No matter the plan, the most important thing is to prevent Tang San from coming into contact with the immortal herbs!
Otherwise, if he ruins them with just one Swan Kiss, where else could he go to find such a great place to improve himself?
Immortal herbs are rare treasures of the world and should be possessed by those with virtue.
Fang Ling had already endured hardship, weariness, hunger, and poverty, his fortune was due to change.
After imagining a brighter future, Fang Ling brought himself back to reality.
One should not aim too high. It's important to plan for the future while also staying grounded in the present.
Compared to the Slaughter City, the Great Soul Arena was much more manageable.
There, killing was done openly and without restrictions. As long as one was a soul master, they could enter and fight.
With money as an incentive, there would never be a shortage of life-and-death battles.
However, Fang Ling still needed to become at least a one-ring soul master before he could participate.
This was the problem.
If he relied solely on slow cultivation and a bit of progress each year, how long would it take to become a one-ring?
Did he really have to resort to killing?
But senseless slaughter was a dead-end road!
Even with his toes, Fang Ling could figure out that he couldn't level up faster than the rate at which the Spirit Hall captured people.
He washed his face with cold water, scrubbing off the dried and scabbed blood, hoping to clear his mind.
While scavenging the corpse for loot, Fang Ling pondered.
"Does it have to be humans, or does the act of killing itself count?"
"If it counts, what about killing rats? Insects? Soul beasts?"
"They're all life forms. Surely the system doesn't only recognize humans and look down on rats and soul beasts?"
He'd have to catch some rats and give it a try.
Realizing this key point, a smile crept onto Fang Ling's lips.
Then, his searching hand paused. He kicked the corpse on the ground.
His smiling face shifted slightly, and he spat before cursing, "Damn it, how are you so poor?"
The traps had been used up, and yet he found nothing.
The only remotely valuable piece of clothing had been stabbed through and was soaked with blood, completely ruined.
Although he had guessed that someone launching a sneak attack wouldn't carry much with them, it still left him very annoyed.
He didn't know where the old beggar lived, so there was no way to loot his stash.
Fang Ling recognized who the attacker was.
It was the same old beggar he had greeted earlier that day, one of the losers who had tried to contest his territory.
He had lived peacefully for half a year, and now in the middle of the night, someone dared to try and assassinate him.
Most likely, the old beggar saw the certificate in Fang Ling's hands and feared he would seek revenge after becoming a soul master.
This was a classic case of judging others by one's own villainous standards. Was Fang Ling really such a petty person?
Well... the old beggar guessed right, he was exactly that petty!
Everyone who had tried to take his turf before was no good. Who knows how many lives were on their hands? They were ruthless, and there was no reason to show mercy.
One by one, they would all be dealt with eventually.
Fang Ling bore grudges and always sought revenge.
He understood why the old beggar didn't come in through the main entrance and how he avoided so many traps.
The guy had been caught once before.
Last time, he entered through the main gate and fell into a trap, nearly beaten to death.
So this time, the old beggar was extra cautious. He didn't take the seemingly easy route of the ruined front door, he climbed the wall.
He was determined to kill Fang Ling.
Too bad, as careful as he was, Fang Ling was even more careful.
There were traps by the walls too.
They were specifically set up for wall climbers.
Even more unexpectedly, there were more traps hidden in the grass than the beggar had imagined.
There were traps in the trees as well, forming a three-dimensional trap formation.
If one triggered even a single trap and lost their balance in the pain, they'd fall into several others in quick succession.
After triggering multiple traps, the old beggar's death was well deserved.
Finding nothing of value, Fang Ling fought through the disgust and began dismembering the body.
He was still young and weak, so he couldn't drag the whole body or dig a large enough hole. He had to bury it piece by piece.
Although this was the first time he had killed a person in this life or the last, he had skinned plenty of rats as a beggar.
His hands were long since stained with blood, so he could handle it.
He worked through the night, and by dawn, the old beggar was finally buried.
Fang Ling yawned as drowsiness washed over him.
After a long night, the matter was finally dealt with.
Although there was no loot, the dagger was quite good.
Its streamlined blade and handle blended perfectly, and the blade was forged from top-grade steel.
After countless rounds of hammering and polishing, its surface showed a deep blue-gray hue.
It appeared to be soft steel wrapped around hard steel. The cutting edge was a silver-white, tough metal that reflected a faint cold gleam in the dark, like a chilling flash slicing through the night sky.
It even clashed with Fang Ling's scythe without sustaining damage.
No, more accurately, it was a blessing his scythe spirit wasn't damaged.
In any case, the blade was extraordinary. Fang Ling's night of effort had paid off.
No matter where the old beggar got it, it now belonged to him.
He sheathed the blade in a simple leather scabbard.
Fighting off sleep, Fang Ling stripped off his clothes.
His face was covered in blood, and of course, his clothes were no exception.
The blood wouldn't wash out, so they could serve as kindling instead.
He spent some time re-setting the traps, adding new ones for catching rats, then cleaned the blood from the grass pile. Finally, overwhelmed by sleep, he collapsed inside and drifted off.
By the time he woke up, it was already afternoon.
The setting sun cast a warm light.
His stomach growled with hunger.
After a simple meal of boiled meat, he went to check the rat traps.
He adjusted the tension on the old traps and set three new ones. Of all his traps, three had been triggered.
One caught nothing, another failed to hold its prey, and only one managed to trap a rat.
It was barely breathing.
But its faint chest movement told Fang Ling that the rat was still stubbornly clinging to life.
Afraid it might die too quickly, he immediately summoned his spirit.
A sharp scythe flashed, and the rat was instantly decapitated.
Crimson blood spurted from the wound. Compared to killing someone in the darkness, this felt a bit more brutal.
But Fang Ling had no time to dwell on it, his focus was entirely on the gray, semi-transparent progress bar before his eyes.
It moved!
It really increased!
Though the amount was pitiful, only one ten-thousandth.
Still, killing a rat had increased the progress bar. This confirmed that killing, not just killing people, worked.
And just like gaining soul rings, it had to be done by his own hands.
After all, over the past year, he had caught and eaten at least a hundred rats.
But to ensure they didn't escape, his traps were set to high power, so by the time he found them in the morning, they were already dead.
Now that he knew killing granted points, how could he speed this up?
If he were to rely on rats, he'd need to kill ten thousand…
Too stupid.
Not to mention whether there were even that many rats in Nuoding City, how long would it take to catch them all?
Judging from how the progress bar grew, body size or the amount of natural energy in the body must be key factors.
Killing soul masters was not an option.
To avoid being wanted and to escape the slow grind of rat-killing, he needed something big, easy to kill, and renewable to be his source of progress.
Like, a slaughterhouse.
Fang Ling's eyes lit up.
In a slaughterhouse, pigs, cows, and sheep were lined up and ready to be killed. One slash to the throat, much easier than killing people.
He might even earn some money on the side, easing his food expenses.
No slaughterhouse would ever lack meat. In the Douluo Continent, innards were often unwanted.
But he wanted them!
They were excellent sources of protein.
Fang Ling nodded to himself.
He happened to know someone who could help him get into a slaughterhouse,
That chubby butcher shop owner.
Fang Ling didn't want much, just for him to provide a way for a future battle soul master to enter the slaughterhouse. That wasn't too much to ask, was it?
If Tang San could forge metal after school, why couldn't he slaughter pigs?
The more he thought about it, the more excited he became. He wanted to rush over right away.
Unfortunately, it was already late, and the butcher shop had long closed.
Not knowing where the man lived, he'd have to wait until tomorrow.
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