Chapter 47: Chapter 47: The Rotting Giant

"Nose?"

Huang Zhongxiao instinctively touched his nose, not understanding the meaning. Instead, Chen Nuanyu’s cold lips twitched once more.

Although he didn’t understand the meaning,

Huang Zhongxiao knew that this young man was mocking him.

His gaze turned cold:

"Arrogant."

The young man retreated seven steps, each step seeming strange, twisting and turning, as if stepping to a rhythm, then clasped his hands in the Meridian Technique gesture.

"I beseech the Venerate, descend divine power, Passing Ghosts and Driving Spirits, urgent as the command!"

A talisman floated from his fingertips, burning to ashes.

The shadows on both sides squirmed,

and then, in Zhang Fusheng’s interested gaze, faceless shadow figures stood up one by one.

Eighteen of them.

"Subordinate Soul?" Zhang Fusheng whispered in his heart, once again seeing through this trick, similar to before, all borrowed power from the cultist.

Previously, it was borrowed spiritual power interfering with reality; this time it’s ’Subordinate Soul’ from the Divine Realm.

As for which Divine Realm, from whom?

Zhang Fusheng couldn’t discern, only knowing that it’s far away.

This is some ’High-Tier Use’ of the Divine Realm, but undoubtedly, the master of the Divine Realm is extremely powerful.

"Kill him," Huang Zhongxiao spoke lightly, his hands once again clasped behind him, standing motionless like a mountain, a posture of windswept ease.

The eighteen shadows issued silent howls, stepping on shadows, and drew near abruptly!

"Each is at the Three Refinements level..."

Zhang Fusheng frowned, flicked his hand, generating a gust of fist wind, stirring up dust, forming into a roaring tiger’s head; his bones and muscles chimed together, detonating another thunderclap!

’Boom!’

Several shadows shattered.

He moved leisurely among the shadow figures, with the Perfection Tiger Roar Fist, he could dominate among the Three Refinements, as tiger heads erupted one by one, the shadow figures burst open with them!

Thirty-nine seconds, shadows were all shattered.

’Clap! Clap! Clap!’

Huang Zhongxiao clapped with a smile:

"A fist technique close to the realm of ’intent’, no wonder you’re so confident, but after all, only at the Three Refinements..."

He moved his body, skin stretching, muscles towering and rolling under his skin, with a faint rumbling sound.

Three Refinements of Flesh.

"Six Refinements against Three Refinements, the advantage is mine..." Huang Zhongxiao stepped forward confidently, wearing a smile, approaching that scholarly young man.

’Tear!’

The scholarly young man suddenly seemed inflated by an invisible air pump, his bones creaking with a teeth-gritting sound,

muscles and skin expanding and stretching at a visible speed!

Huang Zhongxiao fell silent.

The figure swelled, obscuring the moonlight, forming a shadow covering him, the shadow gradually expanding.

The expansion stopped.

An extraordinarily burly and stout figure, three to four meters tall, like a small giant made of swollen flesh, appeared right there,

tattered cloth hanging on him, through the blue-green skin, huge branch-like veins could be seen knotted together!!

"Hoo..."

The giant exhaled lightly, greenish foul-smelling gas collided with the pale-faced Huang Zhongxiao, slowly dispersing.

Third Form and Spirit, Giant’s Observation.

Chen Nuanyu couldn’t help swallowing saliva, gazing at the young man’s severely deformed face due to swelling and pulling, and those hollow, furious eyes, devoid of any living hue,

she stepped back two steps, her heart pounding fiercely.

For a moment, Chen Nuanyu couldn’t tell who the real ’cultist’ was...

"Uh, my friend," Huang Zhongxiao tugged at the corner of his mouth, showing a smile worse than crying:

"Maybe there’s some misunderstanding between us."

Mucus dripped from Zhang Fusheng’s body, feeling the threefold, 9600-pound surging power within him, he clashed his fists, producing a ’bang’ of muffled sound.

"Misunderstanding?"

Looking down at this small cultist, Zhang Fusheng grinned, his heavy breathing like the hiss of a broken bellows, making his whole body tremble.

"I think there might not be any misunderstanding..."

He lifted his foot off the ground, leaving deep, sticky footprints.

Then, kick!

’Boom!’

With a violent blast, a tiny figure flew out like a cannonball, plowing a long trench on the ground!

Huang Zhongxiao gasped, getting up from the rubble, he was a Sixth-Refined Martial Artist, his own strength reaching 9000 jin, not really hurt,

But the problem is, this ’Little Giant’ has a fist technique close to the realm of ’intent’!

"Heh...we’ll meet again," Huang Zhongxiao tore another Invisibility Talisman, his figure suddenly blurred, disappearing out of thin air.

He held his breath, tiptoeing, intending to sneak away from this dead-end alley.

As he passed by the giant,

Huang Zhongxiao couldn’t help but glance sideways, seeing the dark, massive veins on the giant’s body, and hearing the sound of gas being squeezed inside...

What the hell is this thing??

Who’s the real cultist here!

Wait, I’m the cultist, but dude, you look like you belong to an Evil God!

He cursed inwardly, his gaze moving up, glancing at those empty, lifeless, pale eyes staring at him, preparing to slip away.

Wait a minute.

Staring at me?

The moonlight dimmed.

Huang Zhongxiao looked up in horror, seeing a palm as big as a fan, full of intense stench, crashing down!

Like a fly, he was swatted away, smashing into a wall, embedded within!

"Cough....."

Caught completely off guard, this time he was truly injured. Coughing up blood, he struggled to pull his re-emerging figure from between the walls,

Huang Zhongxiao half-kneeled on the ground, stared steadfastly at the terrifying, decaying giant, and gasped heavily:

"You, you can see me??"

"I always could." The giant smiled cheerfully, a smile spreading across his twisted, decaying face, looking eerie and horrifying.

Zhang Fusheng walked step by step towards Huang Zhongxiao, the foul-smelling wind pressing down, the Cultist ducked and rolled away to gain distance, stood straight, and shouted:

"Wait!"

Zhang Fusheng looked at him with interest:

"What is it? More strange tricks up your sleeve?"

He moved his body, a faint green foul vapor visibly evaporating from beneath his skin, twisting to form a tiger head larger than his figure, rising and falling behind him.

The Cultist swallowed, clasped his hands, performed a Meridian Technique, and then turned his hands outwards.

He held up a group photo.

It was a photo of him with three elderly men.

In the photo, two elders sat upright, while another elder stood side by side with the young man alongside.

Huang Zhongxiao pointed to the bearded old man standing next to him in the photo:

"I’m Huang Zhongxiao, my master is Huang Haotian, dare I ask who you are, my friend?"

Zhang Fusheng almost choked on his breath.

Pulling out a photo, what kind of weird move is that?

Oh, using background to suppress oneself?

Zhang Fusheng glanced at the photo, made a sound of surprise.

In the photo, Huang Zhongxiao’s master, Huang Haotian... isn’t that the Twelve-Refined Great Martial Artist in Ankang Hospital that day?

He grinned, letting out a hoarse and muffled laugh:

"Zhang Fusheng, my master, Hong Tianbao."

Huang Zhongxiao’s hand trembled:

"Hong Tianbao!!"

Perhaps it’s a shared lineage; Huang Zhongxiao is cautious and meticulous in his actions. Though he doesn’t compare to his master who remains carefree despite being hunted by the Federation over a hundred times,

he naturally falls into the category of ’protecting everyone behind him.’

Thus, he is understandably well-informed about the ’people not to be provoked’ in Jiangzhou.

A smile worse than a cry emerged on his face:

"Brother Zhang, I truly didn’t know you were a disciple of Elder Hong, it’s really..."

Huang Zhongxiao suddenly paused, as if recalling something, and froze.

Zhang Fusheng caught this keenly, grinning:

"What is it? Did you think of something? Was it because of Hong Tianbao, or because of... the name Zhang Fusheng?"

Huang Zhongxiao’s expression fluctuated wildly, looking at the giant approaching step by step, listening to the rumbling sound, he shouted loudly:

"Brother Zhang, someone in Hongji wants to kill you!"

Zhang Fusheng knocked him unconscious with a punch, then picked up Huang Zhongxiao’s body, weighing it up:

"Nonsense, did you even need to say it?"

His form gradually returned to normal.

He lowered his head, glanced at his perfect physique, and sighed:

"Where’s the promised transformation without bursting clothes? TV always lies..."

He stood naked in the alley, his muscles and bones vibrating with thunderous sound, shaking off the tattered cloth and decayed mucus.

"Go buy me a set of clothes, move quicker, otherwise it’ll be past nine by the time we get home."

Only then did Chen Nuanyu snap back to reality, silently glanced at the boy’s body, turned, and walked out of the alley.

Only then did Zhang Fusheng turn his gaze towards the unconscious Huang Zhongxiao.

There’s a lot of information that can be dug out from this guy...

How should I handle this?

After a moment of contemplation, he made a call to the Peace Hotel in Dragon Boat City.

The Peace Hotel is one of the main businesses under Hongji, managed by the senior disciple, and currently, Zhang Fusheng also holds one-third of its management rights.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by lotustale.com