He has been reincarnated through countless worlds, adorned with billions of mythological terms!

got used to.

This world is dangerously dangerous.

In other worlds, he could at least survive by absorbing energy, but here the lockdown was too severe—he was so close, so very close, that he would have had to use the return crystal.

The boy in the wheelchair tilted his head slightly.

The movement was incredibly strenuous—the remaining muscles in the neck and shoulders struggled to pull the bones together, and with each turn, the cervical spine made a faint cracking sound.

He looked out the window.

There was nothing outside the window.

Blue sky, white clouds, and a few sparrows hopping around on the telephone pole.

Everything seemed normal, but he knew something was wrong.

His alter ego in Castro died.

The instant his clone vanished, information flooded his consciousness like a burst dam: Tai Cangxi, clad in silver armor and a black robe, descended from the sky, holding a long halberd upside down.

The law of judgment dictates that words spoken become law.

He destroyed the entire fortress with a single blow and wiped out dozens of reincarnators with a wave of his hand.

The information was both complete and chaotic.

The last thing the clone saw before it died was a silvery-white light falling from the sky, and then its consciousness ended.

The boy frowned.

On the deformed face, this movement looked particularly strange—as the brows furrowed, several irregular wrinkles appeared on the skin near the temples.

Tai Cang Xi Zhi.

Of course he knew that name.

The movie "The God of Justice" which became a global hit a few years ago features a fictional god of justice who is in charge of killing and fighting.

The actor who played the young Tai Cang in the movie also played Xi Sheng Yuan Tong in another work.

At the time, he thought it was just a movie.

Now, a fictional god appears in reality, wielding the laws of judgment, destroying the fortress with a single blow and annihilating dozens of reincarnators.

That means that the actor was not an ordinary actor.

He may be the original form of Xi Sheng Yuan Tong, or he may be the original form of Taicang Xi Zhi.

The boy remained silent for a long time.

The sky outside the window was very blue, so blue that it didn't seem like a sky about to be shrouded in divine punishment.

"……interesting."

He lowered his head and looked at his mutilated body.

No hands, no feet, skull deformity, intellectual disability.

His lips twitched slightly, whether in a bitter smile or self-mockery, it was hard to tell.

Sometimes he wonders if he is not the original being.

【Transform into Myriad Forms】—This is the innate divine power he comprehended when he failed to transcend the tribulation to become an immortal in his original world.

It's not an ordinary clone technique, but something I comprehended when I almost became an immortal; it could even be called my innate divine power.

The core of this technique is not "creating clones", but "becoming clones".

When you cultivate to the highest level, you can no longer distinguish whether you are your true self or an avatar.

Because each clone possesses a complete sense of self, and each believes itself to be the true original.

Consciousness can switch freely between clones, or it can be allowed to develop independently and then be retrieved when the time is right.

He didn't know whether he was the one being recycled or the one being left to fend for himself.

Perhaps the real entity is already hiding in some safe corner, and he is just a pawn thrown out to explore the way.

Perhaps he doesn't have a clone at all; he is the original body.

Perhaps the two shouldn't be distinguished in the first place.

he does not know.

I don't want to know.

Just being alive is enough.

No matter what form it takes, no matter where it is, no matter how long it will last—just being alive is enough.

Even if you are the one being devoured, as long as your consciousness remains alive, you'll be fine.

This is also why he was able to comprehend this technique—it was a perfect match for his temperament.

But at that moment, he felt a pang of heart palpitation.

He had experienced this feeling far too many times, and each time it meant the same thing—danger was approaching.

And it's not just any ordinary danger.

It was the kind of danger that could make him disappear from this world completely.

The boy's breathing quickened for a moment, then quickly returned to normal.

He has no hands and cannot make a fist.

Without feet, it cannot escape.

But he is conscious, and more importantly, he has a clone.

The clones, scattered throughout China, sometimes disguised themselves as ordinary people, sometimes infiltrated groups of cultivators, and sometimes even infiltrated official agencies.

Each clone is his eye, his ear, his extension.

Danger is coming; he can't run away, but he can use his clones to deal with it.

If he can't even handle a clone, then there's no point in running away—after all, he's not sure if he's the original body anyway. Even if the original body dies and another clone becomes the original body, it's still him.

The boy closed his eyes, and his consciousness began to synchronize with his clones scattered in various locations.

Information floods in like a tide, requiring filtering, screening, and comparison.

He found it.

From the direction of Castro, an aura is approaching the Chinese border at an incredible speed.

The aura was incredibly strong—so strong that his clone immediately severed the connection upon sensing it, fearing being tracked in reverse.

Initial stage of fusion.

The result of burning through his lifespan is an unstable realm, with obvious signs of collapse in his aura, like a machine about to fall apart, desperately rushing towards the finish line.

The target of that aura was him.

The boy opened his eyes.

"Sigh, there's no escaping it."

The voice was so calm it didn't sound like it was about himself.

He has no hands, no feet, and can't even walk, let alone face a Reincarnation expert in the early stage of the Fusion Realm.

The corner of his mouth twitched again.

This time it's confirmed: a bitter smile.

The moment the Korean wind rushed into the border of China, I felt an extremely thin golden light film brushing against my body.

The light membrane neither blocked him nor attacked him, nor did it even issue a warning.

It simply brushed past—like a spring breeze across a lake, like a mother's hand stroking a baby's cheek. So gentle it was almost unbelievable.

But Han Feng's hair stood on end in that instant.

Because at that moment, he truly felt the approach of death.

He shook the thought out of his mind and continued eastward.

At full speed in the initial stage of fusion, they arrived in front of the target in just a few steps.

Han Feng no longer felt pain—or rather, he had gotten used to it.

Burning one's lifespan, extracting spiritual veins, forcibly breaking through... the triple overdraft had long since burned away all the pain receptors.

He's currently in a state similar to a computer overclocked to its limit, with all the indicator lights flashing and all the alarms screaming.

But he turned off all the alarms, leaving only one thought:

Find the person with the authority and kill them.

Small town.

Residential building.

That unassuming house.

The Korean wave is here.

He stood in mid-air, looking down at the six-story residential building.

The solar water heater on the rooftop lay crookedly, and large patches of paint had peeled off the walls, revealing the gray-black cement underneath.

Several bags of trash that hadn't been thrown into the bins were piled up next to the trash cans downstairs, emitting a faint sour smell.

very common.

Such buildings are so common that you can see them in any corner of any city.

But Han Feng's brows furrowed slightly—he sensed it.

There was an extremely faint presence in that room.

Qi Refining Period?

The owner of this aura is probably at the first or second level of Qi Refining, not even a decent cultivator.

Han Feng's brows furrowed even more.

This is the same person who has been causing trouble right under his nose for three years, with hundreds of people escaping from the Castro border every month, someone he hates to the core but can never find.

Qi Refining Stage?

Let alone the Qi Refining stage, even a Reincarnated being in the Nascent Soul stage would be nothing more than a slap in the face of his early Integration stage cultivation.

What gives this person the right to access this information?

Han Feng did not rush to make a move.

He probed into the room with his senses, like an invisible snake, slithering through the cracks in the walls and silently spreading to every corner.

The furnishings inside the house were very simple.

A bed, a table, and a wheelchair.

Next to the wheelchair was an enamel bowl containing half a bowl of cold porridge.