Myriad Realms Gatekeeper

"Good blade," the tall man exclaimed, his eyes wide.

"Of course, it's a good blade," Shen Ye responded.

"I only need to make one move, and it will be mine," the tall man declared.

"You are not mistaken," Shen Ye said, lowering his eyes and speaking softly, "it will thirst for your blood and flesh."

The tall man's footsteps suddenly quickened, and a knife appeared abruptly in his hand.

With a flash of the knife and a rapid buzzing sound, it reached right in front of Shen Ye's eyes in an instant.

This strike aimed to pierce the eye socket, immediately cross slice, lift the skull, and cleave away half of the brain.

Normally, that's how it would be.

But not today—

The crowd only saw the tall and fierce man's strike, but no one saw Shen Ye's knife.

Shen Ye's knife was faster than that move.

The blade technique was completely different.

In the moment the Hongying Knife was drawn from its sheath, everything around became still and slow.

Shen Ye watched as the tall man, moving at a speed akin to slow motion, thrust his long knife towards him.

Strange.

He could see clearly every move of the man—

The man's slowly falling stride, the swinging of the sword at a speed resembling the morning Tai Chi of elderly people in the park, as well as the twisted muscles of his face from exertion, and the murderous intent in his eyes.

Utter slow motion.

At the same time, the air around him became heavy and sticky.

It felt a bit like diving in the deep sea.

A streak of enlightenment crossed Shen Ye's mind.

It turned out that this blade technique was not just a simple technique, but a fusion of various forces.

This move, "Thinking of You," had transcended the category of normal blade technique.

Its effect was unheard of.

As a Tomb Soldier suddenly acquiring such skills might provoke some trouble.

That's why the "Three Disasters" had come to kill and intimidate.

If you don't make it through, it's a dead end.

If you do, you're worthy of using such blade technique.

Shen Ye's gaze swept over the man's entire body.

In the end.

He chose the part he would strike.

The long knife danced in midair, like a burst of spring breeze hitting one's face, as soothing as whispers of lovers under the moonlit night.

Everything became increasingly slow.

The knife.

Seemed to come to life, moving lightly in time with the rhythm.

It landed on the tall man's chest, like a sudden breeze, tenderly licking the unprotected neck, reluctant to leave, from the front to the back, twisting into a perfect full moon circle.

Shen Ye and the man passed by each other.

This sudden encounter had finally reached the moment of parting.

Blood blossomed furiously.

Life withered in the rotation of the long knife.

And the blade, trembling slowly, shook off all the blood water, as sharp as new, before it was slowly sheathed.

Clang!

The frozen time-space returned to normal.

Everyone felt a blur before their eyes, as if a startling swan had fluttered by, and the two men at the counter had already passed by each other.

The tall man held his long knife and sighed.

"What kind of blade technique is this?" he asked.

Shen Ye replied, "Thinking of You—the thoughts of you can't be forgotten, no matter how far apart we are."

"To see such blade technique, well, it's enough," the man murmured, as a line of blood silently appeared on his neck, followed by his head and body falling to the ground together.

The shopkeeper eyed the knife in Shen Ye's hand with a glint of greed in his eyes and said:

"Next one."

"No, no need for the next one," Shen Ye declared.

"Why not?" asked the shopkeeper.

"I think you're running a shady business, so I've decided not to rest here," Shen Ye stated.

"You want to leave? The desert is fraught with danger, and deadly risks lurk at every turn; only here can you find safety," the shopkeeper insisted.

Shen Ye snorted, stepped backward to the door, turned, and walked away.
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Elsewhere.

In the private room on the underground floor.

"Sir, as long as you are willing to abandon your subordinate, you can comfortably spend a few days here, and then everything will be over," the Shop Assistant respectfully continued:

"If you do not give up your subordinate, then you must face a rotation battle—"

"Look, here are all masters of the Sixth Layer of the Dharma Realm and above."

"How many layers are you at?"

Mo Ga Ru gestured a "seven" with his hand.

The Shop Assistant nodded, understanding, and continued:

"These masters here will challenge you in a rotation battle, and you must survive for a quarter of an hour to be able to stay safely here for one day."

Mo Ga Ru looked around at the strong figures, then thought to himself for a moment, quickly coming to a decision.

He didn't know what lay ahead.

Was he supposed to fight these strong men?

Rotation battle.

It consumes a great deal of physical strength.

Without strength, there is danger.

— Baxter's life is not as important as my own, is it?

Let him die.

As long as I am safe, that's all that matters.

"So, what is your choice?" the Shop Assistant asked.

Mo Ga Ru nodded and said:

"Look at you, you son of a bitch, If I don't beat you till you're pissing shit today, I don't deserve to be your father, you damn little bastard."

"..." the Shop Assistant.

"..." Mo Ga Ru.

Wait!

It was the effect of that pill!

In a panic, Mo Ga Ru blurted out, "Stupid fuck, want a key made? How many fucking keys?"

"..." the Shop Assistant.

Mo Ga Ru shook his head and said firmly, "You short-lived fat trembler, star of calamity, listen well to me—"

"Stop! Sir, I understand your meaning!" the Shop Assistant cut him off, stepping back, "You and your subordinate are indeed tough nuts to crack; let's see what you're made of then."

"..." Mo Ga Ru.

The Shop Assistant gestured with his hand.

Throughout the underground floor, countless masters stood up simultaneously, eyeing Mo Ga Ru with malice.

Mo Ga Ru was stunned for a moment, then suddenly patted his mouth.

—What the hell was I thinking, eating random stuff?

That's cursed!

But that Shop Assistant said neither I nor my subordinate are pushovers?

That means—

Baxter didn't choose to betray me.

With that thought, Mo Ga Ru's expression became complicated.