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

Chaos erupted in the backyard of the Embroidered Uniform Guard headquarters.

The believers swarmed around like a disturbed horde of wasps, buzzing incessantly. Some rushed towards the scattered gold and silver, while others picked up the garment embroidered with the Chen family crest.

"This is a frame-up!" a cult member roared, his voice trembling.

Nobody listens to him.

A flash of light, and blood splattered. A Jinyiwei (Imperial Guard) swiftly brought his blade down, felling the man who was reaching for the money pouch. Blood splattered on the Jinyiwei's face, his eyes bloodshot.

"Take it down!"

Shouts rose and fell.

Zhou Yang stood in the shadows, watching it all. His face was expressionless, as if he were watching a play that had nothing to do with him. Chang Luo lay slumped on the ground, his eyes glazed over, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. He had become the best evidence.

Qin Shuang walked over and stood next to Zhou Yang, her gaze sweeping across the room.

"Clean and efficient," she said.

Zhou Yang didn't say anything.

He watched as the followers were pinned to the ground and bound like dumplings. Those who resisted were cut down on the spot without hesitation. The methods of the Embroidered Uniform Guard were always direct and effective.

The commotion did not last long.

The courtyard fell silent again, save for heavy breathing and suppressed sobs. Seven or eight corpses lay on the ground, blood pooling in small puddles. The air was thick with the pungent smell of blood and earth.

"Take them away," Qin Shuang ordered her subordinates. "Interrogate them separately, and don't let them collude."

"yes!"

Chang Luo was also dragged away by two Imperial Guards, like a dead dog. He didn't utter a single word the entire time.

Zhou Yang then spoke.

"I'll handle one of them."

Qin Shuang glanced at him and nodded. "Whatever you say."

Zhou Yang walked towards a cult member who was tightly bound. The man was burly, but he was trembling all over, and he looked at Zhou Yang as if he were a ghost.

Zhou Yang crouched down and picked up a bloodstained stone from the ground. The stone wasn't big, just the right size to hold in his hand. He weighed it in his hand.

"How many strongholds does the Heavenly Principle Sect still have in Anyang County?" Zhou Yang asked, his voice calm.

The cultist's lips trembled. "I...I don't know...I'm just an outsider..."

Zhou Yang didn't speak. He raised his hand and tapped the cultist's knee lightly with the stone.

"Click."

A crisp sound.

The cultist let out a scream that was not human, and his whole body curled up like a shrimp. Cold sweat instantly soaked his back.

"I asked, 'Outpost'?" Zhou Yang's voice remained calm, as if he were discussing the weather.

He reached out, and a corpse puppet silently appeared behind him. The puppet was covered in dirt and blood, and its withered fingers rested on the cultist's shoulder. The cold touch abruptly stopped the cultist's screams; he froze, as if frozen in place.

"Three...no, five..." he shouted incoherently, "The dye shop in the south of the city, the butcher shop in the west, the general store at the north gate, and...and the dock warehouse in the east! And one...one underground, a contact point...I'll tell you, I'll tell you everything!"

Zhou Yang stood up and threw the stone away.

He got what he wanted.

In the following days, the nights in Anyang County were no longer peaceful.

The first to disappear was the dyehouse in the south of the city.

At night, the two Christian guards watching over the dye house felt a bit cold. A draft of wind blew in through the cracks in the window, making the lamplight flicker. One of them yawned and got up to close the window.

He had just walked to the window when a dark shadow pressed against it.

That's not a human figure.

The shadowy figure's face was withered like tree bark, with no eyes, only a dark, gaping mouth. It licked the windowpane, leaving a sticky trail.

The believer made a hoarse sound in his throat and urinated.

The windowpane shattered silently. Two withered hands reached in and grabbed his neck. On the other side, his companion was dragged into the darkness under the table before he could even scream.

A moment later, several corpse puppets emerged from the dye shop. Their bodies seemed slightly fuller than before. They blended into the night like ghosts and disappeared at the end of the alley.

In the dye house, blood was spilled all over the floor, slowly seeping into the dye vat, obscuring the color.

The second one is the butcher shop in the west of the city.

The butcher was a man of immense strength. Hearing the commotion, he rushed out with a boning knife. He saw the monster: three emaciated corpse puppets.

"You beast!" he roared, and swung his sword out.

The blade gleamed brightly, accompanied by the sound of wind.

However, when the blade struck the corpse puppet, it was as if it had struck a piece of tough, rotten wood, leaving only a white mark. One of the corpse puppets extended a claw and effortlessly caught the blade.

"Click!"

A finely crafted steel knife, as if molded from clay, was forcibly shattered into pieces.

The butcher's expression froze.

The next second, three corpse puppets pounced. The scream only lasted once before it was cut off.

The third day, at the general store near the north gate.

On the fourth day, at the dock warehouse in the east of the city.

The fifth is the underground communication point.

Zhou Yang didn't do anything himself. He simply sat in the back room of the teahouse, drinking tea. Every so often, the corpse puppets he had sent out would return, covered in blood, and sit cross-legged around him, beginning to refine and devour the essence blood they had absorbed.

A faint smell of blood lingered in the back room, but it was quickly suppressed by the chilling aura emanating from the corpse puppet.

Zhou Yang closed his eyes, feeling the changes in his body.

Warm currents converged into his dantian from all directions. It was like parched land receiving sweet rain; every cell cheered and rejoiced.

The cold, mechanical voice began to echo in his mind.

[Absorbed the life essence of a Heavenly Principle Cult member, lifespan increased by 12 years.]

[Absorbed the life essence of a Heavenly Principle Cult member, lifespan increased by 18 years.]

[Absorbed the essence and blood of the Heavenly Principle Sect Master, lifespan increased by 35 years.]

[Absorbed the life essence of the Heavenly Principle Sect's leader, lifespan increased by 67 years.]

……

The sounds came one after another, almost blending into one. Zhou Yang's face flushed slightly, and his breathing became heavy. He could clearly feel his life force surging wildly at an unprecedented speed. That feeling was more intense and exhilarating than any time he had ever added money before.

This is more than just numbers.

This is real life.

It is capital that he can squander at will.

As the final notification tone faded, Zhou Yang slowly opened his eyes. His pupils seemed to hold a deep nebula swirling within them, flashing by in an instant.

Total lifespan: 301 years.

301.

Zhou Yang stretched out his hands, examining them from all angles. His hands were still the same as before, unchanged. But he knew that everything was different now.

Before, the decades of lifespan he held were a fortune, something he could squander and gamble with. But now, those three hundred-plus years of lifespan are a mountain. A mountain that could crush everyone.

He smiled.

It wasn't the kind of triumphant, maniacal laughter, but rather a cold, visceral pleasure.

He stood up and walked to the window. Outside, darkness had fallen, and the lights of countless homes were on, creating a peaceful scene.

But Zhou Yang knew that beneath this peaceful facade, undercurrents were surging.

The festival of the Heavenly Principle Sect is approaching.

The Holy Maiden sought his cooperation, intending for him to be a weapon—a weapon to stab the celestial messenger during the festival. Afterwards, he might receive some benefits, or he might be discarded by the Heavenly Principle Sect as a pawn.

That's too slow. And too risky.

Cooperation?

No.

Zhou Yang's fingertips lightly traced the cold window frame.

He now has the greatest capital. He no longer needs to gamble or take risks. He can be the house.

The festival was not just a stage for the Tenrikyo sect.

It could also be his hunting ground.

That saintess seems extraordinary. The secrets behind her, the things she holds, are probably far more numerous than we imagine.

It would be interesting to include her in the scheme as well.

In Zhou Yang's mind, a huge net slowly unfolded. The map of Anyang County, the distribution of the Heavenly Principles Sect's power, the deployment of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, and the upcoming so-called "Immortal Envoy".

All the points were connected in his mind, forming a clear line.

A path leading to maximum benefit.

He was no longer content with just ganging up on others and taking out the small fry. He wanted to devour the whole table.

His eyes became exceptionally bright, and also exceptionally dangerous.

"Add more money," he muttered to himself, a slight smile playing on his lips. "This time, I'm going to add it to the sky."