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

The inspector covered his severed wrist and retreated.

Blood seeped from between his fingers, dripping onto the withered leaves with a soft splattering sound. He stared at Zhou Yang, his eyes bloodshot.

Zhou Yang didn't move.

He was counting silently.

ten years.

The system emitted a buzzing sound in his mind that only he could hear. It was like an old bell being struck hard, making his skull tingle.

[Is it confirmed that ten years of lifespan have been consumed?]

Zhou Yang licked his chapped lips.

confirm.

boom!

It felt as if a lump of red-hot coal had been stuffed into his dantian. The heat wasn't true qi, but rather the very essence of life burning within him. Zhou Yang could clearly feel something rapidly slipping away. It wasn't pain, but a more direct sense of being peeled away—like someone using a dull knife to scrape away his life rings, layer by layer.

My skin started to feel hot.

Bluish-black lines appeared first on his left cheek. These lines were as fine as hair, winding and twisting, like something alive wriggling beneath the skin. Soon, the lines spread to his neck and covered the back of his hand. Corpse lines.

Zhou Yang looked down at his palm.

The palm lines were covered, and the bluish-black veins throbbed beneath the skin. With each throb, the power increased.

The inspector's pupils constricted sharply.

"you……"

Zhou Yang didn't give him a chance to finish speaking.

The cultivation path of the Blood Shadow Nerve was running wildly within his body. Ten years of lifespan were used as fuel, and the progress bar was increasing at a visible speed.

getting Started.

Xiao Cheng.

Dacheng!

With a loud crash, as if a dusty door had been kicked open, Zhou Yang felt lighter.

It wasn't a matter of weight reduction, but rather the release of some kind of constraint. Blood flow increased tenfold, and muscle fibers strangely reorganized. He tried to raise his hand, his arm leaving a faint afterimage in the air.

The inspector suddenly rose up.

He couldn't wait any longer.

With his left hand, fingers joined like a knife, his inner energy condensed into a tangible sharpness, aimed straight at Zhou Yang's throat. This attack, unleashed in fury, tore through the air, emitting a piercing shriek.

Zhou Yang looked up.

In his view, the inspector's movements slowed down.

It wasn't that his opponent had actually slowed down, but rather that his perception speed had increased fivefold. Every subtle movement was broken down: the tremor of the shoulder, the exertion of the waist and hips, the trajectory of the extended fingers.

Zhou Yang turned to the side.

Its form became illusory.

That wasn't lightness skill, but rather the body performing an extreme back-and-forth movement in a short period of time. Three overlapping images remained on the retina, and the true body had already reached the left side of the Inspector.

The knife grazed his neck.

It only pierced the air.

The inspector was taken aback.

He had never seen such a movement technique before. It wasn't fast, but rather feinted. It was a blur of truth and falsehood, reality and illusion, like a wisp of blood mist that he couldn't grasp.

Zhou Yang made his move.

He didn't use a knife.

His right hand's five fingers came together, and his nails instantly grew longer. They were jet black, sharp, and gleamed with a metallic sheen. It was the manifestation of corpse poison condensed to its extreme, a limb mutation resulting from burning away his lifespan.

laugh!

Five blood-red shadows flashed by.

The inspector felt a chill run down his spine.

He lowered his head.

His robes were torn, and five claw marks stretched from his left shoulder to his right abdomen. The flesh was rolled back, so deep that bone was visible. Black blood seeped from the wounds, making a hissing, corrosive sound.

"ah!"

The inspector screamed and staggered backward.

He clutched his chest, his fingertips touching the edge of the wound. The flesh was melting, and black toxins spread along the blood vessels. The pain wasn't the pain of an external injury; it felt like something was gnawing at his internal organs.

Zhou Yang stood three steps away.

He looked at his fingers.

Pitch black as ink, sharp as a knife. Blood was still dripping from his fingertips—the blood of the Inspector.

"This is not martial arts."

The inspector's voice was hoarse, and his face was deathly pale. He stared intently at the corpse markings on Zhou Yang's body and at those eyes that gleamed with an eerie light.

"It's sorcery."

Zhou Yang flicked his fingers.

Blood splattered.

"A method that can kill is a good method."

The inspector's chest heaved violently. He suddenly recalled a passage from the sect's secret scriptures: "When the Corpse Emperor is born, his skin will show blue patterns, his claws will cleave through Vajra, and his blood shadow will be invisible."

The person before me bears a striking resemblance to the Corpse Emperor described in the records.

"Are you a remnant of the Heavenly Principle Sect?"

The inspector's voice trembled, "No, it's even more sinister than that... Who exactly are you?"

Zhou Yang did not answer.

He was thinking.

His ten-year lifespan had been used up, and his strength had indeed increased dramatically. But his opponent was still alive.

Although the inspector was seriously injured, his foundation remained intact. The fear in his eyes was fading, replaced by the madness of a trapped beast.

We can't give him a chance to catch his breath.

Zhou Yang closed his eyes.

Come again.

[Is it confirmed that ten years of lifespan have been consumed?]

confirm!

This time, the pain was doubled.

Zhou Yang felt as if someone had poured molten iron into his veins. The corpse markings on his skin darkened, turning from bluish-black to jet black. Black blood began to seep from the corners of his eyes, trickling down his cheeks.

He opened his mouth and exhaled a breath of stale air.

The aura was black and had a putrid stench.

The inspector watched this scene in horror.

Burning one's lifespan in exchange for power is not a righteous method, nor even a demonic one. At least the demonic path emphasizes gradual progress and the limits of the physical body's endurance.

The person in front of me is basically self-immolating.

Trading life for a move.

"madman……"

The inspector turned and ran.

He was afraid.

No mission, no achievement, nothing is more important than life. This man is a monster in human skin; it's not worth fighting him.

Zhou Yang opened his eyes.

Everything in sight turned blood red.

He saw the inspector's back, the trajectory of the true energy flowing within the other's body, and the heart pounding violently with fear.

run?

Zhou Yang grinned.

His lips twitched, drawing out the corpse-like markings on his face, making him look particularly ferocious.

He bent his knees and lowered his waist.

The soil beneath my feet sank silently, forming a footprint about an inch deep.

After mastering "Blood Shadow Nerves," the accompanying killer move was finally unlocked.

Nine flashes of blood shadow.

First flash.

Zhou Yang disappeared.

Only a fleeting afterimage remained, which dissipated with a gust of wind. The true form appeared above the inspector's head as if by teleportation, its five fingers forming claws, and it slashed down.

The inspector sensed a deadly crisis.

He suddenly looked up, pushed his palms upward, and his entire body erupted with internal energy, forming a wall of energy above his head.

Zhou Yang's claws landed on the air wall.

creak-

A teeth-grinding, grinding sound.

The protective barrier held for a moment before shattering like glass. The pitch-black claws continued their descent, leaving five bloody afterimages in their wake.

The inspector desperately raised his arms to block.

Click!

The sound of bones breaking was crisp and clear.

His right arm bones shattered inch by inch, and his left arm was torn open with three bloody gashes. The inspector was slammed into the ground by this immense force, sending dirt flying and creating a three-foot-deep, human-shaped crater.

Zhou Yang landed at the edge of the pit.

He looked down at the inspector at the bottom of the pit.

The other person was a mangled mess. His arms hung limply at his sides, his chest was caved in, and he was gushing black blood. The blood hissed and emitted white smoke as it came into contact with the air.

"Didn't you want to arrest me?"

Zhou Yang's voice changed.

His voice became hoarse, like two stones rubbing against each other.

"Now, I'm standing here."

The inspector opened his mouth, as if to say something, but spat out a mouthful of blood. His eyes were unfocused, and his life force was rapidly fading away.

Zhou Yang raised his hand.

Prepare to deliver the final blow.

But at that moment, his body swayed.

A lifespan of twenty years was burned out in less than fifteen minutes. The side effects kicked in.

My vision went black, my ears rang like a tidal wave, and my legs felt like they were filled with lead. The marks on my skin began to fade, but not in a normal way; instead, they peeled off piece by piece like ashes from burnt paper.

Zhou Yang gritted his teeth.

Can't fall down.

We must not collapse here.

He forced himself to breathe and looked at the inspector at the bottom of the pit. The other man was barely breathing, but he wasn't quite dead yet.

Zhou Yang turned around.

Step by step, we walked out of the forest.

Every step felt heavy, like walking on cotton. Blood was flowing from the wound on his back, but he could no longer feel the pain.

Behind him, the inspector's eyes were still open, staring intently at Zhou Yang's back.

The silhouette stretched long in the setting sun.

Like a ghost, like a demon, but never like a human.

The wind rustled through the treetops, making a mournful sound. Zhou Yang stepped out of the woods and saw Qin Shuang waiting there with two horses.

She looked at Zhou Yang's face, at the lingering corpse aura on his body, and frowned deeply.

"How much did you burn?"

"Twenty years."

Zhou Yang took the reins, his hands trembling.

"Including the previous years, fifty years."

Qin Shuang remained silent for a moment, then mounted her horse.

Is it worth it?

Zhou Yang also mounted his horse, his movements somewhat clumsy. Sitting on the horse, he glanced back at the woods.

"If I don't die, it's worth it."

The two horses kicked up dust and galloped off to the north.

The setting sun cast their shadows on the ground, one in front of the other, stretched very long.