I am a full-level celestial master, you let me enter the strange talk of rules?

At this moment, Zhang Yangqing was standing on the edge of the highest tower of the castle, looking down at the land below that was being reborn from the ruins.

The night wind blew from the depths of the earth, carrying the smell of blood, as well as the scent of smoke and new life.

The eerie consciousness peered through his eyes, watching the miners weeping in the square, the long lines of people queuing for food, the busy figures of Eagle Eye and the old miners, and the ordinary residents of the former Qing Tong family territory.

From initial fear and hesitation, they gradually left their homes and began to clean up the shops affected by the war.

It remained silent for a long time before finally speaking.

Its fluctuations in consciousness carried a genuine sense of bewilderment: "Great God, tell me, aren't humans a very strange species?"

"Hmm?" Zhang Yangqing's consciousness responded lazily.

A strange consciousness made Zhang Yangqing's gaze sweep across the square: "Look at them, they are so weak. The disciples of the Qing Tong family have better equipment, more training, and higher cultivation than them. In a one-on-one fight, even a hundred miners might not be able to beat a single formal disciple."

Its voice revealed genuine bewilderment.

"But why do they still dare to pick up weapons, rush forward, and fight to the death with those who are much stronger than them?"

This is completely incomprehensible to a bizarre consciousness.

The bizarre creatures also fight and kill.

But they follow a cold, hard logic: fight if you can win, run if you can't, and die if you can't escape.

There was no fear, no hesitation, and no need for a reason.

But humans are different. Humans experience fear, trembling, and despair, yet they still manage to overcome all of that at some point and charge towards an enemy stronger than themselves.

Zhang Yangqing's consciousness stirred slightly.

He didn't answer directly, but remained silent for a moment before slowly speaking:
"Fear is an instinct of any living being, but what makes humans different from you is that they have things they want to 'protect'."

"Family, friends, lovers, dignity, faith. When these things are threatened, fear is no longer the only voice."

"What overcomes fear is not courage, but something deeper than fear."

The eerie consciousness fell silent.

It tried to understand, but it couldn't.

Strangely, he has no family, no friends, and nothing to protect.

They are born from pollution and chaos, following instinct and rules; death is the end, and living is killing.

The words Zhang Yangqing used—family, dignity, protection—were like casting pearls before swine to its mind.

"I don't understand," it honestly admitted.

Zhang Yangqing did not laugh at it.

His tone remained calm: "It's right that you don't understand. The supernatural are not human; they live a different way."

The eerie consciousness felt that these words were somewhat hurtful, but it couldn't refute them.

Zhang Yangqing suddenly said, "Since you're just idling around anyway, why don't you try being a human for a few days?"

The eerie consciousness paused, startled: "Huh?"

Zhang Yangqing casually explained, "The rules for the next stage haven't appeared yet, so there's nothing urgent for now. You can experience human life and emotions as I am. This will be helpful for your future cultivation."

He wouldn't understand anything else when you talked to the strange consciousness, but he understood when you talked about cultivation.

"Okay! Leave it to me!" it immediately agreed, even a little excited.

The next moment, Zhang Yangqing's consciousness receded like the tide, sinking into the depths of his sea of ​​consciousness, entering a kind of "idle" state.

He completely surrendered control of his body to the strange consciousness.

The eerie consciousness moved its fingers and turned its neck.

Unlike the control it had during previous battles, it now possessed complete body control without Zhang Yangqing's interference.

A novel feeling arose spontaneously.

It looked down at itself, still wearing that tattered miner's uniform stained with blood. It put the holy sword wrapped in rags at its waist somewhere; it dared not use it, could not use it, and it felt uncomfortable having it by its side.

It took a deep breath, stepped down from the tower, and surveyed its territory.

This was the first task it set for itself. As it crossed the square, the miners along the way stopped what they were doing and looked at it with awe, almost as if it were a god.

Some people instinctively bowed in respect, while others were so excited they were incoherent: "Big...Big Brother!" "It's the Boss!" "The Boss is out!"

The eerie consciousness walked past expressionlessly, but inwardly it was quite pleased.

It takes this for granted, thinking, "I am the strong one, and the strong should enjoy this kind of treatment."

It led a group of miners who volunteered to follow it and began to wipe out the remaining disciples of the Qing Tong family who had fled and had not yet been brought to justice.

Some of these people fled overnight after hearing that their clan leader had been killed, while others happened to be on a mission at the time and were lucky enough to escape.

But they are still alive and pose a potential threat to the newly established miners' regime.

During the encirclement and suppression, the eerie consciousness demonstrated astonishing efficiency.

It doesn't need maps or intelligence; it can pinpoint the Qing Tong family remnants hiding deep in mines, abandoned tunnels, or even disguised as ordinary miners, all by sensing the scent of their "prey."

Every move was swift and decisive, without any unnecessary actions or hesitation.

On one occasion, a miner was struck in a desperate counterattack by a disciple of the Qing Tong family during a chase. His abdomen was slashed open with a deep wound, blood gushing out, and he was on the verge of death.

The eerie consciousness walked over expressionlessly and placed its hand on the miner's wound.

The strange energy within it surged into the miner's body, not as pollution or erosion, but as pure energy that forcibly stopped the bleeding and stimulated cell regeneration.

This is not its innate ability, but a skill it learned by reversing Zhang Yangqing's "devouring" technique: energy can be absorbed, and naturally it can also be sent out.

The miners' wounds stopped bleeding and healed at a speed visible to the naked eye.

His eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the bizarre consciousness, his lips trembling, finally managing to utter only a few words: "Boss, this..."

Then, this burly man, whose face was covered in blood, was so moved in front of everyone that he almost shed tears.

In the past, this would have been considered a 'fatal injury,' and he would have been halfway to hell.

But now, he has actually been saved.

The eerie consciousness withdrew its hand, turned and left without saying a word.

But it was somewhat confused.

Why is he crying? It thought, I just saved him casually, and I didn't lose much energy. How much energy would I have to lose to not save him? So why is he so moved?

It doesn't understand.

Similar scenarios occurred one after another.

While clearing an abandoned mine area contaminated by strange creatures, it ventured in alone and slaughtered several low-level strange creatures that inhabited it.

While those strange creatures were no match for it, they posed a deadly threat to ordinary miners.

When it emerged from the mine carrying the last hideous, grotesque head, the miners waiting outside erupted in deafening cheers.

"Our boss isn't even afraid of the supernatural!"

"With our boss around, we have nothing to fear!"

The eerie consciousness remained expressionless, yet a strange emotion, unlike anything it had ever experienced before, arose within it.

It couldn't explain what it was.

It just felt that the way these humans looked at it was a little different than before.

Previously, it was "awe" because of fear of its power.

Now, besides awe, there seems to be something else.

Trust? Dependence? Gratitude?

It can't tell the difference.

I've been busy all day.

When it returned to the castle, to the hastily prepared rest room that originally belonged to the Qing Tong clan chief, the moment it sat down, Zhang Yangqing's lazy voice echoed in its mind: "How does it feel? Is being human fun?" (End of Chapter)