Su Mo hesitated for a moment before walking slowly into the water dungeon. This treatment was a world apart from his experience a millennium ago. At least back then, they had only detained him; they never imprisoned him in a dungeon submerged in water. The structure of this dungeon was strikingly similar to the one in Fengdu, with a slanted design that required walking for a distance before reaching the watery section.
The cultivator who had brought him thought for a moment before leaving a bottle of healing medicine on the ground.
“Thank you, Senior Brother.” Su Mo looked at the medicine with surprise and offered his thanks.
“Do not thank me. Just consider it payment for ridding the people of a scourge. Thank you for killing those two!” The cultivator finished his sentence in a lowered voice before waving his hand and leaving.
Su Mo was stunned once again. He wanted to say that he had not killed that local young master the previous night, but the man was already gone, leaving him no chance to explain. Sighing, he picked up the medicine and began to treat his wounds.
His mind remained a chaotic jumble. He could not understand why he had failed to leave, why Little Eight had not erased him, or what had happened during this millennium. What was the status of the others? And who had actually killed the arrogant young master who had bullied him the night before? It was all so tangled, a mess of knots he could not undo. Su Mo let out a heavy sigh.
“Cough, cough.”
A sudden, abrupt coughing fit broke the silence. Su Mo startled and looked toward the depths of the water dungeon. In the murky water, a man whose features were obscured was chained to the wall by his shoulder blades. His lower body was completely submerged in the cold groundwater, and his torso was bare, covered in striking whip marks that had torn his skin to ribbons. His long, disheveled hair hung down to cover his face; he looked wretched, like a madman.
Water dungeons were typically used for high security prisoners. Why was this man locked away here? Was he a member of the sect? Had he committed a grave crime that warranted such severe punishment? Su Mo did not know if the man was truly a wicked person, and since he did not want to let his sympathy get the better of him, he turned his attention back to himself.
Why could he not feel any pain? Was this a reward from Little Eight for completing the mission? But if the world line had completely collapsed, how could there be a reward? Why was he reborn, and why specifically in the body of a fool? Was the fool still alive?
Unable to figure it out, Su Mo irritably raked his fingers through his short, mangled hair. Forget it. In this world where the strong reign supreme, cultivation is everything. He should just focus on his cultivation.
Because there was someone else present, he kept his guard up and chose not to use the Wen family’s secret technique to accelerate his training. Although he had quickly raised his cultivation to the Core Formation stage, his foundation had not yet fully stabilized. It would be better to solidify his realm before focusing on body refinement.
Having spent most of his life as a physical cultivator, he did not know how to cultivate in any other path. The reason he had been able to withstand the attacks of a Core Formation sword cultivator was not because his body possessed his former level of invincibility, but because he relied on the Heavenly Fiend Prison Suppressing Technique he had mastered in his previous life. This technique created a layer of Tiangang energy around his body in its early stages, allowing him to resist external harm while accumulating rage. It was that accumulated rage that had allowed him to kill the Nascent Soul cultivator in one strike!
Sitting cross legged on the ground, Su Mo began to circulate his energy, and a faint white glow began to suffuse his body.
“Su Mo, Su Mo.”
Because he was in deep meditation, he did not hear the murmurs of the imprisoned man. The man had already sensed his presence but had not paid him any heed. With hollow eyes, he hung his head and whispered his name over and over, his voice lonely and affectionate.
Time passed until a heaven shaking roar echoed through the air. Su Mo was startled and awakened from his meditation. The man chained to the wall began to struggle frantically as if he had lost his mind. While emitting low, painful groans, he cursed in a deep, raspy voice like a broken bellows: “Mo Siye, I am going to kill you. Ah, I am going to kill you.”
Clang, clang, ding, dang.
The heavy, ink black iron chains rattled discordantly with his movements. He struggled so violently that the wounds on his shoulder blades tore open again, and fresh, crimson blood seeped out in a shocking display.
Is that man a lunatic? Su Mo swallowed hard, his heart racing. When the man finally fell silent, he cautiously asked, “Hey, brother, are you alright?”
Total silence filled the room. Is he dead? Su Mo gulped, hesitating for a long time before deciding to investigate. He circulated his energy to protect himself and carefully stepped into the water.
“Hey, are you alright? Are you still alive?”
The man did not make a sound until Su Mo was close. He hesitated, then reached out a hand, attempting to check the man’s injuries. At that exact moment, the man snapped his head up, his eyes wide, and he snarled, attempting to bite Su Mo.
“Whoa!” Su Mo fell back into the water, staring in panic at the madman.
“Kill you, kill you, mine, it is mine.” The madman muttered to himself, acting as if Su Mo did not even exist. He did not look at him, but continued to stare into the void with hollow eyes. His face and body were covered in filthy mud and sludge that hid his true features, and his face was obscured by a thick beard, revealing only a pair of glowing, crimson eyes.
Has he undergone Qi Deviation? Su Mo swallowed hard, hesitated, and stood up from the water. He leaned toward the madman again, but the man remained unresponsive, his eyes vacant.
What a pitiful soul. Su Mo sighed inwardly. “I will treat your wounds. Since we are cellmates, I cannot just stand by and watch you die.”
Pulling the bottle of medicine from his robe, he slowly extended his hand. His warm skin touched the man’s bleeding wound. The madman flinched, instinctively trying to struggle.
“Do not move. I will not hurt you, be good.” Su Mo said in a low, steady voice that possessed a miraculous, calming power.
The madman slowly stopped struggling, his empty, red eyes gradually turning toward him. The two stared at each other in silence for a long time. Watched by those terrifying eyes, Su Mo felt the hairs on his neck stand up, but he forced his lips into a smile.
The madman’s lips moved, murmuring something. The sound was too faint for Su Mo to hear. Confirming the man would not struggle further, he took a deep breath, pinned the man’s shoulder with one hand, used his teeth to pull the cork from the medicine bottle, and quickly sprinkled the powder onto the wounds.
It must have been agonizing; the madman’s entire body trembled, yet he was very well behaved and did not struggle.
“Such a good boy, very well done.” Su Mo could not help but smile at his cooperation. He lowered his voice to praise him, then quickly tore a clean piece of fabric from his own robe and wrapped it around the bandaged wounds.
Almost as soon as he finished, the sound of rhythmic, orderly footsteps approached the corridor. Su Mo frowned, released the man, and quickly retreated to his spot.
“Do not go, do not go, I will be good, Momo.” As he moved away, the madman muttered, instinctively beginning to struggle again.
“Do not move, behave!” Su Mo warned, walking away without hesitation.
“Yes, I will be good, I will behave, I will not move.” The madman dared not move. Those crimson eyes watched him unblinkingly, muttering in a repetitive, rhythmic tone.