My Post-Apocalyptic Shelter Levels Up Infinitely! Chapter 987: Disaster Pattern, Terrifying Haill l

The Daliang Kingdom had seen six emperors reign, and the current Emperor Xuande was in his twenty-fifth year.

Whispers told of a celestial fire descending during Emperor Taizu’s final battle against the old dynasty’s remnants, eradicating them overnight.

Now, Daliang’s national might was on the rise.

Emperor Xuande, known for his upright governance, had established the Xuanwu Guards to keep tabs on the world’s martial artists.

In Yangzhou, specifically Zhang County City, Liancang City.

Snowflakes danced with the biting northern wind, stinging the faces of hurried passersby.

A few soldiers, clad in padded jackets, idly leaned against the city gate, their voices rough as they hailed the incoming crowds.

“Curfew’s nearing. If you’ve coin, find an inn. If not, be off with you to that side.”

The majority entering via the east gate were from poorer households, with little silver to spare.

After collecting their meager fees, the indolent guards shooed the entrants away like bothersome flies.

Beyond the east gate lay the district the soldiers had cryptically referred to as the slums.

Su Mo, his appearance that of a weathered old man with a tattered coat and a face smudged with grime, seemed to fit the description of a destitute soul.

The soldiers, casting a cursory glance, naturally mistook him for a refugee from the county seat and directed him towards the so-called slums.

It was the dead of winter, and few realized it had been over three months since his arrival in this world.

After a brief inspection of the notices plastered on the city gate, Su Mo calmly proceeded inward.

As Su Mo's form vanished into the swirling snow, a white paper notice, caught by the chill breeze, fluttered from the gate and landed on the ground.

The lead soldier grumbled about bad luck, spitting on the notice's backside, further soiling it.

He then gathered the crumpled paper, re-affixed the boldly written sheet, and returned to his post with his men.

“Sir, was that a wanted fugitive? The fellow who just passed bore a slight resemblance,” a timid, simply-faced man inquired.

“Bah, like we don’t see countless notorious thugs every day. Take the demon-slayer Su Mo, for example. They say those he killed suffered ruptured meridians and shattered hearts – a truly gruesome spectacle,” the commander scoffed.

“Originally offered at 30 taels of silver, this scoundrel has been on the run, committing mayhem everywhere. Now, he’s a demon with a 500 tael bounty, possessing the strength of peak Ming Jin. What business would such a vicious killer have among you wretched folk, entering the city?”

As he spoke, the commander noticed more people crowding the gate, drawn by the tale. With a curt gesture, he ordered his subordinates to disperse them with kicks and cuffs, sending the onlookers scrambling for safety.

Unaware of the conversation behind him, Su Mo hastened into the city. After a satisfying meal at an inn, he requested a room to rest.

He operated under the principle that the most perilous places often offered the greatest security.

Su Mo, a man who lived life on the edge, had evaded capture not solely due to his peak Ming Jin cultivation, but also his sheer audacity.

The inn they frequented that day was barely two hundred steps from the magistrate’s office, and from his room’s window, one could plainly observe officials coming and going.

It was inconceivable to the authorities that such a notorious criminal would be residing so close by.

Name: Su Mo

Age: 68

Cultivation: Peak Ming Jin (Qi and blood in decline)

[Technique: Level 1 Vajra Palm, Level 1 Verdure Glider, Level 1 Vajra Force]

Activating his Profound Insight, Su Mo nodded with contentment.

Upon his transmigration to this world, he had observed that while immortal cultivators were absent, their martial arts had advanced far beyond his previous world.

Legends even spoke of martial artists at the apex of the Transcendent State who had nearly ripped the void asunder to ascend.

Despite an eight-hundred-year temporal disparity, he never forgot the imminent peril looming over his original world.

Should he fail to make significant progress within a year, his return would spell certain doom.

The world had changed, and with it, language itself. Fortunately, his Insight ability allowed him to grasp the meaning behind the words. In a world where culture was less developed, language wasn't overly complicated.

Within a single month, basic communication became second nature.

For the subsequent two months, he visited various large martial arts centers, hoping to acquire techniques by seeking guidance.

Aside from his physical body's Cultivation reaching the peak of Bright Jin, his martial arts skills from his previous life were exceptionally poor. It was no wonder Profound Insight had overlooked him.

Regrettably, no martial arts school was willing to accept a 68-year-old man as a disciple and impart their martial arts to him.

With no other recourse, Su Mo decided to disregard the unwritten rules of the martial world and resort to stealing cultivation techniques under the cover of night.

In this current world, time was becoming an increasingly precious commodity. Given Su Mo's existing skills and strength, he could easily employ indirect methods to achieve his goal and obtain the secret manuals.

For instance, he could have subdued the martial artist who inherited the Vajra Palm. Furthermore, there were the two hall masters who served under him; there were at least hundreds of ways he could have pressured them into handing over the secret manuals.

“However, I do not wish to take that path…” Su Mo sighed internally.

Time was of the essence, and any delay meant escalating danger. He was no stranger to the martial world and understood the necessity of making difficult choices.

His martial arts were improving, and the current him could thoroughly overwhelm his past peak self. Yet, what mattered most right now was finding a way to escape his perilous predicament.

The night passed in silence. The following morning, after once again smearing coal dust onto his face, Su Mo scaled the back wall of the inn and disappeared into the darkness.