younger generation. Tsk, tsk, you asked me to let go, so I let go."

Gazing greedily at the seventeen strong men before her, Han Ji clapped her hands with delight. "Oh my, more delicious food delivered right to my door! Hehe!"

With a forceful kick, she shattered the desiccated corpse of the first brute into dust. Han Ji’s body suddenly left several afterimages in the air.

Han Ji’s combat experience was too rich. She wasted not a single bit of energy when moving, nor did any energy leak out. Her speed had surpassed the limit of what the consciousness of these seventeen men could lock onto, yet she produced no sonic boom. As soon as the afterimages appeared, she was in front of another strong man. Just as before, she plunged her hands into the man's ribs and savagely bit down on his carotid artery, once again gleefully sucking down his vital blood.

The other sixteen men were utterly terrified. Their eyes could not capture Han Ji’s movement, nor could their consciousness detect how she moved. They only knew that in the blink of an eye, another one of their brothers had fallen into the hands of this female demon. In the span of a single breath, this brother’s body had shriveled by more than half.

"Kill!" A frenzied roar burst from the mouths of the strong men. They drew out sixteen identical octagonal purple-gold hammers, gripping the long handles, surging all their true essence, and unleashing all their strength toward Han Ji’s surroundings.

With a tremendous sound, the sixteen heavy hammers struck Han Ji simultaneously.

With a muffled cry, the strong man Han Ji was tightly holding was shaken into fragments by the immense force of his own brothers' assault, dying instantly. As for Han Ji, she merely shook her arm as if unaffected, glancing dismissively at the other men. "Not bad, you have millions of pounds of force, but that's not enough. A few million pounds of brute strength is still worlds away from the divine ability to move mountains and overturn seas."

The true Immortals toyed with the sun and moon as if playing; their endless divine powers could use star dust and sky cities as mere toys. The few million pounds of strength in these men's hands amounted to nothing compared to the formidable divine abilities Han Ji was accustomed to in the past.

With a casual sweep, she struck sixteen palms. All sixteen men were hit in the chest. The powerful palm force shattered their hearts and meridians, while simultaneously injecting a strand of Yin-evil Corpse Qi, blasting their Nascent Souls into fragments. Although Han Ji had only recovered to the Void Realm in terms of cultivation, the insight, experience, foundation, and cultivation techniques of these men were vastly inferior. There was a gap between them in every aspect; these men were no match for her.

The surrounding blood swept inward, and another sixteen desiccated corpses, drained of essence and blood, were heaped haphazardly on the ground.

All of this took only five breaths of time. Eighteen Void Realm Body Cultivators were completely drained by Han Ji. Han Ji let out a comfortable burp and stretched lazily.

On a small warship floating amidst the white clouds in the distance, Goloman watched Han Ji's figure, his body involuntarily trembling. A crystal orb floated beside him, displaying the amount of destructive power Han Ji had unleashed during the combined strike of the sixteen strong men. Such destructive force could punch massive holes in a White Wing-class battleship, yet Han Ji hadn't sustained a single scratch.

"Too terrifying!" Goloman slumped onto the command seat, great beads of sweat rolling down his face.

Yan Wu Asura watched Han Ji's figure excitedly, beaming. "Such formidable power! I initially doubted their origins, but now it seems quite possible they are subordinates of that old scoundrel, Daoist Mu. This woman... if she could be offered up..."

"This would be a great merit!"

Goloman wailed hysterically. "Don't even think about capturing, trapping, or killing her for now, or we will all be in terrible trouble!"

Yan Wu Asura glanced coldly at Goloman, her finger lightly pressing against his vital lower region. She said softly, "You will be in big trouble. It won't be my trouble."

Sensing Goloman’s uncontrollable arousal resurfacing, Yan Wu Asura gently shook her head. "Hurry and cultivate the technique I taught you, or you won't even have the ability to dote on me for a day without utterly destroying yourself through doting!"

Smiling seductively, yet her eyes remaining cold and emotionless, Yan Wu Asura lightly turned her body and suddenly commanded sternly, "Activate the Ten Directions Hell God-Trapping Formation!"

A low howl accompanied an invisible wave that spread far. Han Ji, standing amid the ruins of the arena and chuckling softly, sensed the strange fluctuation.

Just as she was trying to discern the source of the wave, a gust of cold wind suddenly whipped up, and ten black vapors descended from the sky, rapidly enclosing the entire palace complex.

Hundreds of towering bone gods and demons, each a hundred feet high, manifested from the black vapors. They sat solemnly around Han Ji, chanting the Buddhist demon-subduing scripture, the Vajra Sutra.

Han Ji paused for a moment, and then the surroundings seemed to collapse. Her feet softened, and she was trapped in a pitch-black void.

A peculiar demon god, entirely black and possessing six arms, floated in this void. It gripped Han Ji tightly with both hands, and numerous bizarre runes rapidly attached themselves to Han Ji's skin.

Han Ji felt her soul shake, her vision went black, and she lost all consciousness. (To be continued. For the next installment, please visit... For more chapters, please support the author and read the legitimate version.)