The two of them were running at nearly 80 miles per hour.
They obviously couldn’t keep running like this forever. Ji Tianjin said in a low voice, “There’s a valley up ahead. We’ll set an ambush there.”
Su Cha considered briefly and replied, “It’ll slow us down and give more people time to arrive.”
It was really easy to call for reinforcements now—just one phone call and done.
When he heard “more people,” Ji Tianjin’s gaze grew even more complicated.
Su Cha gave an awkward laugh. “In this life, it’s impossible not to offend a few people.”
It’s just that he might’ve made a few too many enemies—and quite a few of them came to him first.
Now wasn’t the time to dig into that. Ji Tianjin’s ears twitched slightly, and his super 3S spirit strength spread across the forest. “They’re contacting a family named He. They want to flank us from the north.”
Su Cha was stunned. “You understood that?”
His own name sounded a bit like the pronunciation in Standard Galactic, and he had assumed that Ji Tianjin thought he was the one being mentioned, which is why he didn’t think much of it at first.
Ji Tianjin replied, “The mechanical gloves have a translation function.”
Of course Su Cha knew that—mechanical gloves were essentially advanced smart brains. The issue was that they shouldn’t be able to record languages from such distant star systems.
Ji Tianjin didn’t know why either, but he had a guess. “It was teacher.”
During past combat training, his mechanical gloves had been sent for repairs several times. Only Cyril could’ve done something like this.
“Don’t get distracted,” Su Cha pulled him forward, picking up speed as he said, “Cyril only ran into them once.”
“That’s enough.”
Su Cha turned his head in surprise.
Ji Tianjin said, “When a soul reaches a certain level of strength, it can read others’ perceptions and understand what they’re trying to express. Once you amplify that perception and collect the sounds of this world, it’s easy to figure out the structure of the language.”
Even when Cyril was in deep sleep, his soul was watching over all of Fog Star. Even a single meeting—or even separated by thousands of miles—if he wanted, he could hear sounds from other planets.
Even while being hunted, Su Cha noticed Ji Tianjin seemed to be in a good mood.
He quickly understood why. Cyril had been here—and had even upgraded Ji Tianjin’s gloves. That meant he intended for Ji Tianjin to come in the future, and doing so assumed one thing: he trusted Ji Tianjin not to betray him.
But there was something even more important—outsiders had a hard time infiltrating lower-tier planets. Cyril was too powerful and could only act a few times at most. Ji Tianjin was different. He was still in his growth phase—strong, but manageable for the world, and therefore less rejected by it.
Ji Tianjin suddenly slowed his pace and calmly analyzed, “The people chasing us aren’t united. The best approach is to kill one to warn the rest.”
But it had to be fast and clean.
Su Cha mused, “Maybe add one more step—wave tiger skin as a banner.”
He understood better than anyone that they couldn’t drag this out. News of his reappearance had probably already reached the clan.
The Flower Demon Clan.
The news had actually come back several minutes ago.
It had been a long time since the Flower Demon Clan massacre. After years of deliberately shaped oral retellings, Su Cha had long been painted as an unforgivable criminal in the eyes of his people.
That image had only just started to fade with time, but after the failed soul-calling ritual at the altar—whether from guilt or something else—Su Yeling had convened a family meeting to dredge it all up again and stressed that Su Cha, having fallen to darkness, must die.
As soon as he heard Su Cha had reappeared, Su Yeling immediately gathered several elders. “Su Cha and the Flower Demon Clan are now enemies to the death. I hope everyone understands that.”
One of the elders’ expressions flickered. Back when the clan punishment was carried out, they had all been involved. As Su Yeling said, there was no turning back now.
The clan’s current location was far from where Su Cha was. Rushing over now would likely be too late.
In contrast to his elegant demeanor, Su Yeling’s methods were seasoned and ruthless. “With great rewards come brave men. Spread the word immediately—whoever kills Su Cha gets double the bounty.”
The elders exchanged glances, clearly in agreement.
Su Yeling’s phone kept vibrating in his pocket. His expression unchanged, he left the room first. Once outside, his face softened. “Ah Yu.”
A cold female voice came from the other end of the line. “I heard Su Cha appeared at Mount Pingxu.”
“Yes,” Su Yeling said in a low voice. “I’ll take care of it.”
The woman’s voice carried a hint of worry. “I’m afraid he might say something he shouldn’t—might affect you badly.”
“No one will believe a traitor,” Su Yeling’s tone gentled as he comforted her. “Even if he shouted the truth to the sky, no one would believe him.”
…
While the Flower Demon Clan was frantically spreading the news and trying to attract bounty hunters, Su Cha and Ji Tianjin had already stopped in the valley.
The first person to arrive didn’t even get a chance to feel excited—Su Cha’s vine pierced through space and appeared right in front of his nose. The guy had never seen anything like this. Even on a normal day, his philosophy was “if you can’t win, run,” which was how he’d gotten so fast.
Unfortunately, that speed became his death sentence today.
There was no mercy in Su Cha’s clear eyes. “You want to kill me, so I’ll kill you.”
Before he even finished speaking, the vine shot straight through the space between the man’s eyebrows—straight through the brain.
With Su Cha’s and Ji Tianjin’s overlapping spiritual pressure, the man’s brief attempt to resist was crushed instantly. And in that instant, he was already dead.
Su Cha instinctively reached out and covered Ji Tianjin’s eyes. “Don’t look.”
Ji Tianjin chuckled. “What’s there to be afraid of? It’s just a corpse.”
But when they turned back, the fallen body had turned into a massive rat—well over a hundred kilos.
Ji Tianjin: “…”
More pursuers were closing in. The shouts of “kill him” echoed through the valley, sounding like they were hunting down some great demon king.
For the first time, the shadows in Ji Tianjin’s eyes became clearly visible. If he hadn’t expended so much energy crossing the wormhole earlier, he would’ve dyed every leaf in this forest red today.
Su Cha glanced at him. Ji Tianjin gave a small nod, and the next moment, both of their spiritual powers surged to the limit. A faint, unremarkable floral scent spread with the wind, seeping into every corner—lotus magnolia fragrance that forcibly dulled people’s combat instincts.
Then, a tiger’s roar thundered through the forest, suppressing the clamor of voices shouting for his death.
Spiritual forms could vary in size. The white tiger ballooned to several times its original size midair. Influenced by its master’s will, its fierce eyes brimmed with killing intent.
Ji Tianjin didn’t use his mechanical gloves for close combat. Instead, he chose a more energy-consuming method—brutally bombarding the pursuers with raw spiritual force. The visual impact was immense; the instant blood exploded into the air, the once-aggressive pursuers immediately lost much of their momentum.
But what truly unsettled them was the white tiger.
“Divine beast…” someone muttered, nervously eyeing the creature.
The others didn’t look any better. No one dared to charge in. Instead, they all raised their heads warily. “To think a white tiger still exists in this era…”
“One of the Four Celestial Beasts, one awakens… could this world be descending into chaos again?”
Whether or not chaos would come didn’t concern them—but it was said that slaying a divine beast would bring divine retribution, and no one wanted to be the fool to test that legend.
Ji Tianjin’s mechanical gloves translated their whispers in real time. The spirit form could sense its master’s thoughts. The tiger’s eyes, once filled only with murderous intent, now held a trace of confusion.
Huh?
Divine beast?
Since when did I have such an epic background?
When it heard “Four Celestial Beasts,” the majestic tiger’s paw twitched slightly. Luckily its snowy fur covered the motion—or it might’ve seemed like it was embarrassed.
These people are shameless. Can’t win, so now they’re flattering me?
Su Cha let out a timely cold laugh. “The White Tiger rules the West, wields immense divine power, and determines fortune and misfortune. I’d like to see which one of you dares to strike.”
Even more flattery. What now? The tiger was utterly at a loss.
Su Cha shot Ji Tianjin a sharp look. “Be confident. Lift your head.”
Ji Tianjin gave a light cough and mentally reminded his spirit form to act more prideful.
Up in the sky, the white tiger froze in one pose, enduring the barrage of complex gazes below.
“…Can I please go fight now?”
But the tiger’s plea never reached its master. Su Cha quietly asked, “Can your spirit form talk? Get it to say something—like ‘Tremble, mortals.’ It doesn’t have to be perfect.”
Ji Tianjin’s eyelid twitched. “I don’t think it can.”
Putting away his regret, Su Cha beckoned with a finger. The white tiger understood and padded over. In the next second, Su Cha climbed onto its back.
Everyone was stunned.
“Wh-White…” someone stammered, tongue-tied. “The white tiger actually let him ride it?”
That person wasn’t alone—many had forgotten their original purpose and were already pulling out phones to record.
Everyone knew that even beasts with just a hint of noble blood would never allow themselves to be ridden. Their innate pride meant they’d never lower themselves, no matter the hardship.
But now, a divine beast was being ridden?
Was this real life?
Under their shocked stares, the white tiger’s eyes flickered with visible confusion. What’s the big deal? Why can’t I be ridden?
Isn’t charging into battle like this totally normal?
Su Cha gestured for Ji Tianjin to get on too. Silver hair whipped wildly in the wind as he spoke: “Tell Su Yeling—what he sowed in the past, I will return a hundredfold.”
The white tiger leapt high into the air. Su Cha didn’t pull back his spiritual pressure, making it seem like the divine beast carried an innate aura of oppression.
Borrowing the “divine beast” pretense worked. Cultivators naturally felt awe toward such beings—but that awe couldn’t withstand testing. Su Cha knew they had to leave quickly.
Until then, every move had to radiate overwhelming dominance.
With a light tap of his slender fingers on the tiger’s fur, Su Cha lowered his voice. “When I say a line, you roar.”
Then, amplified by spiritual force, he projected:
“The White Tiger storms through halls—where it passes, homes are shattered and lives are lost.”
The tiger opened its mouth twice before finally managing a deep roar: “ROAR—”
“One day, I’ll ride this divine beast and flatten everything under Su Yeling’s name!”
“ROAR—”
With those harsh words left behind, Su Cha rode west without looking back, the setting sun staining the sky blood-red, casting the two retreating figures in a fiery glow.
No one pursued.
Ji Tianjin’s analysis had been spot-on. Though the enemy group looked large, like a nest of snakes and rats, the moment they were forced to break formation and go alone, not a single one dared to act.
The only movement came from those furiously snapping photos, preparing to later verify the divine beast’s authenticity.
Silence fell again across the mountains and valleys. Long after Su Cha disappeared, some were still staring in the direction he’d gone, sensing the Flower Demon Clan might be in deep trouble this time.
