Chapter Eighty-Two: I’m Starting to Get Angry

Underground, in a vast space as expansive as a sports field.

The pitch-black dome overhead was so immense that even the incandescent lights failed to reveal its full outline, as if a mass of dark clouds was pressing down, creating a stifling sense of oppression that weighed heavily on anyone who dared look up.

Within this suffocating atmosphere, a group of cultivators, each exuding a dangerous aura and differing in size and build, waited in absolute silence.

Suddenly, one among them shuddered violently.

“He’s coming!”

“How did he so effortlessly discover my puppet…”

“Golden Lion, are you certain he’ll come down?” Stephen Chen paced with lingering dread; his fear of Lan Yi had become a glaring vulnerability. Merely catching sight of the Old Demon Lan, the primal instinct for survival would scream a warning, compelling him to flee from this embodiment of terror!

“He will come down,” the man covered in golden light, robust and as imposing as a blazing flame, stood at the center, his eyes filled with absolute conviction. “Lan Yi, though of humble origin, is proud and arrogant to the extreme by nature. And besides, all his hated enemies are down here.”

There is a saying in the culture of the Oceanic Civilization: A flock of sheep led by a lion can defeat a pride of lions led by a sheep.

Just by standing there, the Golden Lion seemed to uphold the entire underground vault on his own. Clearly, he was the leader of this assassination attempt, and possessed the strength to suppress everyone present. Now, he would lead them to slay the one destined to become the world’s annihilator.

“For the future.”

“I will fight to the death without retreat.”

“If anyone wishes to leave, do so now before Lan Yi comes close. If you stay, then from this moment on, battle to the death with me!”

No one withdrew.

Most among them were reborn souls, with a minority having risen to power in this era either by their own efforts or through guidance. They were all psychic cultivators capable of changing the fate of destruction. Whatever their reasons, there was no room for hesitation at this moment.

Lan Yi was about to face a force determined to rewrite a dire fate.

And he had no allies.

Ji Ning and Zhang Shouzheng had originally intended to accompany Lan Yi, but a single sentence from him changed their minds.

“We don’t have deeply binding interests yet. If you follow me down, you’ll only distract me.”

Such is the reality of psychic cultivators in the human world.

Without the foundation of trust necessary for a true united front, it is better not to force an alliance. Doing so may not only be unhelpful but could also bring unnecessary trouble, especially in battles within the artificial divine realm—this principle is doubly true when past grievances exist.

And between Lan Yi and them, there was far more than just past grievances.

There was an unending blood feud between them!

Staying above was the most rational choice.

Moreover…

“We have a traitor among us.” Ji Ning’s bureaucratic smile vanished.

The coordinates of their camp, the precise raid by Oceanic Civilization cultivators—everything had happened after that phone call. The only ones aware were the reborn souls of their faction. If no one had betrayed them, could it be that the world—a vast, chaotic system—had produced someone capable of foreseeing the future after the first artificial divine realm trial?

“I will find him,” Zhang Shouzheng said cold as ice. “You and I will patrol the perimeter next. I suspect they may launch an airstrike on this location.”

“...They’ve become just as ruthless as the Old Demon Lan.”

“Everyone is Lan Yi now,” Zhang Shouzheng intuited.

……

……

Lan Yi was quite curious about what kind of formation these attackers had prepared for him.

“In martial arts, the greatest numbers are in the path of force; in sorcery, the greatest are in the path of fate.”

“Ancient Era combat weapons?”

“Expendables?”

“The time-space sorcery of this stage cannot transmit high-yield nuclear weapons; even if they could, such weapons would have little effect on me underground. They must know what kinds of sorcery and martial arts I excel in.”

But Lan Yi’s curiosity was soon answered.

Within just a few minutes of walking through the underground corridor, he sensed something strange in the colorless, odorless air. From every part of his body, his Canghua sent out invasion warnings, and the orderly flow of his psychic energy automatically triggered defensive mechanisms.

A neurogenic aggregation virus.

A virus capable of resurrecting corpses.

The reanimated bodies, commonly known as zombies, would actively absorb heavy metals at the molecular level, using the protein chains to nest and combine, devouring and converting psychic energy and primordial force, thus gaining superhuman strength. In the early stages, they were even fiercer than psychic cultivators. They had destroyed many small and weak nations and were one of the great plagues of the chaotic era.

To kill Lan Yi, they would stop at nothing.

“I’m getting a little angry,” Lan Yi muttered, recalling unpleasant memories as he raised his hand and unleashed a bolt of lightning.

The surveillance camera around the corner was instantly destroyed.

Without delay, he opened a portal to his sorcery space and retrieved the Strengthening Fluid.

Within it, a peculiar triple-helix substance churned endlessly.

With a thought, Lan Yi activated his deep blue psychic energy at the device’s base, and a gauzy membrane unfurled from the triple helix, covering his body.

Immunity Veil.

It consumed psychic energy and a bit of biological matter, allowing free movement in nearly any viral or cursed environment without harm. A single activation would imprint resistance in one’s psychic energy or primordial force.

Clearly, the attackers hadn’t expected to kill the Old Demon Lan with a mere virus.

The biochemical defenses of this underground sector had yet to be activated, and armed guards were still stationed here, making them the perfect cannon fodder.

“Ugh… roar!”

“Cough, cough!”

“Aaah!”

Lan Yi had barely taken a few steps when the familiar sounds of pre-zombification echoed from the end of the corridor. The crisp, rhythmic footsteps would be a magnet for mutated zombies, who could complete their transformation in as little as ten seconds or a minute.

In an instant, a dozen figures—like champion sprinters—came hurtling forth, howling as they ignored bodily damage, exhaustion, even leaping off walls to pounce, jaws dripping with saliva and fresh blood, lunging at Lan Yi as he advanced.

And just as instantly, these zombies—having completed their initial mutation, and with at least two displaying special powers from their life clusters or primordial force—collapsed lifelessly to the ground, twenty meters from Lan Yi.

Strengthening Fluid was a veritable scourge for eradicating zombies and other plague creatures in the early stages.

Psychic energy worked on them like an insecticide.

Unfortunately, it could only kill; once zombification was complete, there was no way to reverse or detoxify it.

Then, a rather awkward situation occurred.

Hiding among the zombie horde, disguised almost perfectly, a certain cultivator now stood rooted in place, deeply embarrassed. Even if he pretended to be dead, there was no deceiving this master of electromagnetism among psychic cultivators.

“Jester, what meaningless tricks are you up to now?” Lan Yi raised his hand and struck him with a bolt of lightning.

Divine Peak Sorcery—Palm Thunder!

A fierce, blinding flash of lightning instantly engulfed the corridor!