The Black Tiger Gang members trailing the third carriage had already turned pale, their faces tense with unease.

A thick stench of blood wafted from inside the carriage, and the sickening sound of flesh being chewed filled the air.

The hair on the back of their necks stood up. If their leader and deputy weren’t present, they would’ve bolted without hesitation.

Their minds drifted back to the yamen’s latest announcement—Chen Zhou was a man-eating demon.

But that didn’t add up. Chen Zhou wasn’t here.

Yet the chewing sounds continued from inside the carriage.

The gang members weren’t fools. They all came to the same terrifying realization. No one dared to say it out loud. As long as the creatures inside stayed put, they could pretend they didn’t know. Less trouble meant a longer life.

Inside the carriage, the female cat demon gnawed feverishly on a severed arm, while the male cat demon tore into a warm, quivering liver.

Innards were the most nutritious and prized among their kind—reserved only for the leading male.

Gone were the courteous and well-mannered masks they had worn in front of Zhao Shuanghe. Now, in their true forms, they feasted without restraint.

Suddenly, both demons froze. Their nostrils flared as they sniffed the air.

Beneath the overwhelming scent of blood, a new scent cut through.

Chen Zhou.

And he was coming fast.

The two demons snapped their heads up and shrieked in unison:

"Chen Zhou is here!"

Their piercing cries sent the horses reeling, nearly toppling the carriages.

Inside the lead carriage, Li Qing and Zhao Zhiming jerked their heads toward the commotion, their expressions shifting from confusion to pure terror.

A golden light streaked through the sky, descending rapidly.

A young man in a gray robe, arcs of electricity crackling across his body like coiled serpents. His golden eyes locked onto Li Qing with an icy focus.

Not hiding. Not running.

He was attacking them.

"Why the hell is he glowing?!"

That wasn’t in the intelligence reports!

Li Qing didn’t have time to think. His instincts screamed of danger.

A suffocating pressure bore down on him, his survival instincts kicking in. His body moved before his mind caught up.

"Tiger Fiend, manifest!"

A massive, spectral tiger with wings burst into existence behind him, its feral aura shaking the ground.

With a deafening roar, the beast lunged at Chen Zhou, fangs bared.

Li Qing twisted his body, channeling the fiend’s essence into his arm. His muscles swelled as his fist turned into an iron-hard weapon, ready to clash with Chen Zhou’s electric charge.

BOOM!

The two forces collided, unleashing a shockwave that obliterated the nearest carriage and sent debris flying in all directions.

"Boss, I’m coming!"

Zhao Zhiming, quick to react, leaped from his carriage, sprinting toward the chaos.

He had seen this countless times before.

Li Qing’s Tiger Fiend Killing Technique was legendary.

With his flying tiger manifestation, he could crush enemies with sheer overwhelming force.

No one had ever survived once Li Qing fully unleashed his power.

This battle would be no different.

Zhao Zhiming was sure of it—

Until the dust settled.

The battlefield came into view.

And his confidence shattered.

A single figure stood amidst the wreckage.

Chen Zhou.

Golden arcs still danced around his body, his expression calm and unbothered.

And in his hand—

A corpse.

Or at least, what used to be a person.

Now, it was nothing more than a charred husk, burned black beyond recognition. Clothes reduced to scraps. Features erased by searing heat.

A suffocating, acrid stench filled the air.

Zhao Zhiming’s legs locked in place, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing.

Where was Li Qing?

The answer loomed before him, held casually in Chen Zhou’s grip.

That charred corpse was Li Qing.

Just moments ago, he had been unleashing his strongest technique.

Now, he was nothing but smoldering remains.

Too fast.

Too sudden.

Too horrifying.

Zhao Zhiming’s entire body trembled.

What kind of monster was this?!

"Tiger?" Chen Zhou’s voice was light, almost playful. "A tiger can’t handle 100,000 volts."

Zhao Zhiming snapped out of his daze. There was no time to process, no time to think.

Survival came first.

"Black Tiger Gang, listen up!" he bellowed. "Chen Zhou is here! Kill—"

He didn’t even finish.

Because he had already turned and bolted.

Fighting was suicide.

The moment his leader—his god-like boss—was reduced to ashes, Zhao Zhiming knew.

This wasn’t a battle.

This was a massacre.

And he wasn’t the only one who realized it.

The gang members, the yamen officers, every single one of them—ran.

They had numbers, they had weapons, they even had crossbows that might pose a threat to Chen Zhou.

But none of that mattered.

Courage had abandoned them.

They fled in every direction, desperate to escape.

Chen Zhou didn’t look surprised.

He had expected this.

The Black Tiger Gang weren’t soldiers. They were thugs and bullies. They had no discipline, no loyalty, no willingness to die for their cause.

The last time he fought them at the Han Mansion, he had already seen how weak they truly were.

This time, they didn’t even need intimidation.

They routed themselves.

Chen Zhou spared them a glance, then checked his status.

His Purple Yang Electric Power Technique had strengthened his body significantly. His health bar was longer, more resilient.

Even Li Qing’s strongest punch—the full force of his Tiger Fiend Killing Technique—had only taken one-tenth of his health.

Li Qing had been strong.

But against Chen Zhou?

Not nearly strong enough.

[You have killed a peak second-realm bandit leader. +150 Good Deeds Points.]

A grin curled Chen Zhou’s lips.

Now that was a good haul.