Chapter 180: Thousand-Hand Distortion
At the staircase or elevator entrance on the floor where Jiang Yao’s room was located, at least seven or eight little blood servants, resembling hyacinths, squeezed together with peculiar expressions, peering into the corridor as if some incredible event was unfolding.
As the elevator doors opened and Wan Yue stepped out, she immediately sensed a familiar yet strange seep of chaotic energy emanating from Jiang Yao’s room—there was resistance, fear, and a hint of excitement.
“Are you all just loitering around?”
Wan Yue’s voice startled the little blood servants at the staircase and elevator. Within seconds, they scattered in all directions.
Upon reaching the door of Jiang Yao’s room, she realized it was ajar. Inside, Jiang Yan was softly muttering something while Jiang Yao, aside from continuously emanating that strange aura, remained mostly silent.
“Still not ready?”
As soon as she entered the room, Wan Yue burst into laughter. There, in the center of the bed, was a mound resembling a small hill made of blankets.
“I can’t make sense of it either.”
Jiang Yao was hiding under the blanket and didn’t dare show her face, while Jiang Yan stood helplessly, offering Wan Yue a wry smile.
“I’m really fine… you guys can leave; I can handle this myself!”
From beneath the blankets came Jiang Yao’s muffled urging, as if she disliked having anyone in her room or being seen in her current state.
“Hiding under the blanket will solve the problem?”
Wan Yue walked to the bed and smacked the blanket, turning to Jiang Yan to ask, “When did this happen?”
“A few hours ago, I haven’t gotten to the bottom of it…” Jiang Yan sighed helplessly, “She must have exhausted her boiling blood during the hand distortion incident. She just drank my blood and feels a bit better now.”
“Weren’t you incredibly bold before? Now you’re embarrassed?”
Wan Yue frowned and grasped the edge of the blanket, pulling it with force. Jiang Yao screamed and shrank back to the head of the bed, tightly hugging her chest with both hands.
A small pair of panties was the only piece of clothing Jiang Yao was wearing, her hair disheveled so that her expression couldn’t be seen. On her back, mysteriously, four tentacle-like appendages, about two meters long, were flailing about. They resembled burnt aloe leaves with sharply serrated edges.
The Alatai blood clan excels in explosive bursts, with speed second only to the Caucasian blood clan, and their boiling blood threshold can reach twenty. Especially after reaching the baron rank, under weak ultraviolet conditions, the night body abilities conferred by their lineage grant such explosive power that Alatai blood clan members can temporarily exceed their usual combat capabilities.
However, the combat methods of the Alatai clan are notably singular. Even at the baron rank, they rely almost solely on close-quarters combat.
Moreover, the stability of their boiling blood is relatively low, leading to just average combat endurance. Once they can’t suppress their opponents in a short time, they are no different from easy prey.
Only when they reach the count of earl does their unique ability wake up and bestow various new combat modes upon the Alatai blood clan. By manipulating the black leaf-like tentacles that distort from their back, they can execute imaginative offensive and defensive maneuvers.
“The Earl’s dry hand of the Alatai blood clan… can be used but can’t be retracted. Your dry hand seems to be under some form of control, yet it also appears uncontrolled.”
Wan Yue struggled to suppress her laughter, sitting at the edge of the bed and gently touching the black leaf-like tentacles blooming from Jiang Yao’s back. The moment her fingertips made contact, Jiang Yao shuddered; the black tentacle withdrew in fright like a scared animal, twitching feebly.
“Don’t touch! It hurts, it’s too sensitive!”
Jiang Yao shielded her face with her hands, lifting her head slightly, her complexion a blend of red and white.
“Without boiling blood, if you can’t retract it, the dry hand distortion will cause it to necrotize.”
Wan Yue sighed and shook her head repeatedly before slapping Jiang Yao lightly on the head. “This is the consequence of your usual poor boiling blood stability. You tapped into it, but it was essentially useless because you exhausted your boiling blood. So, what’s the point of relying solely on high-intensity boiling blood to fight?”
The crux is that newly promoted earls typically already possess two appendages, and it’s only after the stability and threshold of boiling blood improve that they gradually start increasing the number. Just how much strength do you have to be able to drink enough to sprout four?
Sitting to one side, Wan Yue observed Jiang Yao’s dry hand distortion with a mix of amusement and incredulity.
“What should I do? It hurts so much!”
Jiang Yao was on the verge of tears, the leaf-like tentacles on her back twisting powerlessly, and their color seemed darker than before, looking as though they were carbonizing.
“Let’s set that aside for now. Just take any medications that can be ingested and let’s draw some blood.”
The distorted appendage could die off; when that happens, it’ll be cut off and left to heal on its own. After all, your regenerative power is strong. Just make sure to supplement with protein and calcium, as all of this is your own body tissue. Wan Yue felt a bit helpless, as she had never encountered a situation where someone suddenly sprouted a thousand hands, drained their blood energy, and collapsed, leading to an irreversible distortion and eventual necrosis. It was like a gaming character who had a thousand mana points, but just one major move consumed 990, and it went cold before even activating properly.
Jiang Yao seemed to recall an experience of extracting a bullet from her body without any anesthetic or painkillers, her face instantly losing color. Ignoring that Wan Yue and Jiang Yan were still in the room, and not caring that she was completely naked, Jiang Yao nearly rolled off the bed and fished her phone from under her pillow, promptly dialing Zhong Jing’s number. “Zhong Jing, hurry! I’m dying! I need anesthetics!” As she spoke, Jiang Yao rubbed the corners of her eyes that held no tears, her voice shaky. After a few seconds, her expression changed again, abruptly shifting to anger, “Get your ass here now! I’ll count to three!”
Wan Yue and Jiang Yan exchanged glances, and after a few seconds, the two quietly exited the room, leaving Jiang Yao alone to throw a tantrum. After finishing the call, Jiang Yao looked down and realized she was still topless, her two white rabbits exposed in broad daylight. Her expression shifted dramatically, but unfortunately, there was almost no clothing that could accommodate the slowly necrotizing dry hand distortions. This was a problem that needed solving; if it wasn’t fixed before she healed, she would be left with an empty front.
Quickly, Jiang Yao activated her phone, furiously navigating as if possessed. The screen froze on alluring strapless and seamless bras. She frowned and then searched for enticing backless outfits that yielded an avalanche of options.
“Wan Jie’s private suite—this is the echelons of the queen. She has mastered the control of special internal hormones through the advanced study subjects of the Alatai lineage. However, the Thousand-Hand technique is a capacity that requires a high threshold for boiling blood stability; the consumption of blood energy protein evidently exceeds her current level. Using this ability signifies a loss of combat effectiveness.”
As she thought about it, Jiang Yan sighed, feeling somewhat helpless. “Jiang Yan, you should take this as a cautionary tale since the Lysian blood clan’s blood blades have even higher demands for boiling blood stability.”
“Sorry, Wan Jie, when I gave Xiao Yao the option for the second system ability, I didn’t take that into account,” Jiang Yan expressed her regret. “Currently, Jiang Yao is still far behind in terms of accumulation in her realm. In gaming terms, she simply lacks enough mana.”
That’s not the worst outcome; right now, she’s just lacking training quantifiably. “Have you still not found an opportunity to enter the queen realm?”
“Ha, look at this girl, she’s not stupid,” Wan Yue commented as she turned her attention to the surveillance footage on the computer screen, chuckling when she saw a certain girl shimmying entirely into a costume, with only her head peeking out.
“Perhaps I can’t even enter the queen realm.” Jiang Yan didn’t concern herself with Jiang Yao’s clever antics, merely shaking her head, feeling a little insecure. “Well, we’ll see…”
Wan Yue sighed, voicing her acceptance of this. Just then, there was a knock at the door. Wan Yue turned to look, amused, while Jiang Yan’s face suddenly became uncomfortable. Outside was Meng Huai’s presence, the unique impurity feel of the Black Blood clan’s energy already faintly perceptible, and emotions very stable yet laced with slight anxiety.
As the door opened, Meng Huai was about to step in when he saw Jiang Yan and froze, his mouth twitching but no words escaping. “Wan Jie, I’ll take my leave.” Jiang Yan quickly stood, her head down as she walked toward the door. In the split second of passing Meng Huai’s body, she was tugged back by him.
“I told you we have no relationship anymore, didn’t I?”
Jiang Yan halted, yanking her hand back with force, not looking at him but muttering lightly, “Okay, any conflicts can be discussed later, just let it go…”
“Meng Huai wants you here to tell you something,” Meng Huai stated, but Jiang Yan had already left the room and the door closed behind her. Wan Yue’s smile remained unchanged.
“Wan Jie, is there something you need me to do?”
Meng Huai slightly tilted his head, glancing at the door, sensing that Jiang Yan hadn’t gone far, feeling a bit anxious inside. Wan Yue said nothing, simply lighting a cigarette, watching Meng Huai standing at the center of the living room with apparent interest, her lips curling into a mysterious smile.
Meng Huai’s heart raced slightly under Wan Yue’s chaotic aura, a feeling of inexplicable tension building. For the entirety of a cigarette, Wan Yue exhaled the last puff, the smoke extinguished.
“It’s not exactly important, it’s your own matter… You’ve already been declared missing in action by Dark Arrow; your grave has even been prepared. What are your thoughts on that?”
“Only two months, that doesn’t align with Dark Arrow’s rules…”
Meng Huai remained unfazed, even assessing the procedural issues at play.
“Staying cooped up here all day must have you feeling restless. Go check your own grave; it’ll be an interesting experience. Set out later; let Jiang Yan drive you there.”
Wan Yue’s words surprised Meng Huai. After a few seconds of silence, he nodded vigorously with a serious expression and turned to leave.
“Also, if you truly have feelings for her, be sure to scold her thoroughly. For true feelings and the truth, you can only choose one. Some people, once missed, can never be reclaimed…”
“You should actually feel fortunate; in her heart, there’s still a place for you. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have risked so much to pull you out of hell and restored you to human shape.”
Just before Meng Huai stepped out, Wan Yue’s soft words lingered behind him.
In the dusk, an SUV arrived at the southern town of Yueguan in City B of province A, stopping outside a small restaurant.
On the vehicle were one or two sturdy men dressed in outdoor sportswear, all standing tall with piercing gazes. The leading youth looked up at the small restaurant’s second floor, where a village KTV was located.
“Commander, weren’t we supposed to be heading to Myanmar to carry out a reconnaissance mission?”
One of the team members following behind Tu Wei Jun glanced around and lowered his voice, “Yueguan Town is under the control of the Luo family; we might expose our identities.”
“Hmm, no rush. There’s some intel needed for the investigation here; you all wait for me.”
Tu Wei Jun smiled, not intending to explain much, and entered the corridor beside the small restaurant alone.
Today the KTV wasn’t open; Yang Jiu was only wearing a t-shirt, revealing a big portion of tattoos on his neck and arms, appearing particularly prominent under the dim light while sitting alone at the computer at the front desk, playing games.
A tall shadow loomed over him, followed by a faint chaotic aura quietly weaving into his sensory perception. Yang Jiu looked up to see a sturdy, cold-looking youth staring at him intently.
Before he could adjust his focus, he felt the youth’s features starting to blur, making it impossible to see his face clearly, as if his vision was being interfered with.
What the hell, it’s an Apennine baron, he’s interfering with my vision!
Yang Jiu shivered, slowly standing up, forcing a smile, hunching over in a very humble attitude, “B-Baron… um, big brother, what can I do for you? Just say the word, whatever I can do—”
“You’re Yang Jiu?”
Tu Wei Jun interrupted the flattery, scanning deeper into the KTV before locking onto Yang Jiu’s eyes and pulling out a photo from his pocket, slapping it down on the counter, “This person visited you here over two months ago. Where did he go?”
What the hell is this Li Huai, who’s been on my mind for the last two months?
Previously it was Dark Arrow, then it was the Black Dragon Society’s Pang Yun, and now a suddenly emerging Apennine baron… The photo hit the counter, and Yang Jiu looked down, his heart racing again.
“Uh… big brother, may I ask, are you from the Luo family or the Hermit Alliance?”
Yang Jiu picked up the photo, pretending to scrutinize it carefully while cautiously probing.
In the underground world, everyone knew that the Luo family in province A began a massive counteroffensive half a month ago and, together with the Hermit Alliance, took down the Black Dragon Society’s entrepreneur Zhu Bixian’s stronghold in Myanmar’s old street.
Now, under the Luo family’s sweep, half of province A had reverted to the conditions of decades ago, with the Black Dragon Society completely collapsed, and even some vagabond blood clan powers seizing the chance to take over many territories of the Black Dragon Society.
However, it was said that other foreign clan forces began infiltrating Myanmar, disrupting the Luo family’s rhythm and stirring chaos again.
Yang Jiu had been roaming the southwestern region for years and had a keen sense of awareness, predicting that this would inevitably attract some troublesome figures, like the one standing before him now.
“Who I am doesn’t matter; you just need to answer my question.”
Tu Wei Jun looked at Yang Jiu’s face, directly yanking him by the collar and leading him into the small room behind the front desk.
“Big brother, this person looks unfamiliar to me, I really don’t recall… Please, big brother, we can talk nicely about this. Let me think, let me think!”
As the door closed, Tu Wei Jun pulled out a silenced pistol and pressed it against Yang Jiu’s forehead, frightening him into not daring to bluff anymore. He dropped to his knees, arms raised in a gesture of surrender.
“Afraid of getting into trouble? Do you think I don’t know your intentions? This guy showed up here in late December last year!”
Tu Wei Jun lowered the gun and kicked Yang Jiu to the ground.
“I… I’ve seen him. He intended for me to recommend him to the Luo family… But then he got targeted by Pang Yun who works for Zhu Bixian. I have no idea if he’s alive or dead… Big brother, I truly only know this much, Pang Yun is a Black Blood clan member, ruthless in his dealings; I can’t offend him!”
Under Tu Wei Jun’s piercing gaze, Yang Jiu’s face turned pale as a sheet, his whole body shaking like a leaf, blurting out all the details of his contact with Meng Huai as if spilling beans.
He was certain that if he tried to evade, the other party might just kill him.
“Li Huai… was captured by Pang Yun from the Black Dragon Society… I heard Pang Yun is dead on the old street. Did any of his guys escape?”
Tu Wei Jun pondered for a moment and pulled out a stack of cash from his pocket, lightly tossing it on the table in front of Yang Jiu.
“There are two, they bought a way out from here and returned to the country to hide from the wind. I have their hiding address!”
Yang Jiu was drenched in cold sweat, seizing the cash, bobbing his head eagerly and scanning for paper and pen.
“Is there anyone from Dark Arrow also looking for him?” Tu Wei Jun tucked away the note Yang Jiu handed over, placing it in his pocket, his expression softening considerably, “Take a look, is this the person?”
Tu Wei Jun pulled out another photo from his pocket, revealing a half-body shot of Han Jie in military uniform.
“Hmm… yes, that’s him, but I was afraid of getting into trouble, so I didn’t tell him anything!”
Yang Jiu kept his head down, cooperating to the utmost, not daring to entertain any thoughts—facing an Apennine baron, even a slight twitch of energy could alert him.
“Good, then there’s no issue.”
Tu Wei Jun put away the photo and turned to exit, while Yang Jiu wiped his sweat, feeling he had narrowly escaped once again—giving money while providing information indicated compliance with underground rules.
A strange, low gunshot rang out, and Yang Jiu felt the world instantly plunge into darkness, his consciousness sinking into a bottomless abyss.
Yang Jiu collapsed to the ground, half his head blown off, splattering red and white all over the wall.
Back on the street, Tu Wei Jun took out a cigarette, lit it up, inhaled deeply, then looked at his two teammates: “You two go upstairs and take care of the room behind the KTV; bury the body far away.”
“Maintain confidentiality; once you’re done, we’ll head north. We still have time.”
The two teammates exchanged glances before nodding.
Late into the night, a rugged, luxurious SUV quietly parked outside the martyrs’ cemetery on the eastern outskirts of City C.
“Just wait for me a moment, a quick look is all; it’ll take about fifteen minutes.”
Meng Huai opened the door and stepped out, softly instructing Jiang Yan, who was at the driver’s seat.
From the start to their arrival, Jiang Yan hadn’t said a word to Meng Huai, nor did he speak, both lost in heavy thoughts.
After Meng Huai regained clarity, the relationship between the two strangely reverted to the state before their departure, seemingly pulled back by a powerful inertia that corrected their brief intimacy.
Rumor had it that the fallen soldiers of the Xuanjia Brigade were mostly buried here, making this one of the few places Meng Huai was familiar with aside from the base dormitories… Jiang Yan thought for a moment and followed along.
In reality, she was also curious about what kind of reaction Meng Huai would have while facing his “grave.”
Meng Huai’s aura was as clear as a beacon in the night; Jiang Yan simply followed the direction of his energy and easily found where he stood.
In the most secluded corner of the cemetery, recognizing the somewhat familiar surroundings, Jiang Yan silently sighed—this was the martyr’s grave for Jia Yan and Gu Yan. Now there was one more.
An additional new commemorative stone stood among them.
Meng Huai’s martyr gravestone was located beside Xia Yan’s, both of similar stature. At this moment, the area around his gravestone was filled with fresh flowers, suggesting that someone had recently visited to pay their respects.
Meng Huai’s gaze lingered on his gravestone for less than ten seconds before shifting to the grave of Xia Yan.
This had been his publicly declared wish: if he sacrificed himself, he wanted to be with his comrades and to have peace. Coincidentally, he ended up together with Xia Yan again.
These were three individuals deemed expendable in the mundane world before their time had truly ended. Once felt to be a natural destiny, this realization brought forth a different sensation.
After thinking for a moment, Meng Huai plucked a large bundle of flowers from before him and gently laid some on the graves of Xia Yan and Gu Yao, then fixed his gaze directly on Xia Yan’s gravestone.
“I once told you their story, and ironically, at that time, I never contemplated that you would also be a blood clan.”
Meng Huai sat down, wearing a self-deprecating smile: “Back then, narrating tales of comrades’ sacrifices in battle to a blood clan girl—wasn’t that quite ironic?”
“They, including you, are all guardians of this world… Meng Huai, even the hyacinth has been fighting against the blood clan, losing many brothers and sisters along the way.”
Jiang Yan neatly arranged the flowers in front of Gu Yao’s gravestone, her expression cool: “So, that’s why back then I found it moving… Do you think there’s a difference between us?”
“Wan Jie once said that becoming a blood clan is just a different perspective on the world; it’s unrelated to the innate goodness or evil of a person. Don’t even get started on the unacceptable changes that come with being a blood clan; even ordinary people change when their environments do.”
“Becoming a blood clan allows you to see many things you couldn’t before… it provides more choices to better yourself, or to allow yourself to become worse.”
After speaking, Jiang Yan hesitated for a moment but then sat down beside Meng Huai, hugging her knees and resting her chin on them.
“So, do you think I’ve changed?”
Meng Huai turned his head, observing the girl’s shiny black hair, his expression tightening a bit.
“I hope you’ve changed forever, but once you regained consciousness, those changes evaporated like dew, leaving you feeling hollow. You returned to your old world, and your thoughts still stand in opposition to this new one.”
Jiang Yan shook her head, a hint of bitterness appearing on her face.
Meng Huai was momentarily stunned; his mind replayed everything that had happened over the past few months, his heart swirling with confusion.
It seemed that both were mired in past awkward impressions, lacking a consensus on their current relationship—any minimal hint from their memories would trigger an emotionally charged response.
“Meng Huai, you and Xiao Yao share a painful past. You both have been looking for opportunities to reclaim a sense of justice from the past.”
“But you are luckier than her. Even if you don’t become a blood clan, there’s still a glimmer of hope for justice. But Xiao Yao isn’t; if she hadn’t become a blood clan, she would probably live her entire life burdened with pain and regret.”
“For some individuals, their fated destiny is to come into the blood clan world to begin the latter half of their life’s journey.”
As she spoke, Jiang Yan suddenly smiled, squatting in front of Gu Yao’s gravestone and lightly tracing the carved letters with her fingers.
Meng Huai stayed noncommittal, silently watching the girl before him, seemingly comparing her to his past impressions.
Meng Huai, do you resent your mother? She’s a blood clan member, high-ranking at that, an Apennine baron…
Jiang Yan suddenly turned her head, catching Meng Huai’s gaze, smiling serenely.
In Meng Huai’s mind floated memories of small rented apartments, kindergartens, amusement parks—images of a time when he and his mother relied on each other unfolded, though hazy and distant, yet hard to forget.
The lies his mother wove in his childhood were warm and romantic, but the night they disintegrated was terrifying, and so was the day he learned the truth upon returning to the Zhong family.
His mother was Fujihara Miaka, a blood clan member and the best mother in the world.
In truth, both Jiang Yan and his mother are objective existences in this world; it’s just that his mind and body have become misaligned. From the moment he discovered his mother was a blood clan member, the world seemed filled with conspiracies.
That feeling of conspiracy probably stemmed from his own psychological demons.
Perhaps he wasn’t truly a blood clan member, but just someone desperate to protect his beautiful life?
Let’s go.
Meng Huai shook his head, standing up and restoring his cold demeanor.
