Chapter 9: Adapting... First Kill...
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"Knock knock! We are your senior brothers, you piece of trash! Open up!"
A loud and boisterous voice sounded out from the other side of a small shed's paper-thin door.
And it didn't take much for the door to come crashing down as multiple figures with two bamboo sticks engraved on their robes appeared in the gaping hole of Azmodeus's home.
"..." The young boy in question looked at this go down with an apathetic gaze.
He didn't very much like rude guests, and these ones were quite the high-ranking ones, so shouldn't they have more class than this?
In spite of these thoughts, he asked, "What are you all doing here?"
"Is that sas I hear in your voice, you piece of trash??" A young man with his hair pulled down sneered with a disdainful look on his face.
This waste is only a couple years younger than us, and yet he's still lingering in the Lowest Stages of the Strength Refining Realm! I've never seen such trash in my entire life!
This young man's name was Yang Bo, and he was turning fifteen years old this year, making him quite the genius as he had achieved the Peak Stages of the Viscera Training Large Success Realm within a short two and a half years.
In terms of the rankings in the Yang Sect, he was considered to be around mid-rank of the Outer Sect Disciples!
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"There's no need to go so hard on the waste, brother Yang Bo. After all, he has it quite hard! I mean, just take a look at that face of his! And with a cultivation like that, it's no wonder that he's such a wastrel..." A man called Yang Ming ridiculed Azmodeus with a 'friendly' voice.
"Shut up, all of you. We just need to bring this boy back for punishment. Don't complicate things with your nonsense."
The leading man, with a stern gaze, silenced the chatter of his fellow Outer Sect Disciples with a non-negotiable tone.
This man was called Yang Hao, and he was ranked within the top 30 of the Outer Sect, being at the Absolute Peak of the Viscera Training Large Success Stage.
In addition to that, his combat power had already surpassed his cultivation realm, as he was said to be capable of going toe to toe with someone in the Early Stages of the Altering Muscle Realm.
"..."
"..."
Azmodeus looked at the incoming fiery fist—a fist that possessed enough power to topple a large tree.
He was going to just give them a small slap on the hand and have them keep quiet about his strength, but that all changed the moment someone aimed to take his life.
Although he had never taken a human life himself, there was really only one thing that he had been adept at for as long as he could remember...
Adaptation... For a cultivator to become stronger, they must adapt...
His thoughts were followed by lightning-quick decisiveness as he lifted up a hand, taking out a sharp stone head.
Following this sudden movement, he took the stone and sliced the air in front of him.
*Spurt!*
Crimson-colored blood gushed out of the neck of Yang Hao, as he wasn't even given the time to understand what happened before the light faded from his eyes.
And along with it, something else changed in the eyes of Azmodeus.
Something started to change, something that bridged the gap between his humanity and something far less human...
To be a cultivator, one must adapt...
That was a code that he had lived by since the moment he was abandoned.
To adapt was to accept and improve. And that was what a cultivator needed to survive in the dog-eat-dog world of Prometheus.
This is what must be done if I wish to survive... If I wish to get stronger and pay back my dues...
After this thought entered Azmodeus's mind, his gaze hardened as he turned his head up from the dead Yang Hao, finding his next targets.
They will help me adapt... They will help me improve...
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