The world exploded in a symphony of sound and fury. The very ground buckled and shattered, sending flagstones spinning through the air like deadly frisbees. In the epicenter of it all, Jiang Dao's body swelled, muscles twisting and knotting as he transformed into something straight out of a nightmare. He shot up to a monstrous three and a half meters, his skin darkening to the color of forged iron. Vicious barbs punched through the skin on his back as his hands warped into razor-sharp tiger claws. His legs, now thick as tree trunks, pulsed with raw, terrifying power.
A shimmering aura of fire and poison coiled around him like twin serpents. His mouth stretched into a grotesque grin that reached his ears, revealing a maw of fearsome fangs. He was a vision of pure horror.
"You want to kill me?" he growled, the sound a low rumble that shook the rafters. "Come on out, little cutie. I'm getting impatient. Let me get my hands on you, let me give you one gentle little squeeze. That's all it'll take. Come on…"
With that, Jiang Dao went on a rampage.
CRUNCH. BOOM. CRASH.
He stalked through the Buddhist hall, his every step cracking the foundation. A single, contemptuous sweep of his arm obliterated altars and reduced walls to kindling. He was an Asura in a dollhouse, and the temple couldn't withstand his might. The entire structure was coming down around him.
Outside, the onlookers scrambled back in terror, their faces masks of disbelief. Qi Rongfa was trembling so hard his teeth chattered.
It's happening again, he thought, paralyzed with fear. The monster is back. And he's even more terrifying than before.
Jiang Dao slammed his palm into the floor. A searing web of venom and flame shot out in every direction, carving glowing grid lines into the stone. Then, with a grunt, he flexed his power inward.
CRACK!
The floor detonated. A geyser of fire and poison erupted, turning the hall into a raging inferno. In the heart of the blaze stood Jiang Dao, his savage grin illuminated by the flames. "Hey, little cutie! Weren't you going to kill me? I'll even give you a head start. Come and get me! Hahahaha!"
His laughter, raw and manic, clawed at the night sky.
After a few minutes, the laughter died down. His eyes, burning with an intense light, scanned the smoldering wreckage. Beneath the pale moonlight, his demonic form was the definition of menace. Veins like thick, purple-black pythons writhed across a body that seemed forged from steel. He looked like a god of destruction as he casually sat on a jagged piece of rubble.
"You want to kill me? Fine. I'll be right here waiting. I don't believe you can hide forever. You hide for a day, I'll wait for a day."
BOOM.
His domain of fire and poison pulsed outward, blanketing the ruins. His power was now almost unimaginable—centuries of cultivation compressed into a single being. He was a walking volcano, and his new, integrated energy had a terrifying new trick: it didn't just burn and poison; it ground everything within it to dust, shredding matter on a molecular level.
Jiang Dao sat patiently, his power field silently erasing what was left of the temple. The heat warped the air, and the stench of venom was suffocating. Guo Dutian and the others had to retreat even further, the radiant heat scorching their skin.
"My god," Guo Dutian breathed. "It's unreal."
Suddenly, a high, piercing screech echoed right beside Jiang Dao's ear—a sound of pure agony, so close it felt like it was inside his head.
His eyes snapped open. His massive hand shot to the back of his own head. His fingers brushed against something that shouldn't have been there. A smile, cold and cruel, spread across his face.
He had found a face. A grotesque, twisted mask of pain, with eyes, a nose, and a mouth, somehow grafted onto his own skull.
"Well, hello there," Jiang Dao purred. "So this is where you were hiding. Time to come out and die."
SQUELCH!
He plunged his claws into the phantom face and yanked. A blinding, electric pain shot through his own brain, as if the face was fused directly to his nervous system. Tearing it out felt like tearing out a part of himself.
He grunted, his brow furrowed. Then, his grip tightened. With a sickening squish, his power surged, and the net of fire and poison enveloped the face, crushing it.
"Ahhh!" the face screamed, a sound that echoed in Jiang Dao's own mind. The feedback of pain only enraged him further.
"GET! OUT!" he roared.
Ignoring the agony, he unleashed his full strength. Muscles bulged on his arm as he ripped the thing free. A shrieking, scarlet-red figure was torn from his head, instantly tangled in his web of power. He slammed it into the ground with the force of a meteor.
CRACK!
The earth split open, creating a crater five meters wide. Jiang Dao pinned the flailing red thing with one hand, his eyes glowing with terrifying glee.
"Little cutie," he sneered. "You wanted to kill me? Well, here I am."
He tightened his energy field, intending to crush and seal it. But the creature was bizarrely fragile. With a soft pop, it simply disintegrated, turning to a pile of fine ash.
Jiang Dao frowned, lifting his hand.
Dead? That easily?
He pulled up his internal status panel. His cultivation techniques should have been locked, labeled as [Unmodifiable]. Killing a true supernatural entity should have unlocked them.
But the panel hadn't changed. Still [Unmodifiable].
"It wasn't the real one," he snarled, his eyes darkening—just another damn phantom.
"Son of a bitch," he muttered, rising to his full, monstrous height. "Wasted my whole night."
He let the transformation fade, his body shrinking back to its normal size as he surveyed the utter devastation. The temple was gone.
"Qi Rongfa," he called out, his voice flat.
"Gang Leader…" Qi Rongfa scurried forward, bowing low.
"Are you sure this place rebuilds itself?"
"I… I can't be certain, sir. But after Helmsman Pan tried to burn it down, it was back to normal the very next day."
"I see," Jiang Dao said. "Then we wait."
He wasn't leaving. Not until he had figured this thing out. Whatever this ghost was, it was afraid of him. It wouldn't face him directly. And that meant he had the advantage.
Guo Dutian, catching on, had a chair brought to the courtyard. Jiang Dao sat down, crossed his arms, and closed his eyes.
The moment he did, the chill returned—a cold, damp feeling, like icy water dripping onto his forehead.
His eyes snapped open.
There it was again. The skinless, blood-red ghoul was hovering right in front of him. It dripped gore onto the ground, its face split by a savage grin as it stared down at him, baring a mouthful of fangs.
"Well, well," it rasped. "If it isn't Gang Leader Jiang…"
Jiang Dao remained perfectly still in his chair, his eyes narrowed to slits.
An illusion? he thought. Has this all been in my head?
He glanced over at Guo Dutian and his men. They looked uneasy, sure, but they weren't staring in horror. They couldn't see the monster hanging in the air right in front of him.
"You want to kill me," Jiang Dao stated, his voice dangerously calm.
Before the words were even out of his mouth, the world dissolved into a blur of red claws and splintered wood. The ghoul struck, shattering the chair and driving Jiang Dao into the ground beneath it. It squeezed with all its might, its claws screeching against his skin, trying to crush him.
It was like trying to crush a mountain. Sparks flew, but his body didn't give an inch.
"Gang Leader!" Guo Dutian yelled, his men paling.
Jiang Dao's eyes were like chips of ice. So, not an illusion. Just one, only I can see.
"Get off me," he growled.
BOOM!
His fire-and-poison aura erupted, a cage of blood-red energy that instantly ensnared the ghoul, tightening around it like a vise.
"Hahaha, Gang Leader Jiang… Aaaargh!" The creature's laughter turned into a gurgling scream as the energy field constricted. Its body, seemingly solid a moment before, crumbled like dry clay. With a final, wet pop, it exploded into a cloud of burning ash.
Jiang Dao rose slowly from the crater, his expression darker than a stormy sea. This place was really starting to piss him off.
"Interesting," he whispered, a terrifying edge to his voice. "This is getting very interesting. You just keep hiding from me. Pray I don't find you."
He turned back toward the ruins.
And froze.
A cold wind whispered through the wreckage, and as it passed, the impossible happened. Before his very eyes, shattered walls reassembled themselves. Crumbled pillars rose from the dust. Where there had been a wasteland, the temple stood whole again, as if nothing had ever happened.
Inside, the faint, compassionate smile of a broken Buddha statue seemed to mock him, its cracked lips twisting into something sinister in the torchlight.
The gang members gasped.
"A ghost! It's a ghost!" one screamed.
"How did it… It's back! The temple is whole again!"
"No… It's a miracle! The Bodhisattva is protecting this place!" a few of them cried, dropping to their knees and kowtowing frantically. "Mercy, Bodhisattva, we meant no harm!"
"What are you doing?!" Guo Dutian roared at them. "Get up! There's no Bodhisattva here!"
Jiang Dao's eyes went cold. He watched them groveling on the ground and felt a profound sense of insult. This thing, whatever it was, was mocking him. It was challenging his authority.
"ROAR!"
A shockwave of pure sound tore from his throat, a physical force that hit everyone like a hammer. His men cried out, clutching their ears as blood trickled out, writhing in agony on the ground.
"What Bodhisattva?" Jiang Dao bellowed, his voice laced with ice. "There are no gods here. Get up! If you need a god, then I am your god. Now, get up!"
He kicked one of the men over for emphasis. Scrambling in terror, they all stumbled back to their feet.
His gaze fixed on the impossibly restored temple. He stalked back inside.
"Guo Dutian, get everyone off this mountain. I'm going to do this one more time. I'm going to find out what the hell is going on here."
"Yes, Gang Leader!"
Soon, he was alone again. Jiang Dao glared at the broken Buddha. "Alright, it's just us now. These parlor tricks won't kill me. If you've got the guts, show your real self and let's settle this."
Silence. The temple gave no reply.
With grim determination, he set up the ritual again: the candles, the bowl. He pricked his finger, letting a single drop of blood fall.
"You grant wishes, right?" he muttered, closing his eyes. "Here's my wish: get your ass out here and fight me for real."
He waited.
Just like before, the moment his eyes were shut, a chilling presence washed over him. But this time, it was accompanied by the faint sound of weeping—a heartbreaking, sorrowful cry. He felt an intense gaze from directly above him, and the coppery smell of blood filled the air as something began to drip down.
He opened his eyes and looked up. Nothing. Just the dilapidated ceiling. A glance around the hall confirmed it. He was alone. It was as if the sounds and smells were all a figment of his imagination.
He closed his eyes again. The crying and the cold returned instantly.
That was it. He was done playing games.
BOOM!
He exploded into his demonic form, wreathed in toxic fire. The energy field expanded, but this time it didn't just fill the hall—it wrapped around the entire building, sinking into the foundation like massive claws.
With a primal roar, he heaved upwards. The ground groaned and split as he uprooted the entire temple.
"You want to hide?" he snarled, a terrifying grin on his face as he hoisted the massive structure onto his back. "Fine. I'll just take you home with me. We'll see how long you can hide when I pick you apart piece by piece. Hehehe…"
He took a step, then another, carrying the entire building down the mountain.
But then he stopped. He felt a sudden, sharp pulse of yin energy from the ground he'd just left.
He turned slowly. There, in the deep pit where the temple had stood, lay a bronze mirror, about the size of a man's head. It was ancient, and a cold, dark energy radiated from it. For a split second, as he looked, he saw a face reflected in its surface—a pale, middle-aged man with blood-red lips and eyes wide with shock and venom.
Then it was gone.
Jiang Dao walked back to the pit, his steps heavy. The face was gone, but he knew what he had seen. He tossed the temple aside like a toy and gestured with his hand. Wrapped in his energy, the bronze mirror flew into his grasp.
"So it was you," he growled, staring into its murky surface. He could feel the dense, cold power thrumming within it.
CRACK!
He tightened his grip, and the metal twisted and buckled. A piercing shriek erupted from the mirror as it began to smoke and hiss. He glanced at the discarded temple, and with another pulse of his power, crushed it into a cloud of dust.
He stood in the silence of the night, closing his eyes, just listening.
The wind howled. Nothing else. The strange, oppressive feeling was gone.
He opened his eyes and stared at the mangled mirror in his hand.
It really was you?
He checked his panel one last time.
[Unmodifiable].
His heart sank.
Damn it, he thought, a cold dread mixing with his frustration. What the hell is going on? If the mirror wasn't the source... what was?