Thousand-Faced Dragon

Chapter 455 The Most Powerless Advancement

When Rean woke up, he felt uneasy all over.

A sense of powerlessness and anger filled his chest, yet he didn't know where to throw a punch. This anger and resentment transcended time, yet weighed heavily on Rean's heart.

"Will our future be like this too? I've heard that the era of war during the demonic tides only gets more chaotic with each passing year."

The advancement of technology and magical civilization is often manifested in bloodshed.

It is foreseeable that this war of the demonic tide will be even more tragic than the desperate era of memory.

"What can I do? I can't do anything. Can I protect the people around me?" Rean was somewhat confident before, but not so much now.

He didn't think he was stronger than Wu Qiang, nor did he think he was luckier than Wu.

What can one person do when the whole world has turned into hell?

He wanted to kill someone.

So he set off.

The lone warrior, cloaked, walked into the deserted passage.

He understood Wu, yet he preferred not to.

It was an unsolvable questionnaire, and a pitiful person destined for self-destruction.

He was never innocent, because there were even more innocent people under his fists.

With each killing, with each breath of other life, he felt utterly powerless.

"No need for words, because communication can't solve any real problems."

When the steel fist swung at the monster, Rean felt as if he had returned to that era of war.

Can problems be solved through communication? Is mutual understanding what people need most? Ha, it's precisely because we understand each other that we must fight to the bitter end.

There's only one piece of meat. If I eat it, there won't be any for you. Or, would you be willing to cut off your own flesh to feed me?

Blood covered his fist, and without realizing it, Rean no longer cared much about the location of his punch.

A crimson magical aura covered his fists; Rean's arms could now be considered magical weapons. With the radiance of psionic energy covering them, these fists, clad in dragon-scale arm guards, had surpassed even his own sword.

Developing productivity to save the world? No way. When no one can trust anyone, and even tomorrow's food is a struggle, plunder is the only path.

Even if a "savior" or "farming king" happens to appear, they will only become fat meat in the mouths of stronger predators.

To avoid becoming someone else's prey, one must become a cruel or even brutal hunter.

Wu knows this is wrong.

They even know what the "right path" is.

But can I keep going? The more I think about it, the more painful it becomes; the further I see, the more my feet ache, yet I must keep going.
"Don't overthink; it will dull your punches. A hesitant punch will leave you vulnerable to being hunted by the weak."

With outstretched arms, he blocked the charging bull.

With a roar, Rean pulled with his left hand and struck with his elbow, his arms turning into a spinning top, sending the bull's horns he was pulling flying into the sky.

Brute force? Straight-line momentum is too simple. When Rean seizes the moment when the opponent relaxes his breathing, he easily converts the momentum into torque.

Do not hesitate, do not think, let your flesh act and kill.

If you really have to regret it, then regret it. It's better than being killed or eaten. No matter how righteous a dead person is, it's meaningless.

The monks' movements became increasingly concise and faster. It was a fast-paced rhythm, almost as if anticipated.

He moved like a ghost through the monsters, either "piercing" those who blocked his way or being just a step too slow. The monsters that died suddenly in his path often didn't realize they were dead until several seconds later.

The wound is very small, and in many cases there is no visible wound at all.

He simply "happened" to be one step ahead of his opponent, and then gently pressed on the opponent's "breathing hole." A section, a turn, a pull.

With blood still on his fingers, Rean was too lazy to turn around.

"boom!"

The surging blood energy, carrying the power of life, burst forth from the blocked area.

This is not the Achilles' heel of Fist of the North Star, nor is it the fatal flaw or dead end of some fanfiction. Life doesn't need to evolve to have a weakness.

However, life is constantly in flux; only through the circulation of qi, blood, vitality, and soul can one truly live.

When Rean's fingers touched it, they blocked that flow. The weak died instantly, while the strong also suffered from difficulty breathing and felt unwell all over.

"Do not rejoice, do not grieve."

Rean, however, was already controlled by his emotions.

That was an extreme urge to kill, an instinctive impulse to annihilate other lives. I kill you not because I hate you or like you, but simply because I possess this instinct, I have this desire. What does it have to do with you that I kill you?

"Don't fall in love, because you'll be attached to them, betrayed, fooled, and taken advantage of."

"Don't be sad, because hatred will make you lose control, and once your punches are aimed at your opponent, they will be able to defend themselves."

"Don't be afraid. Uh, from the beginning, I haven't been afraid. I've wanted to die for a long time, I've wanted to sleep forever, but why haven't I died yet, why haven't I died yet!"

Wu's emotions resonate with "Li Ensu". Wu is a complete villain; he plunders, steals, kills, cheats, gambles, and is unforgivable.

But there are no buts. He knew better than anyone that he was a bastard, an irredeemable bastard.

Falling into purgatory was just what they deserved; the only regret was that they didn't perish.

To be a devil is to relive the painful days of life.

"But good people shouldn't end up like this."

The enraged monk slammed his fist against the rock wall, sending countless fragments of rock flying like a whirlwind of arrows.

Memories resurfaced: Wu's master was dead, his senior brother was dead, and the entire village was massacred. The reason was simple: during the war, the local lord needed more military rations and forcibly collected taxes, while the warrior monks chose to help the unruly people resist the taxes.

As a result, the monastery, which consisted of only two dilapidated houses, was gone, and the monks became wanted criminals.

Those who survived were relentlessly hunted down, and the final informants were the villagers who had begged for their help!
"If this is the only fate for good people, then what's the point of being a good person?!"

The enraged monk seemed to have traveled through time, returning to that era of war and chaos.

He heard about what happened back home. In his prime, he returned there just to watch the excitement, or perhaps he secretly planned to make a move. But those bald men hanging on bamboo poles were certainly quite a sight!

So, he was out.

He only knows how to kill.

He killed the troublemakers, the traitors, the lord, and even the soldiers. Passing through the area where that village was located once again, he saw the bamboo poles and the soldiers forcibly collecting taxes. This time, however, there was no foolish monk helping them resist the taxes.

What's the point of killing them all?

Just change the people and do it again.

But I want to kill; at least it would make me feel a little better.

"Then, let's kill them."

"You all deserve to die!"

Reality and illusion overlap. In reality, monsters are torn apart, beaten, and pierced by "Li Ensu" in a frenzy, while the unlucky ones in the illusion are hunted down by the passing thug "Li Ensu".

Is Lee Eun-suk a good person? No, he's just an ordinary person who hasn't experienced that "terrible day."

If Li Ensu had encountered that despairing world and those days, he too might have fallen into the same state of emptiness, becoming nothingness.

His original name wasn't actually "Wu".

But later, he was nothing.

"Kill, kill, kill."

A frenzied warrior dances amidst monsters.

I don't know what to do. I've tried my best to listen, I've fought with everything I have.
He was laughing wildly; he was enjoying himself.

He was crying; he was in despair.

He could only throw a punch, but he didn't know where to throw it.

[Gained the fist technique: Shattering Strike (Diamond Rank).]

"Aaaaaah, die!"

Black light gathered between his fingers, and where it cut, blood and death followed.

"Snapped!"

After Rean shattered the rock wall with a single punch, he finally stopped.

Panting heavily, Rean gradually regained his senses, and behind him lay only a pile of corpses.

[Congratulations, host! You have obtained the fourth-tier Monk class.]

[The mind and soul abilities have been further integrated and activated; currently, the 'breathing pores' ability can be activated using the skin of the limbs.]

Should he be happy? Rean only felt that his mood was worse than when he came out.

(End of this chapter)