Chapter 107: The Three Realms Storm DLC Is Loading

Although the Three Realms were finally complete, the Chronicle of the Three Realms could not yet be staged. After all, the Lord of the Nine Netherworlds had not returned to his position; his obsession ran deep, and he was still engaged in a fierce magical duel with the Lord of Demons.

However, the lost souls and wild spirits trapped within the “Nine Netherworlds” thrived as if they had returned home, their souls and bodies nourished by the ashes of the earth. Among them, some of these scattered, mist-like spirits, nurtured by the “Nine Netherworlds,” even showed signs of their souls beginning to take shape.

It could only be said that each land nurtures its own people. The “Nine Netherworlds” were filled with the bone dust of walking corpses, and these corpses had long been saturated by the dark, toxic energy of the primordial land, indistinguishable from it. This was highly beneficial to the lost souls and wild spirits.

The Ancestor Luo did not hasten the growth of the “Nine Netherworlds.” After all, he had no intention of hunting walking corpses daily, nor did he plan to increase the influx of the dark toxic energy. Accelerating it would not aid the expansion of the “Nine Netherworlds.”

The matter of the “Nine Netherworlds” could be taken slowly. The DLC for the Chronicle of the Three Realms—“Chronicle of the Nine Netherworlds”—was not urgent yet; for now, the mortal realm still needed to continue its version updates.

The mortal realm was meant to enter the era of the universal primordial spirit.

It could not remain stagnant in this Yang Spirit era.

Besides, the art of talismans was rapidly advancing. Two years had passed, and if there was still no progress, Ancestor Luo would have to whip the entire mortal realm forward.

To hasten the mortal realm’s entry into the primordial spirit era, Ancestor Luo had to send the various methods of achieving the primordial spirit he had devised into the mortal world. He needed to stimulate people’s thinking in this area first, inspiring the era’s elite to open the primordial spirit epoch.

Ancestor Luo’s first target was his subordinate, Gu.

Gu had recently developed a second Dharma-brain but had paid a heavy price: schizophrenia!

And the spirit that split was none other than Man Zun.

It was the Man Zun from his memories.

After the split, Gu disappeared from the martial world, going silent for a while. He returned home, becoming a wandering madman.

His reason for returning was a phrase Ancestor Luo once said: “The most dangerous place is the safest place.”

However, Gu’s self-talking appearance truly resembled that of a madman to the townsfolk. Coupled with his filthy, foul-smelling, ragged appearance—flies avoided him, his unkempt beard and hair matted like clumps of dirt, his face more like a mass of hair than skin, only his two bloodshot eyes showed any humanity—anyone who met his gaze knew he was no ordinary man.

Every day, he begged for food at the town chief’s tavern, the same place where he used to bring meals for Ancestor Luo.

Because he was strong, even if the tavern staff beat him or tried to chase him away, they could neither hurt nor move him. The owner eventually gave up, reluctantly offering a bowl of rice daily for his sustenance.

One fine day, when Ancestor Luo entered the tavern, he saw Gu begging for food inside.

“Chicken drumstick! Chicken drumstick!” Gu shouted, clutching a large wine jar in the hall.

The tavern’s patrons were unfazed, accustomed to this sight and even pointing and laughing.

“Bastard, go take a bath, and I’ll buy you a hundred chicken drumsticks,” a drunken guest teased.

“Bastard” had become the townsfolk’s affectionate nickname for Gu.

There was a local saying: “Tough-skinned bastard.”

Gu fit the description perfectly.

But he ignored the guest’s words and only asked the waiter for chicken drumsticks.

“Ah, chicken drumsticks won’t do. He needs to sing a few songs first,” another handsome drunk joked.

“Brother, you’re new around here, a hero from outside the town?” the first guest laughed.

The town had become famous because of Gu, attracting martial heroes daily. The townsfolk had long grown accustomed to this and no longer felt helpless.

They even joked with the visitors.

“That’s right. I came from the capital, also in search of Man Jun,” answered the visitor from outside.

Gu’s current street name was “Man Jun.”

“What song should we sing?” (Chicken drumstick! Chicken drumstick…)

“The Seven Sects Pursue Man Jun.”

“Isn’t that the old gentleman’s ballad?”

“The bastard definitely likes it.”

They exchanged words, but no one actually sang.

The townsfolk bore no grudge against Gu. He had never harmed them, and despite the commotion over the years, he brought some vitality to the otherwise isolated town, which now had a main road connected to the capital’s caravan route.

Thus, the townsfolk’s feelings were complex: not hatred, but not quite gratitude either.

“Bastard, bastard, ha ha ha,” Gu suddenly laughed.

The owner, holding his nose, handed him a chicken drumstick.

“Chicken drumstick! Chicken drumstick!”

“Go on, go on. I’ve told you the meals will be sent to the Martial God Temple. Don’t come to my shop anymore,” the owner said disgustedly, waving his hand.

“Heh heh heh, chicken drumstick! Chicken drumstick!” Gu bit into the drumstick, then turned to leave the tavern and return to his temporary home at the Martial God Temple.

But upon turning, he froze.

The chicken drumstick slipped from his hand and fell with a thud to the floor.

“Waaah, waaah,” he began to sob.

Finally, with a plop, he knelt before a man.

That man was none other than Ancestor Luo, who had just entered.

“Boss, waaah,” Gu tried to embrace Luo’s legs, wanting to pour out his troubles.

But thinking of his filthy, foul stench, he dared not get too close, fearing to taint his master’s eyes.

“Water, water, water,” Gu hurriedly stood and chased after the tavern owner.

“Bastard, what water do you want? Planning to take a bath?” the owner, startled, saw the tall, dirty Gu rushing over, dodged, and cursed.

“Yes, yes, water, water. Bring me water. The boss is back, the boss is back,” Gu said, glancing repeatedly at Ancestor Luo, confirming he was not hallucinating.

“Urgent, urgent. Ahem, go fetch a bucket of hot water for the bastard. It’s cold now; don’t give him well water. Don’t want him catching a cold and blaming me,” the owner grumbled but everyone knew he had a soft heart beneath his gruff words.

“Thank you, thank you,” Gu kept expressing gratitude.

“You fool, you’re not young anymore. Why do you look like this?” Ancestor Luo spoke.

Gu turned and knelt again. “Boss, you raised me, but I have betrayed your trust. From now on, I will care for you till the end.”

Hearing this, Ancestor Luo laughed. “Good boy, still cursing me to die, huh?”

Gu shook his head repeatedly. “Dare not, dare not.”

Those present sensed something was amiss.

This “bastard” was no ordinary man; his speech was coherent and deliberate.

“All right, let’s go back,” Luo said, patting Gu’s shoulder.

Tears brimmed in Gu’s eyes. “Yes, boss.”