Chapter 76: The Madness of Letting Up

“You little brat, you broke my precious Sea-Stirring Trident. I’ll have your life for this!”

The old turtle knelt on the floor, cradling his broken trident in utter despair. His eyes blazed red with fury, grief etched deep into every line of his face.

Clearly, his rage had reached its peak.

Yet throughout the entire ordeal, Li Changlu could only watch the old turtle’s one-man show like a fool, unable to utter a single word—yet somehow, he ended up shouldering the blame.

Such misfortune had fallen upon him from the sky, and there was no avoiding it.

Did this old turtle perhaps have a masochistic streak?

But then...

With that massive turtle shell of his...

He couldn’t be whipped, nor could a candle reach him, could he?

Li Changlu looked at the old turtle, who now radiated an aggressive aura, and rubbed his forehead, unable to help but sigh inwardly...

Why, why was every opponent he encountered always so...

Unique?

He was exhausted. Was it really so hard to have a normal, straightforward fight—a punch here, a kick there?

In the small building’s living room, the old turtle monster said nothing as he slowly set aside the broken trident. Rising to his feet, he glared at Li Changlu, fists clenched and body trembling as if gathering strength.

An unseen pressure filled the room, making Li Changlu uneasy.

But after a short moment, veins bulged on the old turtle’s neck, and the robe he wore suddenly burst apart.

Li Changlu jumped—wasn’t this the kind of scene you saw in every period drama? He never thought the real world could be so... faithful to art.

Art truly does imitate life.

Fortunately, the old turtle’s shell kept the scene from becoming indecent. Yet Li Changlu still saw his exposed limbs, which, under the old turtle’s furious roar, slowly grew more muscular.

He was becoming impressively strong.

Face flushed, neck thick with strain, the old turtle roared continuously, just like a character powering up for a final attack.

He roared...

And roared...

“What are you doing?”

The old turtle was straining with all his might, enduring and focused, intent on building up his ultimate move—only for Li Changlu, the little rascal before him, to hand him a roll of toilet paper for no apparent reason.

Seeing Li Changlu’s worried expression and the hand that lingered with half a roll of tissue, the old turtle was touched. Finally, somewhat reluctantly, he took the paper...

And wiped the sweat from his brow...

What a kind child.

Even in a fight, he worried for his opponent’s well-being...

“Thank you.”

After wiping his sweat, the old turtle resumed his stance, roaring and gathering power once again.

Li Changlu couldn’t help but think how much this resembled that moment in the bathroom—sitting on the toilet, phone in hand, scrolling through jokes while constipated.

Only those who’ve been there truly understand...

Only the afflicted can sympathize.

So...

Should he try cheering him on?

Come on, give it your all—don’t give up, you can do it, you can push it out.

But...

On second thought, perhaps not...

It was, after all, a rather awkward situation.

All he could do was hand him a roll of tissue...

...

“What are you doing now? Could you show a little respect for your opponent?” the old turtle monster snapped, glancing impatiently at Li Changlu—and at his phone, which was pointed at him.

“Sorry, your performance was just so impressive that I couldn’t help but want to record it and share it with my friends,” Li Changlu sheepishly pocketed his phone, scratched his head, and smiled at the turtle. “It’s really something. Please, carry on...”

The old turtle monster put his hands on his hips and stared at the ceiling, his composure unraveling completely.

He stood there for a long moment, unable to speak...

He only managed to cough up a bit of blood in his frustration...

“Uncle, weren’t you poisoned? How are you still holding on? Why not just succumb to the poison now? You’re really making this harder than it needs to be,” Li Changlu said.

Truth be told, all his antics had been calculated distractions—he was simply buying time, counting on the poison to finish the job. Who hasn’t seen a villain die to their own poison?

If the old turtle succumbed, Li Changlu would win without a fight—how satisfying would that be?

But after all this time, the old fellow seemed livelier than ever, even roaring at the top of his lungs...

Why not break into a public square dance while you’re at it?

Is this really how a poisoned man is supposed to behave?

Li Changlu couldn’t help himself anymore; even at the risk of exposing his intentions, he had to ask.

“Sigh, it’s all because I accidentally drank that cup of tea,” the old turtle said gloomily. “The poison in that tea is extremely potent—any normal person or demon would die at the slightest touch. Even with my unique constitution, I’m not immune to such poison.”

“So... how long before you actually die from it?” Li Changlu shamelessly pressed on.

“Roughly... three hundred and eighty-six days and five hours,” the old turtle answered with startling precision.

...

Are you kidding me?

A poison that kills instantly on contact, but takes over a year to be fatal?

Is this a joke?

And five hours? What kind of time-release poison is this?

Li Changlu was at a loss, staring speechlessly at the old turtle and shaking his head in disbelief.

His last hope was dashed...

“Come, let’s go again...” the old turtle immediately resumed his power-gathering stance, veins bulging, muscles swelling...

Yet again, the all-too-familiar scene...

Would it kill you to just get on with it? You’ve been charging up for ages, but never attack. It’s like that saying: I’ve already taken my pants off, and this is all you’re giving me?

Forget it. Never again. Not even if it kills him.

Li Changlu, exasperated, plopped down on the floor, surrendering to the helplessness—it was almost relaxing, not having to rack his brains anymore...

“Young man, prepare to die! Once I finish gathering my power, I’ll shatter your skull with a single punch!” The old turtle now looked every bit the muscle-bound demon, his once frail body swelling with strength as he roared.

Who in their right mind would want to play along with such a robust old man?

Li Changlu had truly given up.

“But really, don’t lose hope,” the old turtle added. “While I’m gathering power, I’m at my weakest. If someone were to stab the Yongquan acupoint at my vital spot with a knife, I’d be done for.”

He quickly covered his mouth, regret written all over his face.

Li Changlu stared at him, dumbfounded...

It was blatantly obvious he was throwing the fight.

Anyone could see it.

From the very start, the old man had been subtly signaling to Li Changlu, all but begging him to finish him off.

Li Changlu was no fool—he didn’t believe anyone could be so stupid as to ask another to kill them. Wouldn’t it be easier to just end it himself?

So, he’d stayed on guard, waiting for the poison to do its work and let the old man retreat without a fight.

But things had come to this—his opponent so blatantly inviting death, even pointing to his own foot as a hint.

Such an audacious plea for death could not be ignored—it was time to oblige.

So, Li Changlu drew the fruit knife from his belt—the one that had previously been turned into a painting and now restored to its original form.

Gripping the knife, he charged at the old turtle and stabbed directly at the spot beneath him.