Immortality: Grinding Experience Starting as a Paper Craftsman

The winter nights in Changning County were very cold, and the morning sun never rose.

Inside the woodshed, Gu Yan's finger had stopped bleeding. The wound had been frozen and repeatedly reopened, eventually forming a thick scab.

Compared to physical pain, each time a bamboo strip pierces your fingertip, you get that reassuring "+1" on the panel.

The thrill of seeing rewards with effort, coupled with the instinct for survival, is enough to numb all physical pain.

Gu Yan stopped what he was doing only when a pale ray of dawn pierced through the window paper.

At his feet were piles of all sorts of small paper effigies.

There are paper dogs, paper cranes, and paper insects with strange shapes.

He hadn't slept all night; his eyes were bloodshot, and he was frighteningly agitated.

Gu Yan brought up the control panel and took a look.

[Skill: Paper Making Technique (Minor Mastery)]

[Progress: 186/500]

Overnight, I gained more than 180 experience points.

If word got out about this paper-making speed, it would be enough to scare to death those veteran craftsmen who have been in this trade for decades.

But Gu Yan frowned.

not enough.

It's still too slow.

At this rate, he won't be able to break through to the Great Perfection realm two nights from now.

Moreover, after that night of experimentation, he discovered a fatal problem.

Paper offerings are nice, but they lack offensive power.

While a rudimentary level of paper-making can make paper figures move and even share a field of vision, the material that can be used is ultimately just ordinary paper.

He had just tried to control a paper dog to gnaw on the wood, but it didn't even scratch the bark; instead, it broke its own fragile paper teeth.

Ma San had practiced martial arts; he was tough and thick-skinned, and the short axe in his hand was a murder weapon stained with blood.

Trying to kill him with these fragile toys is nothing short of delusional.

We must find a way to strengthen the paper figure.

Just as Gu Yan was deep in thought, a noise came from the outer room.

It was Old Man Xu who got up.

Gu Yan gathered up the discarded paper offerings scattered on the ground, stuffed them into the stove to burn, and then pushed open the door and went out.

Inside the shop, Old Xu was bending over, cooking porridge.

Overnight, the old man looked ten years older. His already hunched back was even more bent, and his sparse white hair was disheveled, clearly indicating that he hadn't slept all night.

When Gu Yan came out, Old Man Xu paused for a moment, ladled out a bowl of rice soup so clear you could see the bottom, and then took out a steamed bun with mixed grains that was still warm from his body and stuffed it into Gu Yan's hand.

"Eat."

Old Xu's voice was bitter, carrying a heavy sense of age.

Gu Yan took the steamed bun without saying a word or being polite, and began to chew it heartily.

He needed physical strength, even if the steamed bun was as hard as a rock and made his throat sore when he swallowed it.

"Gu boy."

Old Xu watched Gu Yan wolf down his food, his cloudy eyes flickered, and he suddenly said in a low voice, "After you finish eating, you can leave."

Gu Yan paused, then looked up: "Where to?"

"Leave the city and head south."

Old Xu sighed, looking towards the door. "Those bastards from the Black Dragon Gang won't let it go even after taking a tael of silver. I'm old, this is my fate, I can't walk anymore. You're still young, there's no need for you to die here with this old man."

Gu Yan looked at the gaunt old man in front of him.

When the previous life starved to death by the roadside, it was this old man who gave it a bowl of hot soup.

Although Old Xu usually has a bad temper and often curses people, he has never been deprived of food in the past three months, even when business was bad and he couldn't make money.

In this dog-eat-dog world, this is an extremely rare act of kindness.

Gu Yan swallowed the steamed bun in his mouth and drank a big mouthful of hot porridge, finally feeling a little warm in his stomach.

"I'm not leaving."

Gu Yan put down his bowl, his tone as calm as if he were saying that the weather was nice today, "There are refugees and rebels everywhere outside the city. As an apprentice who can't even kill a chicken, I would die if I went out of the city."

"Staying in the city is the same as dying!" Old Xu stamped his feet anxiously.

"not necessarily."

Gu Yan stood up, wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and said, "Shopkeeper, how much of that thick hemp paper used for making paper houses do you have left? And tung oil, I need the stickiest kind."

Old Xu was taken aback: "What do you need those for? They're all expensive materials..."

"Let's do a big job."

Gu Yan didn't offer much explanation, but his eyes revealed an unwavering determination.

"Now that we've paid the protection money, we have to make our money back. I heard the Zhao family in the south of the city is having a funeral soon, so I'm thinking of making a big one to try my luck."

Looking into Gu Yan's dark, calm eyes, Old Xu inexplicably felt that this usually dull apprentice had become somewhat different today.

That look in his eyes didn't resemble that of a sheep ready to be slaughtered, but rather that of a wolf lurking in the shadows.

"Never mind, they're all in the storeroom. Go get them yourself."

Old Xu waved his hand and slumped down. "Anyway, it'll be taken away by those beasts sooner or later. Do whatever you want."

Gu Yan nodded, turned around and walked into the warehouse.

The moment he entered, his eyes sharpened.

He certainly wasn't going to hold a funeral for the Zhao family.

He wanted to hold a celebration for himself and a funeral for Ma San.

Ordinary yellow paper is too brittle, but this thick hemp paper is different.

This type of paper has extremely coarse fibers and is very tough; it is often used to paste windows to block wind and snow.

Gu Yan recalled the ancient armor he had seen in his previous life.

There is a type of armor called paper armor.

Multiple layers of flexible paper are stacked together, soaked in tung oil, and then air-dried to harden. The result is a material that is as tough as wood, lightweight, and resistant to arrows and slashes.

Since the paper figure is fragile, I will dress it in armor.

Not only that.

Gu Yan's gaze fell on a bundle of rusty thin wire in the corner, which was left over from the previous use of making large paper horse skeletons.

A smile played on his lips; he already had an idea in mind.

If you twist these wires into the paper figure's fingers and then sharpen them...

Those were ten boning steel knives.

There are only two days.

Gu Yan took a deep breath, picked up the thick stack of hemp paper and a jar of tung oil, and turned back to the woodshed.

This time, he's going to stab a real demon.

Close the door and shut the windows.

In the dimly lit room, Gu Yan began his frantic production.

Cut the paper, apply oil, air dry, and stack.

One floor, two floors, three floors...

Nine layers of hemp paper were stacked on top of each other, with each layer coated with thick tung oil and paste.

This specially made material was incredibly hard. Gu Yan's fingers were rubbed raw and bleeding from the rough paper surface, but instead of bandaging the wound, he directly mixed the oozing blood into the paste.

An ancient saying goes: "Offering blood to paper will naturally generate spiritual power."

Although he didn't know if it was true or not, he wouldn't let go of any opportunity that could increase his chances of winning.

As time went by, a tall and imposing figure gradually took shape under the dim light of the oil lamp.

It is no longer that ridiculous, colorful thing.

Its entire body has an eerie dark yellow color, which is the color of hemp paper soaked in tung oil and blood.

Its frame is made of three thick bamboo strips tied side by side, with fine iron wire wrapped around the joints.

Its hands were unusually long, with five sharpened iron spikes protruding from the tips of its fingers, gleaming coldly under the light.

If an outsider were to see this, they would surely exclaim: This is no ordinary paper effigy; it is clearly a torture device created for killing.

Based on the image of the executioner from his past life, Gu Yan made him a large red vest to cover his hideous muscle lines.

It was pitch black outside the window at this time.

For a full twelve hours, Gu Yan only drank a small half bowl of water.

He looked at the terrifying paper figure in front of him, which was a head taller than himself. Before he could feel truly satisfied, he felt an unprecedented weakness assaulting his mind, a sign that his mental energy was almost completely depleted.

But he dared not sleep, nor could he sleep.

The paper figure is still missing the final touch of finishing touches.

Gu Yan bit his tongue, spitting a mouthful of hot blood into the inkstone. He then picked up his brush, dipping it in a mixture of ink and blood.

He stared intently at the pale face that was only outlined.

"If you're going to kill someone, then you naturally need to have a murderous aura."

Gu Yan lowered his wrist and began to write with great strokes.

He painted a pair of upturned triangular eyes on that face, and his face was full of fierce flesh, revealing a menacing appearance.

The final stroke was made.

boom!

That familiar electric current surged through my body once again, even more intensely than when I advanced to the minor mastery stage.

Before Gu Yan's pale face appeared the notification panel that he had been longing for.

You have successfully created a special paper puppet: Iron-Boned Ferocious God (Unnamed)

[Quality: Premium]

【Feature 1: Toughness (Nine layers of oiled paper armor, capable of withstanding ordinary sword and blade strikes)】

【Characteristic 2: Bloodlust (Infused with the creator's blood essence, extremely sensitive to blood, will go berserk upon contact with blood)】

[Paper-making skill experience increased by 50!]

Current progress: 336/500

It became.

Gu Yan threw down his pen, leaned against the wall as if completely exhausted, and gasped for breath.

Although it hasn't reached the pinnacle yet, this exquisite paper figure has already surpassed the scope of ordinary paper-making techniques.

Just then, the tall executioner standing in the shadows did not become stiff and motionless like the paper figures before.

It slowly lowered its head.

The painted scarlet triangular eyes shifted slightly, staring intently at Gu Yan's bleeding fingers.

A feeling of hunger and longing, transmitted subtly through the mental connection, reached Gu Yan's mind.

It wants to drink blood.

Gu Yan showed no fear; instead, he grinned, revealing his chapped lips, and laughed silently.

In the dim light, the smile appeared even more sinister than the paper figure.

Are you hungry?

Gu Yan stretched out his hand, which was covered in wounds, and gently stroked the paper figure's cold, hard arm, whispering:

"Don't worry, I'll make sure you have a good meal tomorrow night."