The Great Disaster of Breaking Through the Gate

Wu Xian carefully assessed the effects of the longevity peaches.

This stuff could probably restore a person on the brink of death back to full health. Even if two people shared it and split the effect, the healing power was still astonishing.

After Shi Ji recovered, he looked at Wu Xian with deep gratitude.

"Brother Xian, thank you for saving my life. I won't bother with formalities—if you ever need me for anything in the future, I won't refuse."

Shi Ji spoke sincerely.

He knew very well that if it weren't for Wu Xian, he wouldn't have survived this ordeal.

"Don't thank me just yet," Wu Xian waved his hand. "Have you noticed? The healing has stopped. Our bodies are starting to deteriorate again."

Shi Ji paused, immediately feeling a dull ache returning to his gums.

Wu Xian glanced around.

The flesh and entrails nearby writhed continuously; the hanging skin twitched and convulsed; everywhere, grotesque noses and mouths kept opening and closing. The air was thick with a nauseating stench.

His expression darkened instantly. "We have to get out of here."

Shi Ji was stunned. "Why? It's not dawn yet. If we go out now, we'll probably run into those evil spirits."

Wu Xian pointed around.

"Don't you see? Everything around us is alive."

"Even if the Five Filth Gods are dead, this corrupted environment keeps eroding us. We're basically trapped inside its belly."

"If we wait here until dawn, the only possible outcome is that this warped room will digest us, turning us into part of that malformed flesh."

Shi Ji's heart tightened.

He looked at the door, still untouched by the corruption, and felt a deep sense of despair.

Inside that door lay a den of flesh and demons, but outside was a dragon's lair and a tiger's den. The experiences of the past few days had proven that rooms with doors were sanctuaries; leaving at night was a death sentence.

Yet, Wu Xian's reasoning was sound.

Between possible death and certain death, they only had one choice left.

Shi Ji nodded, deciding to trust Wu Xian.

Wu Xian gave a small smile. "Then let's prepare. The sooner, the better."

The two quickly packed their things and stood at the doorway, ready to peer through the peephole and find a safe moment to escape.

But the terrifying corrupted room sensed their intention to flee.

The once dormant chamber awoke, all the flesh began trembling and writhing like a giant closing meat sack — skin, mouths, intestines…

These grotesque abominations lunged toward Wu Xian and Shi Ji at the door.

Wu Xian cursed under his breath.

He jabbed fiercely at the creatures with his copper coin spear. The spear's effect was impressive—each strike pushed back some of the flesh—but against the massive heap, it was like a drop in the ocean.

"This won't do. Open the door immediately! I refuse to believe our luck is so bad that we'd run straight into the Great Disaster of Breaking Through the Gate."

Shi Ji opened the door at once, and the two retreated. The twisted flesh did not pursue them outside.

Beyond the door lay a dark, eerie corridor. The floor was stained with dried mud and blood, and the ceiling lights flickered nervously.

Under the flickering light appeared a sturdy man's face.

Qi Zhiyong.

Shi Ji's face instantly paled. Wu Xian's temples twitched uncontrollably. What terrified them wasn't Qi Zhiyong himself, but the figure behind him.

A terrifying silhouette was slowly approaching.

"Damn! We actually ran into it!"

...

The clock hands moved forward.

Room 406.

Qi Zhiyong sat cross-legged under the moonlight, holding a thin hemp rope. At the other end was a weight, suspended motionless at a perfect right angle to the rope.

Qi Zhiyong whispered to the rope, "With the tools I now possess, I can kill the Great Disaster of Breaking Through the Gate."

The rope remained still. Qi Zhiyong frowned and continued.

"This blessed place will last for more than five days."

Still no movement from the rope.

Qi Zhiyong took a deep breath and spoke his final sentence.

"The Great Disaster of Breaking Through the Gate can only kill one person each night."

The rope swayed slightly, the weight swung on its own, and a faint smile appeared on Qi Zhiyong's face as a talisman spontaneously ignited.

That burning talisman was a divination charm.

Using it allowed one to perform a divination. The results varied depending on the method. Qi Zhiyong used a divination technique common within their organization.

The Rope Pendulum Method.

Legend had it this method originated from the old Hezhe tribe, where a small mallet was tied to a rope. By holding the rope steady and asking three questions, if the rope swayed after a question, it meant the answer was true.

Qi Zhiyong had just asked three questions and received three very valuable pieces of information:

The Great Disaster of Breaking Through the Gate was extremely powerful; confronting it head-on was certain death.

This blessed place would end within five days.

And the evil spirit could only kill one person each night.

With these three pieces of information, plus the fact that tonight he was staying in an unmarked room—meaning no attack from the Great Disaster—the odds of Qi Zhiyong's survival had greatly improved.

This eased Qi Zhiyong somewhat.

The Blessed Land was merciless and cruel, offering no hope. People were as insignificant as grass, and the evil spirits delighted in cutting them down like weeds. The only difference between the chosen and ordinary people was that the chosen lived a little longer.

He had once been plagued by doubt.

If the Blessed Land was so dreadful, and all participants were destined to die sooner or later, then what was the point of struggling at all? Rather than suffer and be tormented to death by evil spirits, wouldn't it be better to end it early by one's own hand?

After joining the organization, he had asked Jing Ke this very question:

What is the meaning of our struggle here in the Blessed Land?

Qi Zhiyong murmured to himself, "Jing Ke said... to live is the meaning..."

Bang!

A deafening crash shattered Qi Zhiyong's thoughts.

His face drained of color. He snapped his head around just in time to see the door had been broken down, splinters piercing toward his face.

Beneath the dim yellow light outside, a towering figure stood like an iron tower. Its massive frame, terrifying visage, and overwhelming presence—like a natural predator—made Qi Zhiyong sweat profusely.

"The Great Disaster of Breaking Through the Gate!"

"This is impossible!"

"This room was never marked! Why… why has it come for me tonight?"

His scalp tingled with dread.

He immediately realized their previous conclusions were flawed.

But now was no time to dwell on details.

Survival had to be the top priority.

Escape through the window?

He was on the fourth floor, and heaven only knew what monsters lurked in the dark streets below.

Fight it?

No chance—not a single one. The divination had made it clear: even using every means at his disposal, he was no match for this monstrous disaster.

Try to communicate? Surrender? Bribe?

Qi Zhiyong considered every possibility.

In the end, only one plan seemed viable.

That was to divert the disaster's wrath elsewhere.

Since the Great Disaster could only kill one person each night, as long as Qi Zhiyong forced it to break down other doors and kill those of lesser value, he could slip through this calamity alive. 

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