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Chapter 752: Chapter 755: Tribulation

"Ah!"

The scream sent a shiver down everyone\'s spine.

The deadly flames that had surrounded Yang Chen abruptly peeled away from him like a swarm of locusts. In an instant, they redirected their course and shot toward Maokoujiki!

The fiery petals, glowing brightly, didn\'t give the female yokai any time to react before they engulfed her.

Her bright red kimono and its wearer were consumed by the yokai flames, turning to ash in an instant. What was meant to be a fatal attack on Yang Chen had instead become the executioner that claimed the life of the beautiful yokai.

Before anyone could process what had just happened, the flying head in the sky twisted in pain, blood streaming from its seven orifices.

Blood poured from the head as if it were being squeezed by some powerful force. The head was slowly crushed, its bones twisting and breaking until it was reduced to a small, fist-sized ball of flesh and bone that fell to the ground. The scene was more gruesome than the most horrifying horror movie anyone had ever seen.

What confused everyone even more was that Yang Chen had remained motionless the entire time, not lifting a finger. And yet, all of this had happened!

As the head was crushed, the body of the Flying Headman, like Araguro before him, dissolved into a cloud of grey ash, dispersing into the air, leaving not even a shred of clothing behind.

At this moment, the cluster of fireflies that had been burning brightly gradually coalesced into a human form—the form of Nurarihyon, who had just attempted an attack only to end up burning his own subordinates to death.

Nurarihyon leaned on his sword, spat out a mouthful of blood glowing with a golden hue, and gasped heavily as he stared intently at Yang Chen. "How did you do that? Just now, why couldn\'t I control myself?"

A glint of curiosity flashed in Yang Chen\'s eyes. "That yokai sword technique you used just now—was it fueled by burning the essence of your own yokai blood? Ah, no wonder it had such power. Unfortunately for you, you encountered me. Such methods don\'t pose a threat to me. They never have, and they never will."

"Even though I\'m defeated today, I won\'t be ashamed to face Yuki-onna in the underworld. But I still can\'t understand... Why couldn\'t I sense any energy fluctuations from you? How could you toy with us so easily?" Nurarihyon asked, his voice filled with bitterness.

Yang Chen clicked his tongue in mild frustration. "It\'s not that I don\'t want to tell you; it\'s just that I can\'t really explain it. Those who understand will know what I did. Those who don\'t... well, even if I told you, you wouldn\'t understand."

"Enough with the chatter! If you want to live, shoot him now!" Saideri, seeing that Nurarihyon and his men were completely defeated, gritted his teeth and decided to fight to the death.

The SEAL team members, finally snapping out of their shock, gathered their courage despite their fear. Having been tempered by the fires of the battlefield, they steeled themselves, raised their machine guns, and formed a semicircular formation, all aiming at Yang Chen\'s vital points.

"Fire!"

The large-caliber American machine guns roared, unleashing a barrage of bullets that turned the port into a warzone, filling the air with the deafening echo of metal on metal. The power of these concentrated bullets far exceeded that of some explosives!

Saideri and Stark, however, didn\'t hold out much hope. They knew by now that the information Blue Storm had received had been a ruse by Yang Chen.

If this man had been impervious to bullets in the past, how could these enhanced rounds possibly be effective?

But even a small victory would have been something. Yet, this volley of bullets became their worst nightmare.

The moment the bullets neared Yang Chen, just centimeters away from his body, they all disintegrated into metallic dust in mid-air!

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The crisp sounds of countless tiny explosions echoed in everyone\'s ears. It was the sound of bullets being pulverized by the air. Before these sounds even reached them, the bullets had already disappeared, the gunpowder within them never having a chance to ignite!

"How is this possible?"

This scene was far more terrifying than if the bullets had been deflected. How could hundreds, thousands of bullets, fired at close range with air density magnified thousands of times, all be ground to dust?

And yet, Yang Chen had done it effortlessly, without even batting an eye!

With no other options, Saideri and Stark turned red with fury, summoning every ounce of strength they had left. They leaped toward Yang Chen from opposite sides, ready to strike.

They knew escape was futile and would only lead to a quicker death. In such a desperate situation, calling for reinforcements would be no different from signing their own death warrants.

So, a final desperate attack was their only choice!

A flash of blue light flickered in Saideri\'s eyes as he stretched out his arms and clapped them together.

Instantly, countless air blades materialized around Yang Chen. These blades, formed by manipulating the atmosphere, created a powerful high-pressure vacuum that could crush and slice through steel as easily as paper!

Yang Chen glanced at the burly man, and in that instant, all the air blades shattered! They disintegrated before they could even pose a threat, dissipating into gentle breezes.

At that moment, Stark, the black man, closed in on Yang Chen, his fist glowing red-hot with a temperature that could dry out the air around it. He swung it straight at Yang Chen\'s face!

Yang Chen raised a hand to block the punch. Just as the searing fist was about to connect, it suddenly stopped, unable to move any closer!

"Interesting. No wonder you can withstand such temperatures that could melt iron. Your hand is made of an alloy," Yang Chen remarked with interest, his eyes fixed on Stark\'s fist.

Stark stared in shock, his mouth agape, unable to utter a single word.

The searing heat of his fist vanished in an instant, the temperature plummeting, leaving only a harmless, charred fist behind!

"I\'m in a hurry. I need to have a word with your boss, so I won\'t play with you any longer."

Yang Chen smiled pleasantly, withdrew his hand, turned around, and walked away in the direction he had come.

As Yang Chen walked away, his figure gradually became indistinct, as if he were a shadow melting into the darkness, or a few drops of water falling into a vast lake, causing only the slightest ripple before disappearing completely.

None of the people present—Saideri, Stark, the exhausted Nurarihyon, or the SEAL team members—could react. A gust of sea breeze swept through the port, and the once chaotic scene fell into an eerie stillness. They all seemed to freeze in place, like statues, and then, just as the yokai Araguro and the Flying Headman before them, they began to dissolve into dust, scattered by the wind into the boundless sea and sky, leaving no trace behind.

It was as if it had all been a fleeting dream, coming and going so quickly.

Yang Chen, the one responsible for the demise of these dozens of lives, felt little emotion about it. These people were merely the casualties of Robert Mueller\'s greed. Yang Chen had suspected that Mueller had something up his sleeve when he insisted on keeping him around for a few days, but he hadn\'t anticipated that Mueller would try to strike against him after hearing from Poseidon that Yang Chen had lost his cultivation.

Unfortunately for Mueller, the moment he entertained that thought, his fate was sealed.

As for his current state of cultivation, Yang Chen himself wasn\'t entirely sure what to make of it. After enduring the Supreme Qing Divine Thunder Tribulation, the true essence within him had dissipated completely, and the Wang Nian Derivative Sutra had transformed into an unknown form. Yang Chen didn\'t know where it had gone, but he was certain that this mysterious technique still existed in a new, unprecedented, and elusive form.

Yang Chen remembered hearing from Abbess Yun Miao that this divine skill was an obscure technique created by a prodigy of Shushan a thousand years ago, who turned away from a path of bloodshed to forge it. Since ancient times, only a handful of disciples had ever mastered it, and Yang Chen was now supposedly the most advanced among them. Yet, Yang Chen found himself doubting that history.

The benefits brought by the Wang Nian Derivative Sutra far exceeded the scope of mere internal energy. Yang Chen speculated that perhaps the ancestor of Shushan had learned it from somewhere else and simply claimed it as his own creation.

Of course, this was all just conjecture.

Yang Chen only knew that unless he encountered an opponent who could truly match him, he might never fully understand his current level of cultivation. He couldn\'t explain it to others, and he himself was merely using these new abilities without fully comprehending them.

When Poseidon had come to bid him farewell, Yang Chen had considered asking him for a rematch to gauge his own strength. But in the end, he didn\'t bring it up, because he was convinced that Poseidon was no longer a worthy opponent.

It might sound absurd, but Yang Chen was certain that a fight with Poseidon would be entirely one-sided and meaningless, so he abandoned the idea.

After this Thunder Tribulation, Yang Chen felt a shift not only in his cultivation level, which he couldn\'t fully understand, but also in his mindset. He felt inexplicably lighter and more carefree, as if he could see things more clearly than before. Yet at the same time, he found himself more attached to certain things he had once been interested in, such as women, fine wine, and fast cars. This was why, upon waking, he had been drawn to the young maid Sally, and later, had spent half a day in a passionate encounter with Xiao Zhiqing.

If he were to follow the common saying that attaining enlightenment leads to a heart free of desires, Yang Chen thought that he was instead becoming more like a "demon," indulging in worldly pleasures, enjoying the burn of alcohol down his throat. In short, he felt he was becoming more "worldly."

Yang Chen wasn\'t sure if this meant he had entered a Tribulation Phase, but he was certain that he was undergoing a form of "tribulation"—not a Thunder Tribulation, but a "life tribulation." Perhaps one day, when he reached some distant point, he would look back on all of this and say, "Oh, so that\'s how it was."

When Yang Chen reappeared, it was on the second-floor balcony of Christine\'s mansion, his body materializing from the air, gradually becoming clear.

He cast a casual glance at the beautiful, silk-veiled night sky, then turned and walked back into the house. Whatever Robert Mueller\'s reaction was at this moment, Yang Chen decided it could wait until after dinner—he was starving.

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