Fantasy: I'm in a discarded alchemy room, but I can turn trash into treasure!

"He went up..."

"A mere Qi Refining Level 1 servant challenging a Qi Refining Level 6 worker?"

"Was this person's brain damaged by erysipelas?"

The moment Qin Mo stepped onto the fifth life-or-death arena, the surrounding noise abruptly stopped, then exploded again like a boiling pot.

On the high platform, Yan Yuan chuckled as he held up his teacup and spread his palms out to the two stewards.

"Give me the money, twenty mid-grade spirit stones, not a penny less."

Deacon Feng's face twitched: "Brother Yan, how can you be so sure he'll dare to go on stage?"

"yes."

Deacon Zhou also stared at Yan Yuan, his face full of resentment.

"Didn't you notice?"

Yan Yuan skimmed the foam off the teacup with the lid, not even lifting his eyelids. "From beginning to end, this kid looked at Qian Dalong like he was looking at a dead man. Wouldn't you be scared if you were in his shoes?"

Deacon Feng and Deacon Zhou exchanged a glance and remained silent.

Twenty mid-grade spirit stones.

That's almost three months' salary for the two of them.

Yan Yuan was incredibly pleased; with a flick of his wrist, he smoothly slipped the spirit stone pouch into his sleeve.

On the stage.

Qian Dalong hadn't expected Qin Mo to actually dare to come.

But after a moment of stunned silence, his grin widened even further.

Three bottles of superior-grade Spirit Gathering Pills.

Manager Ma personally promised that if Qin Mo was killed, the money would be his.

"well."

Qian Dalong kicked Han Dazhuang in the ribs, sending him flying off the edge of the platform.

Han Dazhuang crashed onto the stone slab below the stage, spitting out a mouthful of blood and foam, and screamed hoarsely, "Qin Mo... run... they've set a trap for you..."

Qin Mo stood on the stage, his expression unchanged.

Han Dazhuang is a righteous man; even after being beaten up like this, he still worries about him.

High in the sky, Shangguan Yue was watching the inner sect competition on the mountaintop when she caught a glimpse of the unusual activity halfway up the mountain and turned her gaze over.

A mere Qi Refining Level 1 kid didn't even flinch when facing an opponent at Qi Refining Level 6.

Who gave him that confidence?

"Qin Mo, you really are the worst of the worst, you can't even roll properly."

Qian Dalong drew a short knife from his waist, the blade shrouded in black mist. "Kneel down and kowtow three times, call me 'Grandpa,' and I'll let you die a quick death."

"Go ahead and do it."

Qin Mo's tone was as calm as if he were talking about the weather, "Otherwise, there would be no chance."

"What?"

Qian Dalong's face stiffened.

The servants and disciples watching the spectacle below the stage all thought Qin Mo was just putting on a show of verbal heroism.

What's the difference between a Qi Refining Level 1 expert saying this to a Qi Refining Level 6 expert and giving their last words?

Ma Kun stood at the back of the crowd, a slight smile playing on his lips.

Idiot, that's right.

Once you're on stage, your life is no longer your own.

"court death!"

Qian Dalong roared and slashed down with his short sword, which was wrapped in black energy, aiming straight for Qin Mo's face.

This strike was both swift and ruthless.

Everyone thought Qin Mo's head was about to be split in two.

"Snapped!"

A sharp crack rang in everyone's ears.

Before Qian Dalong's knife could even touch Qin Mo's clothes, he was already sent flying.

a slap.

Qin Mo didn't even have the luck, nor did he put on airs. He simply raised his hand and slapped Qian Dalong across the left cheek.

Qian Dalong slammed onto the table and rolled twice before stopping. He spat out a string of bloody, broken teeth, and the left side of his face was swollen and deformed, with the palm print deeply embedded in his flesh.

The entire room fell silent.

The fifth life-or-death platform was several tens of feet in circumference, so large that you could hear a pin drop.

"How...how is this possible..."

"A mere Qi Refining Level 1 servant slapped a Qi Refining Level 6 cultivator away?"

Am I seeing things?

The servants below rubbed their eyes, staring at the gray-robed figure standing ramrod straight on the stage as if they had seen a ghost.

On the high platform, even Yan Yuan sat up straight.

The spirit fruit in Deacon Feng's hand fell to the ground and rolled a few times, completely unaware of it.

"This kid..." Deacon Zhou murmured.

Han Dazhuang lay on the ground below the stage, his swollen eyes barely open. He was stunned to see Qian Dalong lying on the ground, blood gushing from his mouth.

He shook his head vigorously, thinking he was hallucinating from the Netherworld Poison Mist.

"That's interesting."

High in the sky, Shangguan Yue's gaze settled.

How can you crush an opponent of a higher cultivation level?

Just who is this little guy?

Or is it that his physical body is different from that of ordinary people?

Shangguan Yue never dreamed that the gray-robed servant in front of her was the same dual cultivation master who had beaten her up with black eyes a few days ago.

"Have you found that person yet?"

Shangguan Yue asked the maid beside her in a deep voice.

The thought of her being on the verge of shattering her core and transforming into a nascent soul, only to have the other party suddenly stop, made her molars itch terribly.

It was just a hair's breadth away.

"Miss... I haven't found any clues yet..." The maid in black bowed her head.

"Even you can't find it."

Shangguan Yue tightened her grip. "Very good."

On the stage.

Qian Dalong got up from the ground.

His left cheek was swollen, with a clear handprint, and blood trickled down from the corner of his mouth.

He licked his empty gums, both surprised and angry.

"you……"

"I told you."

Qin Mo looked down at him, "I will kill you."

Qian Dalong's pupils suddenly contracted.

He's not stupid.

She slapped him away; her fighting prowess far surpassed his.

Qin Mo was pretending all along!

We can't fight, let's go!

Qian Dalong turned and ran, while simultaneously reaching into his sleeve with his right hand, where he tucked three black poison needles between his fingers and flung them behind him.

It can kill instantly upon contact with blood.

The life-saving measures given by Steward Ma.

The poisoned needle pierced the air, and Qin Mo didn't even try to dodge.

Three poisoned needles pierced his chest, bounced off with a "ding," without even breaking the skin.

For someone at the peak of the Copper Skin Realm, this thing is no different from a tickle.

Qin Mo took a step forward, his figure instantly closing in.

Qian Dalong had only taken two steps when a devastating pain shot through his back.

A fist pierced through his chest, scattering blood, flesh, and bone everywhere.

"..."

Qian Dalong looked down at the fist protruding from his chest, his eyes bulging, his mouth opening and closing, but he couldn't utter a single word.

Qin Mo flicked his wrist, sending him flying onto the table.

Qian Dalong lay in a pool of blood, his body twitched twice, and then fell still.

Dead silence.

Everyone stared wide-eyed, their jaws practically dropping to the floor.

"One punch... and it went right through..."

"A sixth-level Qi Refining cultivator was killed with a single punch?"

"This...this is still the same handyman from the alchemy room?"

Around the fifth life-or-death arena, hundreds of eyes stared intently at the gray-robed youth, trembling with fear.

Han Dazhuang struggled to sit up from the ground, his mouth full of the taste of blood, and his whole body was trembling.

It's not fear.

It was shocking.

"Qin Mo...this kid...has been hiding all along?"

On the high platform, Yan Yuan's gaze was deep, and his hand holding the teacup paused slightly.

Deacon Feng and Deacon Zhou looked at each other, neither of them able to utter a word.

At the very back of the crowd.

The initial smugness on Ma Kun's face had long since vanished.

He stared at the gray-robed figure with his back to the crowd on the life-or-death stage, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints.

Qi Refining Level 1?

Pretending to be weak to fool others.

This good-for-nothing was acting the whole time.

Qin Mo turned around, his gaze sweeping over the dense crowd below the stage and landing precisely on Ma Kun's face.

Their eyes met.

A chill ran down Ma Kun's spine, and he gritted his teeth, a ruthless glint flashing in his eyes.

"It seems I'll have to come myself."