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

Zhou Yang stared at the chessboard.

Opposite him sat the ethereal figure formed from black mist. The old man's face was indistinct, only his eyes shone eerily, like two pebbles dipped in ink.

On the chessboard, black and white pieces are locked in a fierce battle. The white pieces, like dragons, are coiled in the four corners, while the black pieces are confined to one corner, their liberties blocked down to only half. This is a dead end, a classic case of a large dragon being slaughtered.

The old man's illusory figure held a white chess piece, black mist swirling around his fingertips. The piece hovered in mid-air, hesitant to fall.

"Kid, you lost."

The sound was like it was being squeezed out of a broken bellows, with a harsh metallic scraping.

Zhou Yang didn't respond. He placed his left hand on his knee and reached into his robes with his right. His fingertips touched something.

cold.

hard.

It was the jade pendant engraved with the words "reversal".

The edge of the jade pendant prickled his fingertip, causing a slight stinging pain. This pain brought him back to his senses.

Zhou Yang looked up, his gaze sweeping across the chessboard. The white pieces were arranged in a very regular pattern, cycling every nine moves, pressing forward relentlessly, just like the spinning wheel of that previous meat grinder.

Step 8.

The old man's illusory wrist paused slightly, a prelude to the ninth step.

Zhou Yang's lips twitched slightly.

He suddenly pulled out his right hand and slapped the jade pendant onto the chessboard.

Snapped.

A crisp sound.

The jade pendant shattered into three pieces. A beam of green light shot out from the crack, slithering into the wood grain of the chessboard like a snake.

The old man's phantom image froze in mid-air.

The white piece that had been hanging there fell onto the chessboard, rolled twice, and came to rest in the corner.

"you……"

The phantom's voice changed tone, and the mist surged violently, like an inkwell being stirred.

Zhou Yang didn't give him time to react. He picked up a black chess piece, feeling its warmth on his fingertips. This chess piece was made of warm jade, but it was surprisingly hot at the moment.

He made his move.

The black stone is placed one square to the left of the center.

This move, placed within the white pieces' encirclement, seemed like a suicidal act, but it was like a sharp knife piercing the dragon's heart.

The chessboard trembled slightly.

The previously perfectly sealed white formation suddenly developed a crack. The dragon's life force had been severed.

The old man's illusory figure suddenly stood up, his form spreading out and then gathering again. He hurriedly reached for the white pieces, but his fingers pierced through the chess basket.

"impossible!"

The roar was filled with panic.

Zhou Yang sneered and placed another piece.

Snapped.

The black piece cuts off the white piece's right-wing communication.

The old man's illusory figure frantically tried to salvage the situation, his trembling fingers, formed from black mist, hastily picking up a white piece. He placed this move on the left flank, attempting to reconnect the energy channel.

Zhou Yang didn't even look at it before placing another piece.

Snapped.

The white piece on the right flank was captured, resulting in the loss of five pieces in a row.

The old man's illusory figure moved faster and more chaotically. He could no longer maintain his superior demeanor; the black mist surged like a tide, revealing a hideous outline beneath.

Zhou Yang's pace was as steady as if he were counting money.

step.

Two steps.

Ten steps.

The black stones advanced with unstoppable momentum, dividing the large white group into several pieces and systematically killing them one by one. The situation on the board was completely reversed, with black stones dominating and white stones lamenting their fate.

"No...stop!"

The old man's phantom screamed and raised his hand to overturn the chessboard.

Zhou Yang's eyes turned cold.

He held the last black stone between his index and middle fingers, raised it high, and then brought it down heavily.

The chess piece landed in the center of the chessboard.

The force was astonishing; the surface of the chessboard sank in by half an inch.

General.

In that instant, time seemed to stand still.

Immediately following was the sound of shattering.

Click.

A thin crack appeared on the chessboard, spreading from where Zhou Yang placed his piece, crawling across the entire surface like a spiderweb. The black and white pieces leaped up, colliding in mid-air and turning into dust.

The old man's phantom figure let out a scream that was not human.

The black mist was torn, stretched, and twisted by an invisible force, like a piece of cloth being violently ripped apart. From within the mist came the crisp sound of bones breaking, one after another, as dense as popping beans.

"ah--!"

The phantom expanded, then suddenly contracted, turning into a wisp of green smoke that rose up and disappeared without a trace in mid-air.

The illusion began to collapse.

The surrounding darkness receded like the tide, revealing the original outline of the stone chamber.

Zhou Yang stood there, his fingertips still holding half a black chess piece that hadn't yet been placed. He looked down at it; a wisp of black mist remained on the surface of the piece, burning his skin and causing a needle-like sting.

The pain was terrifyingly real.

Zhou Yang grinned and smiled.

Laughter echoed in the stone chamber, carrying a hint of ruthlessness and a touch of exhilaration.

He found it.

……

Thousands of miles away.

At the top of the barren mountain, there is a thatched hut.

An oil lamp was lit in the room, its wick as small as a bean, swaying in the draft.

The old man sat cross-legged on a futon, with a solid wood chessboard in front of him. The black and white pieces were locked in a fierce battle, with the white pieces having the upper hand and the black pieces on the verge of defeat.

Suddenly, the old man opened his eyes wide.

His chest heaved, his throat moved, and he opened his mouth, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

The blood was purplish-black and had a foul stench. It splattered on the chessboard, staining the white pieces that were about to kill the black dragon red.

The old man clutched his chest, his fingers digging into his clothes like hooks. His once ruddy face instantly turned ashen, his wrinkles deepening as if etched by a knife, making him appear ten years older in an instant.

His breath was weak and feeble, like a candle flickering in the wind.

He raised his hand with trembling hands, looking at the charred mark that had suddenly appeared on his palm—a mark of being struck by the backlash.

"Zhou...Yang..."

Two words were squeezed out from between his teeth, accompanied by blood and foam.

The old man coughed up another mouthful of blood, his body hunched over, his forehead pressed against the cold edge of the chessboard.

……

Within the illusion, Zhou Yang suppressed his smile.

He crouched down and picked up a fragment of the jade pendant from the ground. The fragment still retained a trace of warmth, the heat from the backlash just now.

He stared at the fragments for a long time, his eyes flickering.

Use the opponent's rules to harm the opponent's true nature.

This deal is extremely worthwhile.

Zhou Yang stood up and brushed the dust off his clothes. He looked up at the exit of the stone chamber, where the stone door was open, revealing the hazy sunlight outside.

He strode out, his steps light and quick.

Behind him, the shattered chessboard silently turned into a pile of wood chips, which were swept up by the wind and scattered in the corner.

The lights in the stone chamber were dim, and the lingering warmth of the ashes remained on the walls.

Zhou Yang walked to the end, where a stone platform rose up in front of him.

The tabletop is flat, with two characters engraved in the center: "Tianxuan".

The handwriting is archaic, as if worn smooth by the years.

The platform is surrounded by grooves, giving it a unique shape.

The groove is wide and deep, and its angle corresponds exactly to the outline of an object.

Zhou Yang looked down at his backpack.

My fingers touched the heavy iron box; the lid clicked softly, revealing a dark red metallic sheen.

It was the mechanical Qilin that was obtained from the altar three days ago.

He gently lifted the Qilin, feeling its cold, hard body.

The Qilin is made entirely of bronze, and its surface is covered with fine serrations.

Each tooth pattern resembles a precise keyhole.

It fits the shape of the groove perfectly.

Zhou Yang aligned the Qilin with the groove and slowly placed it in.

The metal lightly touched the stone wall, producing a low, tinkling sound.

Instantly, a low-frequency vibration came from the foundation.

The light in the stone chamber flickered, and the candle flames danced.

A deep, angry roar came from the distant echo wall.

"You mustn't destroy it!"

The sound was like an old man's ancient roar, echoing across every stone brick.

Zhou Yang raised an eyebrow slightly, a faint smile flashing in his eyes.

He ignored the sound, turned around and took out a black jade ring from his sleeve.

The ring is semi-transparent, and the recessed area inside looks like it's filled with dark mist.

He placed the ring on the Qilin's chest, lightly touching it with his fingertip.

A faint black mist began to seep from the surface of the ring, flowing along the patterns on the Qilin.

The mist condensed on the metal surface, wriggling as if it were alive.

"Smash!" Zhou Yang roared, his voice echoing in the stone chamber.

A faint light pattern appeared between his brows, which was the lifespan extraction mark recorded by the system.

The light patterns spread rapidly, traveling along the blood vessels to the chest.

A surge of intense power rose from the depths of his heart, impacting the internal structure of the Qilin.

The serrated teeth of the Qilin cracked, and metal fragments scattered everywhere.

The fragments fell around the groove, making a dull thud.

At the same time, the rock wall at the bottom of the platform began to crack.

A dark red furnace core was revealed, with scorching blood-red liquid rolling on its surface.

The liquid is like the blood vessels of a living body, pulsating incessantly.

Zhou Yang reached out and grasped the black jade ring, his fingertips covered in black mist.

He forcibly poured the black mist into the core of the furnace.

The mist collided with the blood-red liquid, producing a piercing hiss.

Blood churned, like a ripped wound.

The metal structure inside the core began to twist, emitting a sharp metallic clang.

Zhou Yang's lifespan rapidly depleted in that instant, and the aura within his body flickered faster.

He felt a sharp pain in his chest, as if it were being cut by a knife, but he did not stop.

"Shatter! Shatter!" The voice was even deeper, yet it carried an irresistible force.

The black mist spread through the core, forming a huge black vortex.

The vortex swallowed the blood-red liquid, then exploded violently.

Flames shot into the sky, rocks were thrown high into the air, and fragments scattered everywhere.

The walls of the stone chamber cracked from the tremors, sending dust flying.

The black jade ring on Zhou Yang's back emitted a bright blue light, illuminating his sweat-covered face.

He took a deep breath, and the pain in his chest lessened slightly.

The mechanical Qilin beside him had turned into fragments, scattered around the edge of the groove.

But a thin line of light appeared at the bottom of the groove, like a passage leading to a deeper part.

The light patterns slowly elongated, extending to the other side of the stone chamber.

Zhou Yang dispelled the black mist and gently patted the scattered fragments.

Each fragment emitted a faint blue light, like a lingering remnant of a soul.

He looked at the end of the light pattern, where there was a faint golden crack.

A space dotted with starlight could be vaguely seen through the crack in the door.

Zhou Yang stepped off the stone platform, his steps steady.

He glanced back at the old man's still-roaring voice, which was fading into the distance.

He had only one thought in his mind: to put this whole world into the palm of his hand.

He stepped across the light patterns, and his body was instantly enveloped in blue light.

In the light, his shadow was stretched out, like two parallel blades.

As the light faded, Zhou Yang found himself standing in an even larger stone chamber.

In the center of the new stone chamber stands a huge altar, on which sits an ancient jade object shaped like a star.

The ancient jade exudes a faint chill, which can be felt to the touch.

Zhou Yang reached out and grasped the ancient jade, feeling a chill that seeped straight into his bones.

He muttered to himself, "One more time."

The system's halo flashed on its chest, recording the new lifespan consumption.

The halo then faded away, as if it had never existed.

Zhou Yang turned and left the altar, his footsteps making a crisp tapping sound on the stone slabs.

The lights in the stone chamber were turned on again, illuminating the shadows behind him.

In the shadows, it seemed as if several pairs of dark eyes were watching.

He ignored him and continued forward.

Every step felt like stepping on an unfinished game of chess.

The door to the stone chamber closed slowly, leaving behind a faint warmth.

Zhou Yang's figure disappeared at the end of the dark corridor, leaving only the ancient jade still trembling slightly.