The metal door burst open with a hollow clang, echoing across the rooftop. Cold wind rushed in, carrying the endless rain with it.
Chen Yu stumbled forward as he made his rush over to what looked like a helicopter pad. He ran to its edge without thinking, boots sliding against the wet stone, only to freeze as he looked down.
Below, the city unfolded as an endless sea of lights swallowed everything.
Hundreds of meters below.
No way out.
Footsteps followed as the sound emerged from the staircase he came from. Chen Yu turned, chest heaving, and saw them emerging one by one.
Men with blank expressions and black suits, with eyes that had no fear, only obedience.
His Qi stirred weakly within him, responding to danger out of instinct rather than strength.
In that moment, standing between the sky and abyss, Chen Yu finally understood: his fate had been sealed from the start.
Then came the applause. Slow claps echoed, even through the heavy rain.
Chen Yu turned just as two figures emerged from the stairwell, walking past the suited men as though they were little more than scenery.
The man in front wore an immaculate smile. His blond hair and perfect face bright against the gray clouds above. His steps were slow and unhurried, confident as he already knew the outcome. There wasn't even killing intent on him, only the small mocking smile that pissed Chen Yu off.
Beside him walked a woman in a delicate dress. Her long pink hair flowed freely in the wind. One hand rested lightly around the man's arm, eyes bright with petty curiosity as they looked down on Chen Yu.
"Senior Brother," the man said gently. "Why do you look so surprised?"
Chen Yu clenched his fists, Qi surging painfully through his veins.
"Xu Liang. Mu Yao," he shouted. "Both of you have completely lost your minds! Delusional!"
Xu Liang sighed softly, as if disappointed.
"Delusional?" he repeated, shaking his head. "Senior Brother, you still don't understand the situation."
He loosened Mu Yao's arm and took a few steps forward, stopping just short of the helipad's inner circle. Rain slid down his coat, yet not a single drop seemed to touch him.
His gaze settled on Chen Yu, not with hatred, but with something closer to pity.
"This era is already rotten," Xu Liang continued calmly. "The old have stagnated. They linger for decades, consuming resources, clinging to positions that should have been vacated long ago."
Chen Yu's breath hitched; he tried to activate his Arts, but it sputtered uselessly.
Xu Liang spread his hands, as if presenting an unavoidable truth.
"So we decided to accelerate things."
"A purge," he said without shame. "One necessary to usher in a new generation. Stronger, not afraid of change."
"Because of that…" Chen Yu coughed, blood dripping from his lips. "You killed your father?!"
Xu Liang looked downward, placing a hand to cover his face in sadness. But Chen Yu could already tell it was hiding a wicked smile.
"It was for the greater good."
He looked up again, the mask gone.
"Be happy, Senior Brother," His smile returned, faint and confident. "You will be as well. In fact, you will be the catalyst that made it happen!"
Chen Yu laughed hoarsely.
The sound was dirty, torn from his chest, more like a cough than laughter.
"You think you can get away with this?" he snarled. "After killing your own father?"
"You think framing me will let you escape the consequences?"
Mu Yao finally spoke.
Her voice was soft, almost bored.
"Escape?" she repeated, tilting her head slightly. "Senior Brother, you still don't understand."
She took a step forward, heels clicking lightly against the wet stone. Her grip around Xu Liang's arm tightened just a little, possessive even.
"We have money," she said calmly. "We have influence. When the story is told, it won't be yours—it will be ours."
Her eyes met Chen Yu's, bright and unwavering.
"The public will believe what we allow them to believe."
"After all…" Her lips curved faintly, "Truth is a luxury for those without power."
"Ha…" Chen Yu laughed softly this time.
"I must've been too close to my own cultivation," he said slowly. "So focused on the Snake… that I failed to notice the real ones standing beside me."
"So that's what you've been reduced to," Xu Liang said, shaking his head. "Mad words from a man at the end of his road."
He turned away from Chen Yu, already losing interest.
"Enough," he said calmly. "End it."
The suited men moved as one.
Killing intent surged across the rooftop, pressing down on Chen Yu like a collapsing sky. The rain seemed to freeze midair as Qi glowed from every direction.
Mu Yao didn't look back.
"Make it quick," she added idly. "We still have things to prepare."
Chen Yu moved first.
The moment killing intent crashed down on him, his hand snapped upward. A dull green glow flickered as a thin sword shot from his sleeve, spinning through the rain like a butterfly.
Flying Poison Sword.
The blade twisted through the air, grazing wrists, necks, and shoulders. A single scratch was all it took. Wherever the sword passed, veins turned black instantly as the poison invaded their body.
The suited men froze mid-step.
One dropped to a knee.
Another clawed at his throat, eyes wide in disbelief.
Then they fell one after another.
The flying sword returned to Chen Yu's hand, trembling violently.
He stood there, chest heaving, blood dripping freely now. His Qi burned hot and unstable, tearing through his meridians as he forced it to obey
Xu Liang's smile faded.
"…Poison," he muttered, eyes narrowing. "I forgot."
He raised his hand.
The air twisted.
Something unseen lunged forward, an invisible maw formed entirely out of condensed Qi. Chen Yu's eyes widened as his instincts told him to move, but his body was already too slow.
Crunch.
Pain exploded through him.
The force slammed into his stomach, tearing flesh apart as if gnawed by a giant beast. Flesh and blood scattered as a chunk of his stomach was ripped away.
He was barely able to stand.
Xu Liang lowered his hand slowly.
"Did you really think," he said quietly, "that a mad dog's final bite would change the outcome?"
Rain washed the blood toward the edge of the rooftop.
Chen Yu coughed, blood spilling freely from his lips.
Yet he laughed.
"That…" he rasped, lifting his head to meet Xu Liang's gaze, eyes burning bright despite everything, "wasn't my final bite."
Xu Liang frowned.
Chen Yu raised the Flying Poison Sword.
"For snakes," he continued hoarsely, lips curling upward, "the deadliest strike is the one they turn on themselves."
Before anyone could react, he dragged the blade across his own palm.
The cut was shallow.
It was enough.
Venom-laced Qi surged instantly, flooding his veins like a raging fire. His skin cracked, veins crawling dark as it slowly melted away.
Xu Liang's eyes widened.
"STOP!" he shouted, all calm gone in an instant. "Chen Yu—are you insane?!"
Chen Yu laughed again.
With shaking fingers, he raised his hand.
And gave Xu Liang the middle finger.
"For once," Chen Yu said softly, as his body began to collapse in on itself, "you don't get to decide how this ends."
"Have fun with the ashes of my body."
With those final words, Chen Yu threw himself off the edge of the skyscraper.
Wind roared past him as his body fell, flesh corroding by the second. His vision blurred as darkness crept in from the edges.
But if Xu Liang thought this was his end, then he was far from correct.
Chen Yu closed his eyes in a last-ditch effort as he drew his attention to his Internal Canvas.
The world beneath him was vast and empty, an endless expanse stretching without sky.
He collapsed onto his hands and knees.
His limbs shook violently as blood dripped from him, each drop vanishing the moment it touched the ground.
The brush lay ahead of him.
His Internal Brush.
It rested where it always had, its shaft embedded lightly into the white ground like a relic waiting to be claimed.
"Move…" he whispered.
Chen Yu dragged himself forward, fingers clawing uselessly at the Canvas as his Qi bled away with every second. His meridians screamed as he forced what little remained to circulate, the flow jagged and broken, tearing more than it repaired.
At last, his trembling hand closed around the brush.
The moment he touched it, green light flared.
Qi poured from him uncontrollably, flooding into the brush as if it were a bottomless abyss. The Internal Brush drank greedily, its tip flushed with black ink.
He lifted the brush.
And dragged it down.
The moment the tip touched the Canvas, reality shuddered.
The white beneath the stroke fractured like glass, cracks stretching outward as the line carved itself into existence.
This stroke, this final Line, was his only chance to step into the Immortal Realm.
The Canvas split wider as he felt his Dantian crack internally.
Halfway through the stroke, the brush trembled violently.
His grip slipped.
Chen Yu's eyelids grew impossibly heavy.
"No…" he whispered. "Not here—"
"Just a bit more…"
His sentence died out, and the world turned black.