If I, a death row inmate, am not to become a demon, am I to become a member of the Imperial Guard?

The broken piece of bronze bone lay quietly in the center of the altar.

There was no eerie light, no terrifying pressure.

It was like an ordinary piece of scrap copper, forgotten here.

But Zhou Yang's eyes were glued to it.

He could even feel his heart racing, his blood rushing to his eardrums. Not out of fear, but the instinctive excitement of a hunter seeing his apex prey.

He slowly raised his hand and reached towards the broken bone.

The movements were slow, with a slight, almost imperceptible tremor in the fingertips.

The closer he got, the more he felt a strange sense of repulsion. It wasn't a conflict of power, but more like... a lack of acceptance of his status. It was like a commoner trying to touch the crown of imperial power, an insurmountable chasm between them from the start.

His fingertips finally touched the cold bronze surface.

Tentacles are cold.

The next moment, an unimaginably powerful force surged wildly from his fingertips into his meridians! It wasn't just ordinary true qi, nor was it any kind of internal energy. It was more ancient, more domineering, like a true dragon that had slumbered for billions of years, opening its golden eyes at this moment.

Zhou Yang's muscles tensed instantly.

He groaned, his face turning deathly pale.

The force was so immense that his body felt like a small sac forcibly filled with water, about to burst open at any moment.

Just when he thought he was about to give up, he felt a sudden burning sensation in his chest.

The ancient tortoise shell suddenly lit up, the golden light penetrating the clothes, not dazzling, but carrying an undeniable majesty.

hum-

A slight tremor.

The violent power surging into his body seemed to have hit an invisible wall, and was forcefully bounced back. It flowed down Zhou Yang's arm, back into the broken bone, creating a visible ripple.

Zhou Yang staggered back two steps before regaining his balance.

He looked down at his fingers; they were unharmed. He then touched his chest; the luster of the tortoise shell had faded, as if nothing had happened.

But the pain, the feeling of being filled with power and almost tearing the body apart, still lingered in the nerve endings.

"Oh."

Zhou Yang grinned, but his smile was tinged with bitterness.

Sure enough, good things don't always come so easily.

Just as his thoughts were turning, a hoarse, ancient voice, as if coming from the bronze artifact itself, echoed in the secret room.

The voice had a metallic, abrasive quality; each word felt like a file scraping across one's nerves.

"The dragon bone only recognizes those destined for calamity."

Zhou Yang raised his head and looked at the bronze instrument connected to his bloodline. The Supervisor was right behind it.

"Looks like I'm the unlucky one." Zhou Yang dusted off his sleeves, his tone as relaxed as if he were discussing the weather.

The hoarse voice ignored his teasing and continued to slowly rise.

"To take it away, we need to rekindle its core using 'fuel' that it approves of."

"Fuel?" Zhou Yang raised an eyebrow. "My own flesh and blood?"

He made a joke, but his mind was racing with analysis.

The supervisor sent him here, went to great lengths, and set up this trap; he certainly didn't intend for him to die on the spot. This is more like a... qualification test.

As the words fell, the surface of the bronze instrument in front of Zhou Yang began to change.

The intricate markings that were already in place, shimmering with light, eventually converged at the very top. A brand new marking appeared out of thin air.

A number follows that scale mark.

A number that made Zhou Yang's breathing stop.

【100】

The unit is unknown.

But Zhou Yang immediately understood what it meant.

He instinctively closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking deep into his body. There, a brazier of life flickered, its flames representing his remaining time.

He carefully considered it.

After defeating the old man, he gained a significant amount of lifespan. Various events followed, some depleting his lifespan, others replenishing it. Overall, his current fortune is quite substantial.

It will probably be about 140 years from now.

In other words, if he activates this thing in front of him, it will take him away.

He needs to pay for a hundred years of his life.

After the transaction is completed, he will only have forty years left to live.

Forty years old.

For an ordinary person, it might be considered middle age. But for a cultivator, for a member of the Imperial Guard living in this cannibalistic world, forty years is really not enough.

That means he will instantly go from a "millionaire" back to a penniless newcomer. Even more dangerous than when he first transmigrated.

Back then, at least he had a healthy body and hadn't been tainted by these countless karmic entanglements. Now, he's riddled with trouble. There's Qin Shuang, the Heavenly Principle Sect, and this unfathomable Supervisor.

Once his lifespan is greatly reduced and his strength declines, those wolves lurking in the shadows will immediately rush up and tear him to pieces.

Zhou Yang fell silent.

This was the biggest choice he had faced since his transmigration.

Choosing the left side offers a powerful weapon and unparalleled potential, but the price is becoming a fish on the chopping block, at the mercy of others.

Choosing the right side means saving your life and surviving, but you might be trapped in this game forever, becoming a pawn with no control over your own destiny.

For the first time, he felt truly troubled.

A lifespan of forty years.

The number felt like a cold branding iron, searing his heart. He recalled the despair he felt when he first came into this world, the fear of not knowing if he would still be alive when the sun rose tomorrow.

He spent so much effort and risked so much of his life to accumulate the wealth he has today.

Are we going to squander most of it here at once?

His gaze once again became uncontrollably fixed on the broken piece of bronze bone.

He knew that once he possessed it, many problems would cease to be problems. The gap in strength could be bridged with external means. He could "earn" back his lost lifespan in the shortest amount of time.

This is a huge venture investment.

If you win the bet, you'll rise to the top in one step.

If you lose the bet, you're doomed.

The room was deathly silent.

There was only the faint crackling sound of the torch burning.

Zhou Yang stood there for the full time it takes for an incense stick to burn. He didn't move or speak, like a stone statue.

Fine beads of sweat appeared between his brows.

Just as the supervisor's voice seemed about to ring out again, Zhou Yang suddenly moved.

He raised his head, his face devoid of the previous struggle and greed. In its place was an almost cold calm.

"A hundred years of lifespan," he said, his voice a little hoarse, "isn't cheap."

The hoarse voice didn't answer; it was simply waiting.

"But," Zhou Yang's tone shifted, a calculating smile slowly curving his lips, "who said I can only use one kind of 'fuel'?"

He pointed to the altar he had just walked past.

At the top of the altar, the dragon tooth whose power he had absorbed had now become dull and lifeless, like an ordinary stone.

"You brought me here to get that dragon tooth. That's my admission ticket." Zhou Yang's voice became clearer. "Now, I want to use that ticket to pay part of the fee."

For the first time, the supervisor's voice carried a hint of surprise.

"The dragon's saliva power within you is indeed a special kind of 'fuel.' But its purity... is insufficient to pay for such a large transaction."

"Ordinary fuel won't light a brazier properly; that's a problem with the fuel itself," Zhou Yang chuckled, slowly rolling up his sleeves to reveal his muscular forearms. "But what if we first refine the fuel itself to a higher purity?"

He did not wait for the supervisor's reply.

He took a deep breath, and a thought struck him.

A surge of immense power awakened within his dantian. It wasn't his true qi, but rather the dragon tooth power he had previously absorbed. This power had been suppressed and digested by him, and now it was being fully unleashed.

boom!

A power ten times more violent than when he touched the dragon bone exploded within him! His skin instantly turned crimson, and veins bulged like small snakes, spreading from his wrist to his neck.

Excruciating pain!

Excruciating pain!

This force was completely out of control; it seemed to be trying to burst his meridians and tear his flesh apart.

Zhou Yang gritted his teeth, sweat pouring down his forehead. His body was trembling violently, his bones creaking under the strain.

But he didn't stop.

He gritted his teeth and channeled a wisp of his pure life essence, like a fuse, plunging it fiercely into the raging dragon's saliva power.

"Give it to me... to refine!"

He roared.

What he needs to do is not simply mix the two forces.

He was using his own true energy as a catalyst and his own flesh and blood as a furnace to forcibly purify that dragon's saliva power! He was burning away all the impurities, leaving only the core, the purest source power!

This is an extremely crazy idea.

It's like detonating a bomb inside your body.

Zhou Yang felt his flesh and blood being burned, and his consciousness began to blur. He seemed to see the meridians in his body breaking inch by inch, and then being forcibly healed under the cleansing power of the dragon's saliva.

The pain penetrated to the bone marrow.

But his eyes were surprisingly bright.

Because he could sense that the violent power was being purified and compressed at an astonishing rate. It was transforming into a higher level of energy that he had never encountered before.

This energy is an invaluable tonic for any living being in this world.

For keel... it is the highest grade of "fuel".

"Is this enough?" Zhou Yang said fiercely to the empty secret room.

He raised his other hand and slammed it down on the bronze instrument in front of him.

He was not satisfied with using the power of ambergris to pay off his debt.

He wants to go big.

He not only had to burn the high-purity dragon saliva power he had just refined, but he also had to burn his lifespan!

But not a lifespan of one hundred years.

He intends to use his innate vital energy as a catalyst, the power of dragon's saliva as fuel, and ten years of his lifespan as a spark to ignite the entire transaction!

This is a game that only a genius, or rather a madman, could come up with.

Use the fuel to light the fuel, and then use the lit fuel to pay the bill.

"Thirty years!"

Zhou Yang roared inwardly.

He began burning away his own lifespan!

The flames in the brazier of life visibly extinguished a small portion. A massive surge of life energy erupted, colliding violently with the purified dragon's saliva power!

There was no explosion, but a perfect fusion!

A completely new, indescribably powerful energy formed in Zhou Yang's palm.

The energy presented a warm, reddish-gold color, quiet yet containing the terrifying power to incinerate the entire world.

hum-

The bronze instrument emitted a cheerful hum.

The 100-year mark representing the transactions shone brightly!

An invisible force firmly held Zhou Yang's hand to the instrument. He poured that crimson-gold energy into it without hesitation!

The light on the instrument was extremely bright!

The number 【100】starts to rapidly reverse!

【90】

【80】

【50】

【10】

【0】

The moment the numbers returned to zero, the entire instrument shuddered violently, and all the light instantly dimmed.

In the center of the altar, the broken bronze bone, which had been silent for countless years, slowly rose into the air.

It is no longer cold.

A layer of warm, golden light enveloped it.

Like a sleeping dragon, it opened its sleepy eyes at this moment.

Zhou Yang's body went limp, and he collapsed to the ground.

He was gasping for breath, feeling as if his entire skeleton had been ripped out. His face was as pale as paper, his lips were cracked, and he didn't even have the strength to move a finger.

He only has thirty years left to live.

It was less than he had expected. Purifying the dragon's saliva also consumed a significant portion of his own essence.

But as he looked at the fragment of the dragon's spine floating in mid-air, radiating a soft light, his eyes were full of smiles.

He won.

He leveraged minimal costs to generate maximum benefits. He turned the exam questions set by the supervisor into a transaction he orchestrated.

He struggled to sit up from the ground, leaning against the cold bronze instrument, looking at his "spoils of war".

The fragment was slowly drifting towards him.