Chapter Two: The Mortal Body Becomes Sacred, Impervious to Blades and Spears, Dwelling in the World

Two gleaming cold flashes—two sharp daggers!

The Double-Dragon Snatching Pearl move!

Swift, precise, ruthless!

The strikes were decisive and silent, like a fierce tiger pouncing on a rabbit, or a venomous snake swallowing a toad.

This was not something an ordinary person could accomplish; it was the work of a true combat expert, skilled in dagger fighting!

Right from the start, the aim was to blind the opponent’s eyes rather than pierce the throat, clearly intending to capture Yi Beidou alive.

Emerging from the well, he was immediately met with the Double-Dragon Snatching Pearl—there was no room to dodge in such a cramped space!

Yet Yi Beidou made no move to evade. Just as the daggers were about to pierce his eyeballs, he executed an unbelievable countermeasure.

He lowered his head, stretching his neck slightly forward, and shockingly, he used his forehead to meet the two incoming blades.

The frontal bone is among the hardest in the entire skeleton; the so-called “Iron Head Skill” trains precisely this bone.

But even masters of the Iron Head Skill are unheard of daring to meet a combat expert’s dagger thrust with their forehead.

Flesh is no match for steel; the body is no match for technology.

Yet, an incredible scene unfolded.

Clang!

The two daggers struck Yi Beidou’s forehead head-on, producing a sound like metal striking metal. His seemingly casual neck thrust unleashed a terrifying burst of force, combining with the attackers’ power.

Crack!

Both daggers snapped in half at the blade’s midpoint, the violent impact sending numbness through the assailants’ hands.

Clatter!

The black-clad man staggered back two steps. Towering and muscular, his thick palms and knuckles resembled those of a wild bull, seemingly inexhaustible in power.

He was a professional; wielding daggers, dozens of ordinary men were like chicks before him—sometimes he didn’t even need to strike, just glaring was enough to instill fear.

Yet now, staring into the calm eyes emerging from the basement entrance, his body trembled uncontrollably, his expression as if he had seen a ghost.

“Invulnerable to blades and guns?! A body made saintly?! Retreat! Retreat quickly!”

The black-clad giant hissed under his breath, turning to flee without hesitation.

It was as if they had encountered a specter!

They had merely followed the organization’s clues to this “Wandering Immortal” hideout, barely having searched the house when they heard noise from below.

They had hoped to seize a “tongue” for intelligence, but who would have imagined that a living, saintly “Arhat in the World” would crawl out of this basement?!

Such a being was reborn anew—truly a living legend beyond ordinary understanding.

Behind Yi Beidou were two others, also wielding daggers, ready to assist in subduing him. Witnessing this, they were chilled to the bone and turned to flee.

Yet just as the leader in black turned, a sharp whoosh sounded, an oppressive force like a mountain descended upon him from behind.

Snap!

Before he could react, he felt a massive hand seize his head.

Suddenly feeling weightless, the palm lifted the eighty-kilogram man into the air.

Then—

His head was slammed forcefully down onto the hard ground.

Boom!

The ground trembled. The black-clad man’s face looked as if it had exploded in a burst of pigment, his blood smeared all over, his pupils dilated and unfocused.

Yi Beidou released his grip, his figure flickering like a phantom in the darkness. The remaining two had just reached the window when Yi Beidou grabbed each by the neck with one hand, like pinching chicks.

He hoisted their bodies and slammed them onto the windowsill.

Bang!

Both immediately rolled their eyes back.

Yi Beidou did not finish them off—he wanted to understand why they had come.

Before mastering the Freedom Heart Technique, it was impossible for him to make enemies of such desperados.

The only reason could be his master.

“Hm?”

Yi Beidou’s expression tightened slightly. He noticed fresh blood flowing from the ears of the two men he held. Their life force was rapidly fading, soon vanishing entirely, their bodies going limp.

Dead?

He checked their pulses—completely absent.

He ought not to have killed them.

Dropping the bodies, Yi Beidou moved to the leader’s side, crouching to examine him. The man’s ears also bled, and his life force was utterly gone.

“Suicide assassins?”

Yi Beidou realized they must have carried special methods that triggered instant death upon certain conditions.

Ignoring the three corpses, he searched the villa and found evidence of ransacking in several rooms.

“Looks like they really came for my master.”

Yi Beidou took off his backpack and powered up his phone. Numerous missed calls and messages popped up.

Ignoring all from the contact “Xu Zifu,” who appeared most frequently, Yi Beidou found an anonymous message.

It was a string of meaningless gibberish.

Yet upon seeing it, his expression changed—this was the communication code between him and his master, Hong Datong.

He opened his laptop and logged into an encrypted website. After inputting the gibberish, an encrypted email arrived.

It was sent six days ago.

“Beidou, two days ago, I suddenly felt a premonition, and seeing your northern light flickering unsteadily, I knew your seven stars were eliminated, and that my doom was inevitable. When you read this, I will no longer be among the living. Fate is fate; you need not dwell on it nor seek explanations.”

“Each person has their own path. This is a grand and turbulent era; humanity’s destiny is reaching a new turning point. You were born a demon but have subdued your demonic nature and attained freedom—rare throughout eternity. To move Mount Tai, Yi Beidou, perhaps you will become a guide for this new age. Your path must be explored by yourself. I do not wish to interfere further; I am but an antique who should be forgotten by history.”

“However, we are master and disciple, bound by fate. My affairs will surely affect you. From now on, be wary of the Pioneer Group. Before you reach the next level, do not confront them head-on.”

“Lastly, I leave you a parting word:”

“A grand dream spanning a thousand autumns is ultimately empty; to live with life and soul intact is but one lifetime.”

Reading the email, Yi Beidou was stunned.

His knowledge of Master Hong Datong was limited—beyond the name, almost nothing was known, and meetings were rare.

After initially learning the Freedom Heart Technique and having his brain’s key acupoints opened during months of training, they had met fewer than ten times in the next twenty years.

Yet Hong Datong cared deeply, frequently communicating through encrypted emails and secretly aiding him.

For instance, this self-built house and its basement training ground were prepared by Hong Datong.

In Yi Beidou’s mind, Hong Datong was like an immortal.

Such a man declaring his passing in the letter was certainly no falsehood.

A wave of sorrow welled within Yi Beidou but was swiftly quelled; his turbulent emotions flattened like still water.

This was an instinctive act. Before mastering the Freedom Heart Technique, he must suppress all emotions; any great upheaval could trigger a demonic calamity, awakening the dark nature he restrained.

This had become a habit.

“Master, you should know there’s no way I would ignore this matter. The Pioneer Group?”

Yi Beidou murmured softly. He understood that Hong Datong’s death was surely linked with this organization, and the three fallen death warriors were likely connected as well.