Chapter 22: Mutation

In just a few blinks of an eye, Chen Shanqi underwent a transformation so profound it defied comprehension.

A monster!

A true monster now stood before them—Chen Shanqi’s original head had vanished, replaced by the imposing visage of a bull. Only the faintest trace of his once-familiar features remained beneath the beastly countenance. He had become a creature half-man, half-beast.

His body, once lean and barely six feet tall, now towered over eight feet, broad and powerfully built like a full-grown brown bear. Black hair bristled across his body, giving him the appearance of a wild bull forced upright.

With each breath, Chen Shanqi exhaled gusts of white air, each stream shooting from his mouth like an arrow. It seemed this transformation had exacted a heavy toll.

“Young man, you’ve done well to force my final hand. Now that you’ve seen my true form, I can’t let you leave here alive.”

Chen Shanqi’s bull mouth twisted, his voice emerging guttural and thick, laced with unmistakable malice.

Yao Qian’s expression grew grim. No matter how hard he tried, he could not fathom how fate had played such a cruel joke on him.

“A demon! Who would have thought that the mastermind behind the human trafficking ring, the underworld’s overlord of a whole city, was never human at all?”

And if there was Chen Shanqi, surely other demons lurked among mankind as well.

The thought sent a chill racing down Yao Qian’s spine and raised goosebumps all over his skin. But he had no time for fear; now was not the moment for such thoughts. He lifted his gaze to confront the monster—this demon—and gripped Blood Slaughter tighter in his hand, as if only by holding the blade could he steady his resolve.

At that moment, Chen Shanqi stamped his foot. The stone tiles beneath him shattered, fragments flying in all directions as dust exploded into the air. He launched himself forward like a cannonball, trailing a swirl of dust behind him like a yellow dragon, exuding a dominance that was nothing short of terrifying.

Heart-Shattering Palm—Buddha’s Reverence.

His aura shifted abruptly. He pressed his palms together, his face suddenly serene, transformed into the likeness of a devout monk paying homage before a Buddha’s statue—so pious, so composed, that any observer might find themselves drawn in, overlooking even his monstrous features. Even Yao Qian faltered for a moment, his mind swept up in the unnatural calm.

He bit his tongue hard, jolting himself back to reality.

Chen Shanqi was suddenly before him, palms parting and thrusting toward his chest.

A surge of power burst forth, whipping Yao Qian’s clothes and stinging his face as if struck by a flurry of knives. After the transformation, Chen Shanqi’s palm strength had more than doubled. If that blow landed, Yao Qian’s organs would be pulverized, his death unspeakably grim.

In that split second, Yao Qian had no chance to dodge. All he could do was raise Blood Slaughter in front of his chest.

Bang!

The palm collided with the blade, and Yao Qian felt as if struck by a warhammer, hurled backward to crash into the ground, shattering the stone tiles beneath him and sending cracks spidering out like a web.

Blood spurted uncontrollably from his mouth. His internal organs blazed with agony, the pain so intense it made him hiss through clenched teeth.

“Foolish! Die!”

Seeing Yao Qian gravely injured, Chen Shanqi laughed heartily, his massive form lunging forward as he reached out a clawed hand for Yao Qian’s head—talons like those of an eagle, a crane’s beak, a tiger’s paw.

His swipe ripped through the air with a thunderous crack, as if rending the very atmosphere.

In that moment of life and death, Yao Qian cast aside all restraint. He stabbed Blood Slaughter into the ground and pushed off with both feet, springing away like a serpent gliding through grass.

He slipped past just as Chen Shanqi’s talons crashed down.

Crack!

Stone shattered beneath the demon’s claws, five deep furrows gouged into the earth like tofu, dust billowing in their wake.

Missing his target, Chen Shanqi let out a piercing howl, his massive body surging forward, black horns aiming straight for Yao Qian’s chest.

Bull Demon’s Horn!

Yao Qian twisted aside, rolling desperately to avoid the attack.

The dark horns struck the ground with a thunderous boom, gouging two deep holes in the stone.

Though Yao Qian dodged, he coughed twice, blood trickling from his lips like a winding snake. He had no time to wipe it away; Blood Slaughter was already thrusting forward like a venomous viper, aiming for the demon’s back.

Rip!

His already tattered clothes were shredded by the slash, fluttering away like butterflies to the ground.

But Yao Qian’s expression darkened. Since becoming a demon, Chen Shanqi’s strength, endurance, and even his defense had all multiplied. The strike, though not his strongest, felt as if it had hit the hide of an ox, leaving only a shallow cut.

This won’t do. If this continues, I’ll be beaten to death by this demon. I must find his weakness.

Even as the thought flashed through his mind, Chen Shanqi twisted his bull-headed form, drawing back his legs and swinging his arm around to strike.

Heart-Shattering Palm—Mountain Push!

He inhaled sharply, his chest and abdomen swelling like a giant toad, then exhaled explosively, white vapor jetting from his mouth with a sound like a steam whistle.

At the same time, he thrust his palms forward with the force of a collapsing mountain.

Yao Qian had no time for anything else. He stabbed forward, blade and palm colliding. Blood Slaughter bent under the pressure, groaning as if about to break.

Yao Qian’s face changed; he used the force to leap back, feeling as if his arm were being crushed by a boulder, bones creaking ominously.

He was driven back a dozen steps before he could steady himself, his face pale and ashen.

And then, Chen Shanqi attacked again.

Heart-Shattering Palm—Mountain Cleaver.

This strike was entirely different—his palm became a blade, cleaving straight for Yao Qian’s neck with the force to split a mountain, to bisect him in one blow.

“Young man, I’m surprised you’ve held out this long. But it’s over. Surrender, and perhaps I’ll leave your corpse intact.”

His bull face twisted with malice, venomous words spilling from his lips as he prepared to finish Yao Qian off.

But Yao Qian was not one to yield so easily. He raised his blade and took a step, ready to meet force with force—when suddenly, his foot slipped and his body lurched sideways, nearly falling.

In this moment between life and death, such a mishap was fatal. His face turned deathly pale.

“Hahaha! Even heaven favors me—you’re dead!”

The Bull Demon Chen Shanqi roared with laughter, his savage face alight with cruelty, already picturing Yao Qian’s blood spraying and his head rolling across the floor.

In a single instant, Yao Qian had fallen into the jaws of certain death.