Chapter 180: Powerful Yin Corpse

Chapter 180 The Mighty Corpse

At 1:30 PM, the sun was scorching, and the dusty, slightly potholed street radiated intense heat, distorting the air.

A dust-laden taxi pulled over by the roadside, not far from the archway of the Wuhen Hotel.

Zhang Yuanqing, carrying a backpack, put on a cap and a mask, opened the door and got out of the car.

“Young man, going back to Songhai? I can wait for you!”

The middle-aged driver stuck his head out and called out enthusiastically to his back.

Although this trip had been very profitable, he wanted to earn another trip.

Zhang Yuanqing thought for a moment, turned around and said, “I’m going back in the evening. How about you wait?”

“Then go on your way!” The driver stepped on the accelerator and left.

Zhang Yuanqing pressed down his cap brim and strode briskly across the parking space in front of the shop, pushing open the lobby door.

A strong blast of cold wind rushed in, and Zhang Yuanqing felt a surge of energy, his whole body refreshed.

Aunt Xiaoyuan stood before the counter, still in her uniform of white shirt and wine-red small suit, tall and voluptuous, with bright features.

Xiaoyuan glanced at him and said indifferently, “Follow me!”

With that, she left the counter and walked into the hotel on her high heels, click-clacking.

Why is this woman’s attitude so hot and cold? ... Zhang Yuanqing quickly followed and entered the elevator.

The two arrived at the third floor. Xiaoyuan pulled out her employee card from her pocket and swiped open room 306.

“The level 3 Allure Demon you wanted, with experience roughly between 30% and 60%, not bad strength. He was the leader of a criminal gang in Jinshan City, and had done many heinous things.” Xiaoyuan leaned against the door, arms crossed.

Zhang Yuanqing entered the room and saw a man lying quietly on the bed. He was about thirty-five years old, with a lean face, a well-proportioned and athletic body, full muscles, and no excess fat.

He examined it and confirmed that there were no obvious external injuries on the corpse, no broken bones or tendons. He nodded in satisfaction.

The physical body was the material; it had to be intact and undamaged, missing limbs would definitely not do. This body had a high degree of completeness, showing that Xiaoyuan had taken care.

“How long has he been dead?” he asked again.

The death time of the “material” was best controlled within twelve hours, because the concentration of residual spirit in the shell directly determined the quality of the “material”.

“Hunted just this morning,” she said.

Zhang Yuanqing nodded again in satisfaction, took off his backpack, and pulled out twenty thick bundles of banknotes, ten thousand per bundle.

“This is the payment.”

Xiaoyuan was taken aback, and her face suddenly turned cold. She said,

“No payment needed. Hunting the Allure Demon for you was my promise, and it itself was repaying a favor to you.”

Her eyes lingered reluctantly on the two hundred thousand yuan in cash for a few seconds, then firmly moved away.

She thinks I’m pitying her? So sensitive, a little kindness easily pricks her pride... Zhang Yuanqing said in a deep voice,

“The favor was owed to me by Kou Beiyue, and he should repay it himself. Now, what I am repaying is the favor I owe you.”

Xiaoyuan frowned and fell silent.

The hotel business was not very good, and the overall economy had been sluggish in recent years, making it hard to earn money. She had to support the expenses of her small team, and she was actually under a lot of pressure.

Master Wuhen’s team was not just her and Kou Beiyue.

Two hundred thousand yuan in cash was very important.

Zhang Yuanqing struck while the iron was hot and said angrily,

“You repaying Kou Beiyue’s favor to me makes me seem like an outsider. Am I really less important in Aunt Xiaoyuan’s heart than that fool?”

“Yes,” Xiaoyuan said.

Zhang Yuanqing: “...”

A flicker of amusement passed through Xiaoyuan’s eyes, but she quickly hid it and said with a cold face,

“But you’re right. Kou Beiyue’s favor should be repaid by himself. He is sixteen years old now, and should start shouldering some things on his own.”

Zhang Yuanqing took the opportunity to hand over the two hundred thousand in cash.

Xiaoyuan held the bundles of banknotes and was about to leave, closing the door, when she suddenly stopped and said,

“I originally wanted to help you hunt an older female, but such targets are relatively rare, and you were in such a hurry. Next time you want to refine a corpse, remember to tell me half a month in advance. As for the payment...”

She glanced down at the large bundle of cash in her arms and curled her lips: “Still two hundred thousand.”

Bang!

The door closed.

She actually joked with me? And a joke of this nature... Zhang Yuanqing was stunned.

But, Xiaoyuan, what I like are warm older women, not cold ones.

After a moment of delight, he suppressed his emotions and turned his attention to the main business.

Zhang Yuanqing took out from his backpack a small white porcelain bowl, a writing brush, cinnabar, body fluids extracted from a zombie, black soil from a desolate grave that had settled yin energy... and poured them all into the small white porcelain bowl, then stirred quickly with the brush handle.

Soon, the contents in the bowl mixed into a sticky, paste-like dark brown substance.

He walked to the bed, used the Bloodthirsty Blade to cut through the clothes on the shell body, with one hand holding the bowl and the other holding the brush, he dipped it in the “ink” and began to draw spiritual talismans on the body of this Allure Demon.

After a person dies, the spirit gradually dissipates. During this process, although the spirit remains in the physical body, it is actually already separated from the body.

It is like the relationship between a cup and water—the water is in the cup, but it is not one with the cup.

Therefore, the first step in refining a corpse is to re-fuse the residual spirit in the body with the physical body.

Only then can a corpse with low intelligence be refined. A corpse without intelligence is equivalent to a motionless puppet, of little significance.

Additionally, after the spirit merges with the body, it retains some attributes, usually a certain passive skill.

The Allure Demon at the transcendent stage has only one passive skill—Frenzy!

Zhang Yuanqing concentrated his energy and focused intently. Every stroke was drawn very carefully; not only must the spiritual talisman be without errors, but also the lunar force infused in each stroke must be the same.

Uneven infusion of lunar force would cause the formation structure to become unbalanced, ruining everything.

After more than ten minutes, the spiritual talisman was completed. One after another, twisted and different incantations connected harmoniously and regularly, forming an eerie yet aesthetically rich formation.

Zhang Yuanqing clearly felt the spirit remaining inside the corpse gradually merging into the flesh and blood, returning to this long-cold shell.

“It’s done!”

Zhang Yuanqing let out a heavy breath, his face full of joy.

Although spiritual talismans were the innate skill of Nightwalkers, mastering them was only the foundation. Whether one could succeed in one go depended on proficiency.

In this regard, the gap between a novice and a veteran was huge.

Zhang Yuanqing, refining a corpse for the first time, took a deep breath and again took out two glass test tubes from his backpack, containing purple and red liquids respectively.

The purple liquid was the blood of a powerful yin creature, produced in the Nightwalker’s exclusive spirit realm.

The red liquid was the sap of a plant called “Blood Hand Flower”, containing powerful vitality.

The former was used to nourish the corpse, endowing it with slaughter aura and yin aura. The latter was to revive the cold corpse, making the joints no longer stiff and restoring flexibility to the muscles.

To put it more simply, it was the oil that would coax the rusted gears back into motion.

Finally, Zhang Yuanqing brought forth a piece of citrine, as clear and amber-hued as a droplet of sun. Of all the components, this was the most exorbitant, commanding a staggering price of two million.

It was a rare treasure harvested from the exclusive spirit realm of the Earth Monsters, saturated with a potent earth-attribute spiritual energy, yet inherently accommodating, capable of melding flawlessly with almost any substance.

The element he had chosen for his corpse-puppet was Earth—a decision carved into his mind long ago, forged through arduous deliberation.

The Demons of Seduction were born for the fray, their close-quarters combat prowess ranking near the very apex among all professions, yet an unremarkable capacity for self-healing and a mediocre defense remained their fatal flaws.

Poised between the choice of self-healing and defensive resilience, Zhang Yuanqing had opted for the latter.

For a corpse-puppet knew neither exhaustion nor pain, rendering the gift of self-regeneration somewhat redundant; defense, however, was entirely different, as a puppet, an instrument of war, was bound to suffer wear and tear.

Particularly when pitted against a truly formidable adversary, it risked being stripped of its flesh and having its bones unraveled.

Should that transpire, the puppet would be reduced to nothing but scrap.

Zhang Yuanqing poured the violet and crimson fluids into a small bowl, blending them with the viscous liquid, and stirred the mixture with hurried strokes.

Dipping his writing brush into the thinned solution, he began to trace the lines of the array upon the floor of the room; fortunately, the hotel room was floored with wooden planks and tiles, for had it been draped in red carpeting, he would have been left utterly stranded.

Inscribing an array was a far more labyrinthine and treacherous endeavor than painting upon a corpse, and to ensure no misstep was made, Zhang Yuanqing drew with painstaking slowness.

After all, he possessed only a single set of materials.

Half an hour later, he wiped a sheen of cold sweat from his brow, overcome by a sudden wave of exhaustion akin to the childhood triumph of finally completing a massive block tower after a day of ceaseless toil.

Gathering the corpse of the Demon of Seduction into his arms, Zhang Yuanqing settled it gently into the dead center of the array, before placing the citrine upon the chest of the dead form.

"Success or failure hinges on this single stroke!"

He retreated to the periphery of the formation, pressing his palm lightly against one of its corners, and began to channel a ceaseless torrent of Lunar Power into the script.

In an instant, a sinister wind howled through the room, the temperature plummeting sharply as the dried incantations flared with faint, shimmering glimmers of violet, black, and crimson.

The dark and violet radiances seeped into the corpse, condensing into a dense shroud of malevolent yin energy, while the crimson light nourished the flesh, restoring a semblance of vitality to the deathly pale skin... At this sight, Zhang Yuanqing immediately intensified the flow of his Lunar Power.

The three hues of black, violet, and red surged violently, rushing toward the ceiling in a magnificent, breathtaking display of color.

The citrine upon the corpse's chest melted away like a block of ice under a summer sun, absorbed entirely by the dead vessel.

The corpse-puppet lying at the center of the array suddenly snapped its eyes open, its gaze dripping with a sinister, tyrannical malice, as a wave of peerlessly violent power rippled outward from its frame, manifesting as a spectral gale that whipped the curtains and bedsheets into a frenzy.

"It is done!"

Zhang Yuanqing was swept with an overwhelming surge of joy.

No, there remained one final step... Striding into the heart of the array, he bit his fingertip and traced a circular formation upon the forehead of the puppet.

The moment the circular seal took shape, it dissolved into the corpse's flesh, while within the sea of Zhang Yuanqing's own consciousness, an identical circular brand manifested.

This was the mark of the master, the very conduit through which the corpse-puppet would be governed.

This brand served a dual purpose: first, it allowed him to issue direct decrees to the puppet, dispatching it to fulfill certain objectives, though these were restricted to simple and rudimentary tasks, such as the slaughter of an enemy.

Commands requiring a degree of technical nuance were far beyond the comprehension of the low-intelligence puppet, which could never understand or execute a task like painting a picture.

Second, using the brand as a medium, he could completely hijack the puppet's body, steering it just as he would control a spiritual servant; in this state, the puppet could execute all manner of delicate, intricate maneuvers.

"Let us see what abilities this fellow has retained, and what attributes the citrine has bestowed upon it..."

Instantly, Zhang Yuanqing focused his mind, severing a strand of his consciousness to merge it into the brand within his sea of thought.

In the subsequent breath, he felt as though he had been cleaved in two; he could sense two distinct versions of himself, possessing two separate physical forms, and through the eyes of the corpse-puppet, he looked back to see himself standing there, clad in cropped, narrow-hemmed trousers and a white T-shirt.

This sensation was not entirely foreign to him; it was precisely what he experienced whenever he possessed the Little Rascal.

"Holy hell, this puppet's physical constitution is even stronger than my original body..."

Upon unraveling the puppet's attributes, Zhang Yuanqing was struck with profound astonishment.

First was the physical vessel; as a Level 3 Demon of Seduction, its physical capabilities eclipsed those of his current true form, and from within this stolen flesh, Zhang Yuanqing could feel a restless, throbbing instinct for violence.

It was as though the creature had been born solely for the purpose of slaughter; a thirst for battle and a supreme confidence that his original body simply did not possess.

"It feels like being forcefully injected with a natural talent for combat... Is this the default state of a Demon of Seduction..."

Next were the attributes; the passive trait of descending into a bloody frenzy had been preserved, which happened to be the only passive skill inherent to the Demon of Seduction profession.

Seduction and Marking, being active skills, had already returned to the spirit realm upon death.

Yet what truly ignited Zhang Yuanqing's delight were the three distinct attributes granted by the citrine: first, in the heat of battle, the puppet could actively draw upon the power of the earth to replenish its endurance, sparing its master from constantly nourishing it with Lunar Power.

It was worth noting that even a corpse-puppet had its limits and was no perpetual motion machine; once the Lunar Power within its frame was fully depleted, it required a fresh infusion from its master.

Second, the resilience of its flesh and skin had been vastly heightened.

Though it had not yet attained the legendary state of copper skin and iron bones, ordinary blades and bullets would find it exceedingly difficult to leave a scratch upon it.

Third, the invocation of Stone Armor.

This attribute was an active skill, enabling the puppet to transmute the earth-attribute spiritual energy stored within its body into a suit of impenetrable stone armor lasting for three minutes; the defensive capabilities of this armor were immense, capable of withstanding even a profession tool of an equal-level Demon of Seduction specialized in piercing armor for a full minute.

"Without utilizing tools, it feels as though this puppet is a fraction stronger than my true self. No wonder they say a Night Walker with a corpse-puppet and a solitary Night Walker are two entirely different creatures. No wonder that flock of Scholars ranked me down at eleventh place..."

A sudden revelation washed over Zhang Yuanqing.

He could not help but wonder further: that Zhao Chenghuang, who occupied the coveted first rank, possessed a Level 4 corpse-puppet; just how terrifying must his combat capacity be?

Even if a puppet lost the vast majority of its skills upon entering the Saint stage, so long as it retained but one, it could rely on the sheer physical majesty of a Saint to utterly crush almost any extraordinary being.

And that was without factoring in Zhao Chenghuang's own personal combat prowess.

"I was overly confident before, but fortunately, I now possess a puppet of my own, and the chasm between us has narrowed... The tournament begins in two days, and when the time comes, I shall make a spectacular entrance with my puppet..." Filled with boundless confidence, he led the creature out of the room.

Taking the elevator back down to the first floor, Xiao Yuan, standing behind the counter, caught the sound of his approach and cast her gaze sideways.

Her eyes lingered for a brief moment upon the puppet, which radiated a menacing aura of death, before she remarked indifferently:

"You would do well to procure a pair of sunglasses and a face mask for him. Surely you have no desire to be stopped by the town constables demanding an identification card while strolling down the street."

Zhang Yuanqing turned his head to look at the puppet, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"You make an excellent point!

"Come to think of it, I have yet to bestow a name upon him. Auntie Xiao Yuan, do you have any recommendations?"

Xiao Yuan offered a mocking retort: "Just call him Dead Man Number One. It quite suits your aesthetic tastes."

Zhang Yuanqing's eyes illuminated. "A splendid name! It is settled then."

His spiritual servant was dubbed Little Rascal, and his corpse-puppet was now Dead Man Number One; truly, a luminous future awaited them all.

Xiao Yuan remained utterly speechless.

"Auntie Xiao Yuan, the tournament commences the day after tomorrow. Just watch me seize the crown... Well, placing in the top three is practically guaranteed." Zhang Yuanqing left himself a sliver of room for error.

Xiao Yuan cast a brief glance over him. "You will be fortunate if you manage to break into the top five."

"Care to make a wager?" Zhang Yuanqing countered, his pride stung.

"What are the stakes?" Xiao Yuan accepted the challenge.

If this were the Little Emperor, the stakes would invariably involve a tryst or a kiss, but I am a man of upstanding virtue... Zhang Yuanqing pondered for a moment before declaring, "The loser must share a bed with the winner!"

The next instant, he and his corpse-puppet were unceremoniously hurled out of the hotel by Xiao Yuan.

"It was merely a jest, honestly..."

Zhang Yuanqing slunk away in disgrace.

…

Two days later, in the early morning.

After breakfast and washing up, Zhang Yuanqing returned to his room and locked the door from inside.

He summoned Corpse Number One from the wardrobe, put on his waist pack, and loaded the Maowang speaker.

He silently waited for nine o'clock to arrive.

According to the official announcement, the way to enter the arena tournament was the same as entering a dungeon: one simply had to wait at home for the Spirit Realm prompt.

The opening ceremony was at nine in the morning.

“Wait...”

Zhang Yuanqing suddenly remembered something: if that Yinji was truly the Demon Lord’s lover, she would definitely have seen the Maowang speaker.

After all, this item couldn’t be stored in his inventory.

If she discovered I possessed the Maowang speaker, although it might not lead her to conclude I was the Demon Lord’s successor, she would certainly be suspicious and ask questions.

It would only stir up trouble.

Thinking this, he quickly unfastened the waist pack.

“You might as well continue lying in the drawer,” he thought regretfully. “Ah, what a loss of such a powerful auxiliary item...”

Time passed second by second, until at last it reached nine o'clock.

…