[This system is a dignified, god-level system. Of course, I must maintain face.]
"Face, my ass! Then what about when I disguised myself as a rookie spirit master to enroll in Shrek Academy?"
"I was already a Titled Douluo back then—don't you think I had face to maintain?"
[This system is a dignified, god-level system.]
When Lin Fan heard that, his brain almost crammed from anger, nearly giving him a stroke.
He never thought the system could upgrade—and yet, it had done so… shamelessly.
"Fine, system, I won't argue with you. Since you've become god-level, then tell me—what new functions do you have?" Lin Fan asked curiously.
[None. The purpose of this system is to issue missions for the host to complete, thereby turning the tide of fate. Everything else depends on the host's effort.]
"…So what's the difference between you now and before?" Lin Fan asked speechlessly.
[The host may figure it out on his own.]
"Pfft—"
If Lin Fan were to die in the City of Slaughter, it wouldn't be from enemies—it would be from being infuriated to death by his system.
He lay on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling for a long time before muttering, "Wait… something feels off. Today, the system's way of talking… seems a bit more human-like."
"System, how old am I? What's my current spirit power rank?"
Noticing something unusual, Lin Fan tested it.
[Host: Lin Fan]
[Male, Age: 47, Spirit Power: Rank 97]
[Martial Spirits: Shadow Sword (Nine Rings), Slaughter Sword (Four Rings)]
[Spirit Bones: Head, Eight Spider Lances, Left Arm, Right Arm, Left Leg, Right Leg]
"Excellent! System, your intelligence has finally leveled up!"
"So… shouldn't you compensate me with a proper newbie gift pack now?" Lin Fan asked eagerly, still bitter about not receiving one earlier.
[This system is a dignified, god-level system. After verification, no error was found.]
"Six! Absolute six!" Lin Fan groaned, holding his head.
The system had indeed become a little smarter… but not by much.
Still, with its tasks guiding him and clear goals for strength advancement, Lin Fan was filled with determination.
The evolution from the Slaughter God Domain into the Asura God Domain—that was a qualitative leap.
Thus, Lin Fan signed up at the Hell Arena every single day.
Day after day, he killed on the stage, each battle filling his body with thicker killing intent and bloodlust, gradually condensing into something almost tangible.
One Year Later.
Lin Fan had fought eighty matches—and of course, eighty victories. This was his record at the Hell Arena.
By all logic, a full year had passed—365 days. With Lin Fan's persistence, he should have long completed a hundred victories.
But the reality was different.
The more he won, the fewer dared to face him. Days—sometimes ten or more—would pass before enough people could be gathered for a match. The arena even had to conceal his entry time in advance to avoid scaring participants away.
By now, Lin Fan's name had spread throughout the entire City of Slaughter. He was no longer called by his number—he was feared as the "Demon King."
Apart from the Slaughter King himself, no one dared provoke him.
Normally, after a year here, anyone's aura would be tainted with bloodlust. Their very presence would radiate cruelty, coldness, and a thirst for slaughter.
But Lin Fan was different.
Thanks to the music he'd learned from Tang Yuehua, he had a way to cleanse his spirit.
Every half month, the sound of a konghou (harp) would float from the third floor where he lived, calming even the restless hearts of the City of Slaughter.
So, while he killed on stage, off stage he played music—purifying his mind and keeping his clarity intact.
Meanwhile…
In a vast, shadowy chamber deep within the City of Slaughter—
A colossal chair stood, inlaid with blue and purple crystals, shaped like an ancient drum tower. Everything else in the chamber was stained in blood-red hues.
"The Demon King has won again."
A cold female voice broke the silence.
The black-veiled maiden knelt respectfully before the throne.
"I know."
A tall figure sat upon the great chair. His appearance was obscured in darkness, but his lean and towering silhouette radiated an oppressive presence.
"Great King," the maiden pressed on cautiously, "he's been in the City of Slaughter for a year now. Shouldn't we begin to… approach him?"
"It has been a long time since a true powerhouse entered our city."
The Slaughter King was silent for a moment before replying coldly:
"No need to approach him."
"Why?" the maiden asked, confused. "Great King, do you not wish for our City of Slaughter to grow stronger? Although we agreed with Spirit Hall a thousand years ago, who knows when they might tear it up?"
"They have no time for us right now," the King replied, his voice icy. "And even if they did, I do not fear them. They dare not dispatch large forces here."
The maiden grew more urgent. "But Great King, the Demon King already has eighty consecutive victories! With his strength, he could pass the Hell Road and become a Slaughter God! Each Slaughter God's emergence brings a disaster upon our city—our prophecy wall itself warns us: When a Slaughter God descends, the City of Slaughter bleeds."
"Every previous Slaughter God caused immense damage to us. If it happens again this time, I fear—"
"Enough." The King's voice rumbled, deep and menacing. "I've considered that possibility. But you've seen his state this past year—our city's aura cannot erode him. Aside from a sharper killing edge, he is the same as when he first arrived."
"Every Titled Douluo has unshakable will. If their will were weak, they could never become Titled Douluo."
"So… do you still believe he can become one of us? That he can serve the City of Slaughter?"
The maiden hesitated, then ventured carefully: "Great King… what if instead, we cut off the problem at its root? Eliminate him before he—"
Before she could finish, the King's eyes flared—two blood-red beams shot forth, filling the chamber with suffocating pressure.
The air thickened like coagulated blood. The maiden shrieked, collapsing to the ground, her body trembling violently.
"Do not think that because I favor you, you may speak recklessly!" The King's voice roared like thunder. "How do you know whether he is accompanied by a former Slaughter God? Otherwise, why would a Titled Douluo risk entering this place?"
"Slaughter Gods may return to the City of Slaughter at any time. The rules of our city and the Hell Arena cannot be broken by our own hands."
"If he truly is backed by a Slaughter God, and word of our betrayal spreads… that would be the real disaster. For in the Slaughter God Domain, any spirit master may use spirit abilities freely."
The blood-red glow faded, though his voice remained cold as ice.
"Besides… from my observation, this Demon King is no ordinary Titled Douluo. His physical body is extraordinary—this is why I have allowed him to exist for a year."
The blood-colored gaze lingered in the air, like a warning.
The Slaughter King's decree was final.
At that very moment, outside the City of Slaughter's outer gates, two breathtakingly beautiful women appeared.