Die, Replay, Repeat

"One million… Argh!" Lu Ziming's desperate scream was abruptly silenced by a deafening crunch.

In that instant, his skull collided with the dirt, distorting his face and bones until they were unrecognizable.

The world around him fell into eerie silence, his body lying lifeless.

Yang Ming stared at the mangled corpse for a moment before spitting disdainfully onto the lifeless remains. "You just had to go out like that? Way too easy on you."

But just as those words escaped his lips, something bizarre happened.

Lu Ziming's body exploded into fragments like a fragile bubble, scattering into pieces before reforming into a puppet.

"A puppet?" Yang Ming's eyes widened, his expression darkening instantly.

Without warning, the ground erupted a hundred meters away in a thunderous explosion, sending debris flying. From the chaos, Lu Ziming's battered form sprang into motion, fleeing without a second thought.

Yang Ming's fury flared. "Not so fast!"

He gave chase, but no matter how fast he pushed himself, he was no match for a fifth-tier powerhouse focused solely on escaping.

Within two seconds, Lu Ziming vanished, swallowed up by the vast expanse of the Specters.

Grinding his teeth in frustration, Yang Ming growled, his anger rising. "Xiu, can you track his position?"

Fang Xiu, however, remained unfazed. "No need to rush. He's too weak to bother with."

Fang Xiu took a few measured steps toward the puppet that had replaced Lu Ziming's body. He instantly recognized it—another substitute doll, just like the one Wei Xin had used earlier.

It all clicked. Lu Ziming's frantic yell about the million made sense now. With his obsession with wealth, it was obvious the money referred to the cost of the puppet.

But Fang Xiu wasn't concerned. After all, he'd just taken down a fifth-tier powerhouse on his very first day in The Land Between. At this rate, a few more days and he wouldn't even give Lu Ziming a second thought.

In fact, today was probably the weakest Fang Xiu would ever experience in the Land Between.

Still brimming with rage, Yang Ming slammed his foot into the ground. "I'm going after Wei Xin!"

With Lu Ziming having gotten away, Yang Ming had no outlet for his anger, and now it was Wei Xin who was going to bear the brunt of it.

Meanwhile, Wei Xin, having seen his leader escape, was already planning his own getaway. But with his zombie body offering no real advantages aside from its immortality, he didn't have many options left.

Surrounded by Luo Qingxin, Li Xiaoru, and Xiong Tianguang, Wei Xin quickly realized he was trapped.

As he spotted Yang Ming charging at him, shrouded in golden light, a cold wave of fear crashed over him. He knew if he didn't act fast, it would be the end for him.

Unlike Lu Ziming, Wei Xin didn't have the luxury of affording another puppet to save him.

His eyes darted around, searching for a way out, and finally landed on the woman nearby. His face twisted into a look of malice.

With a low growl, he surged forward, using his inhuman strength to bat aside attacks from every direction. His movements were chaotic, filled with desperation, and with a swift motion, he lunged at the woman, locking onto her with a grip.

"Stay back!" he hissed, like a cornered animal. His fingers stretched into long, black, spiky claws, which dug into the woman's throat with a sickening force.

Her skin split open, blood pouring as Wei Xin greedily drank it in, his breath ragged and desperate.

Yang Ming and the others could only watch in stunned silence, their rage palpable but their hands tied. The situation had shifted—Wei Xin now had the upper hand.

"Don't get any closer unless you want to see her dead!" Wei Xin sneered, his eyes gleaming with crazed triumph. "You've got that soft heart, don't you? I'm sure you don't want to watch her die."

"You monster! Let her go!" Yang Ming's roar was filled with fury.

"Let her go?" Wei Xin's grin widened into something twisted. "I'll let her go, sure. If you let me go."

He leaned in closer, his fetid breath filling the air. "After all, she's just a little prize for me. And you wouldn't want to see her die, would you?"

Before he could finish his taunt, however, Fang Xiu stepped forward without a word, his movements measured and calm.

Clack, clack, clack. The sound of his footsteps cut through the heavy air.

Wei Xin's eyes widened in alarm, and fear spread across his face. "You… stay back! If you take another step, I swear I'll kill her! Do you hear me? I'll do it!"

Fang Xiu didn't hesitate. His black flames swirled around him, crackling ominously as his cold, unwavering gaze never left Wei Xin.

Fang Xiu's face remained as impassive as ever as he continued walking, his steps deliberate and calm. "Do you really think I care whether she lives or dies?"

"Bastard!" Wei Xin screamed, his rage boiling over. The black claws digging into the woman's throat tightened, piercing deeper until they reached the bone, drawing a trail of blood.

"Xiu!" Yang Ming's voice was frantic, his bloodshot eyes flashing with fury. He looked like he might explode at any second, his body trembling with the weight of his anger, almost desperate to stop Fang Xiu.

But Luo Qingxin, sensing Yang Ming's inner turmoil, reached out to hold him back. Her gaze was heavy with sorrow as she shook her head slowly. "Perhaps… death would be a mercy for her."

Yang Ming's fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, his face flushed with uncontrollable rage. His entire body was shaking with barely contained fury. He wanted to act, to do something, but he couldn't. It felt like everything was spiraling out of his control.

"One more step, and I'll kill her!" Wei Xin shouted again, his voice sharp with menace. But before he could even think of saying another word, Fang Xiu raised his hand.

In an instant, a brilliant flash of silver light streaked through the air—the Scalpel. It moved so fast, it seemed like the air itself had been sliced.

SWISH! The woman's body stiffened for a heartbeat, then crumpled to the ground, lifeless, like a marionette whose strings had been severed.

The suddenness of it stunned everyone in the clearing. No one had expected Fang Xiu to kill her so ruthlessly, so effortlessly.

Wei Xin, seeing the woman collapse in front of him, wasted no time. Without a second thought, he dropped her body and turned, running for his life, his feet pounding against the earth.

But no matter how fast he tried to escape, he was no match for the combined strength of the others.

Taotie, standing nearby, raised a massive hand and swung it down with little effort. Wei Xin was sent crashing to the ground with a brutal impact, creating a deep crater beneath him.

"Xiu, you—" Yang Ming's voice was filled with turmoil as he looked at the woman's lifeless form. A whirlwind of emotions—sorrow, confusion, and anger—raged within him.

Deep down, he knew that the woman's death might have been the only way to free her from the curse of being a zombie. She had been nothing more than a hollow shell of her former self, and living like that wasn't really living at all.

But Fang Xiu's cold indifference, the way he had ended her life so casually, left Yang Ming struggling to understand it.

The silence that followed was suffocating. After a long moment, Fang Xiu stepped forward, kneeling beside the woman's body. His gaze lingered on her pale face as she lay motionless, her breath slow and shallow.

Fang Xiu's hand reached out, and with it came an unexpected change.

Pain seemed to flow out from the woman's body, as if it was being absorbed into him. Her injuries, too, began to heal, the wounds knitting themselves back together.

Yang Ming watched in stunned silence, his heart racing with a flicker of hope. He rushed forward, his steps urgent, barely believing his eyes.

The woman's injuries slowly faded away, and Yang Ming could feel a surge of emotion in his chest. He glanced at her, then at Fang Xiu, his face flushed with a mixture of guilt and confusion. "Xiu, I…"

But before he could finish, something utterly unthinkable happened.

The woman, her eyes now clear for the first time since her transformation, reached for the Scalpel that had fallen to the ground.

With a sudden, swift motion, she drove it into her own throat.

THUD! The blade sank deep, and blood spurted from the wound, splashing across Yang Ming's face in a gruesome arc.

Fang Xiu, unfazed by the bloodshed, rose to his feet. His expression was unchanged, watching the chaotic scene unfold with eerie calmness.

The woman's face, even as life drained from her, held a strange peace—a deep, quiet relief—as though she had made the ultimate choice, one that freed her from the torment of her cursed existence.

In those final moments, clarity had returned to her, and she had chosen death over the hollow existence she had been enduring.

Yang Ming stood frozen, his body covered in the woman's blood, his eyes empty and distant. His mind was a storm of conflicting emotions, all centered around that final, peaceful expression on her face.

He stood there for what felt like an eternity, not knowing how to process the whirlwind of feelings that crashed through him.

Finally, with a slow exhale, Yang Ming clenched his fists once more and, without a word, turned and walked toward Wei Xin, who lay defeated in the dirt.

Translator's note: Why did the woman kill herself? She could've gone with Fang Xiu and the others.