Pay-to-Win Cultivation: I Get 10,000x Returns

Chapter 288: Your Stamina Is a Bit Disappointing

Zhang Xian looked at Taichu, whose body was wreathed in chaotic black mist, and spoke with cold indifference.

“Old man, look at you. You turned yourself into this half-ghost abomination just to kill me? Is it really worth it? Even if you succeed, your life is over.”

Taichu sneered viciously, his face twisting. “The future? Once you are dead, the five continents will naturally be within my grasp! At that time, who would dare utter a single syllable of dissent?”

With that, the evil aura around him surged violently, and he coiled his muscles to pounce.

“Right,” Zhang Xian deadpanned. He casually reached into his robe and pulled out a thick stack of talismans. “Anyway, I’m done playing tag with you.”

Taichu paused for a moment, then snorted with disdain. “Mere talismans? Trivial tricks. They won’t even touch the hem of my robe.”

Zhang Xian smiled, a shark-like glint in his eyes. “Oh, I forgot to give you a little tutorial. These are [Heaven-Grade Frostfire Talismans]. They come with a premium feature called ‘Auto-Tracking.’ Please, have a taste.”

With a flick of his wrist, the entire stack ignited without a spark.

Boom!

In an instant, countless energy arrows wreathed in biting frost and scorching flames bloomed like fireworks. Then, as if possessed by a hive mind, they locked onto Taichu and swarmed him from every angle.

Taichu’s expression changed drastically. All at once?!

He hurriedly expanded a dense spiritual energy shield.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Continuous explosions rocked the secret chamber.

The power of a single Frostfire Arrow was comparable to a full-force strike from a mid-stage Nascent Soul cultivator. Under normal circumstances, Taichu wouldn’t have batted an eye. But this wasn’t a duel; it was a natural disaster.

One wave hadn’t even finished detonating before the second, third, and fourth waves crashed down.

Taichu gritted his teeth, analyzing the situation calmly. Such powerful talismans must be astronomically expensive. He cannot possibly sustain this burn rate.

Then, he saw Zhang Xian casually pull out another stack.

Worse, Zhang Xian summoned a puppet decoy whose sole purpose was to stand there and throw more talismans.

Taichu: “???”

Furious, he tried to brute-force his way through the firepower net to strike Zhang Xian’s main body.

However, the moment he moved, he was intercepted by two Zhang Clan Battle Puppets. The massive metal constructs flanked him, raining heavy iron fists down on his skull and forcing him back into a defensive turtle shell.

Then came the scene that completely broke Taichu’s mind.

Zhang Xian summoned more puppet decoys. He lined them up like a firing squad, handed each of them multiple stacks of [Heaven-Grade Frostfire Talismans], and initiated an inhumane, saturation-style bombardment.

The dazzling Frostfire Arrows were no longer fireworks; they were a continuous stream of death rays.

Taichu couldn’t counterattack. He couldn’t even twitch. He was pinned behind his eroding shield, desperately burning his origin essence just to survive. Meanwhile, the two battle puppets treated his barrier like a hot iron on an anvil, hammering away with rhythmic, terrifying force.

Clang! Clang! Boom!

And Zhang Xian? He had leisurely turned his back on the fight. He was busy rummaging through the room, collecting the bottles and broken artifacts Wang Ye had left behind, acting as if the life-and-death struggle behind him was nothing more than background noise.

Even with the boost from the Seven Emotions Evil Thoughts, Taichu felt his spiritual energy bottoming out.

He was tanking dozens of Nascent Soul level attacks every second, plus two indestructible iron golems pounding him into the dirt. How the hell was he supposed to fight this? This wasn’t combat; it was bankruptcy via violence.

Forget killing Zhang Xian; Taichu was struggling just to keep his physical form intact.

Knowing he was moments away from being ground into paste, Taichu gritted his teeth. Ignoring the cost to his soul, he roared and burned his life essence, forcefully blasting away a wave of arrows to create a gap. He lunged toward Zhang Xian.

But the moment he took a step, a thick wall of ice instantly flash-froze in front of him.

That brief delay was fatal. The circling Frostfire Arrows looped back and swallowed him whole before he could raise his shield.

The two battle puppets seized the opening. Their massive iron fists piston-punched him, smashing him ruthlessly back into the metal floor.

The Frostfire Arrows resumed their carpet bombing, while the cold, merciless puppets proceeded to stomp him into the ground.

What followed was a nightmare Taichu couldn’t wake up from.

He screamed as the relentless attacks tore him apart. He curled into a ball, rolling across the floor like a ragdoll.

Zhang Xian ignored the screams, continuing the “cleaning” operation with the arrows while the puppets administered a brutal, physical beatdown.

After a while, the figure on the floor went silent. He stopped rolling. He lay there like a pile of mud.

Just to be safe, Zhang Xian let the bombardment run for another few seconds until he was sure the target was completely motionless. Only then did he wave his hand to stop the assault.

Taichu’s protective aura was shattered. His face was a swollen, bloody mess, and his body was scorched black by frost and fire. He looked less like a grandmaster and more like a charred corpse.

The arrogant Seven Emotions Evil Thoughts inside him had been beaten into submission and were now dormant.

Zhang Xian walked over, looking down at the wreckage. He clicked his tongue, shaking his head with mock disappointment.

“Brother Center-Part, your stamina is really trash. You didn’t even last ten minutes? The last guy I spammed with Frostfire Arrows managed to hold out for nearly half an hour.”

Taichu’s eyes were vacant. His lips moved, trembling, but no sound came out—only endless humiliation and despair.

A moment ago, he was the predator, destined to rule the five continents. Now, he had been defeated not by a grand technique, but by a wallet. It was a defeat devoid of dignity.

Zhang Xian spoke calmly, “Talk. How do I wake Lele up? Tell me, and I might pretend this never happened and spare your dog life.”

A strange, wet rattle came from Taichu’s throat. Summoning the last dregs of his strength, he squeezed out three words:

“Go… to… hell.”

Then, his head lolled to the side, and he passed out completely.

As he lost consciousness, the black barrier of evil thoughts sealing the entrance dissipated.

However, the path wasn’t clear. Behind where the black barrier had been, a new, indestructible golden film shimmered, emitting a faint, heavy Earth-attribute spiritual light.

The [Realm-Severing Light Wall]!

Zhang Xian spun around, staring through the translucent barrier.

A familiar figure was standing quietly on the other side, watching him.

The man’s expression was placid, his aura as deep and unreadable as an abyss. It was the former Chairman of the Heavenly Abyss Alliance, Lin Jianyuan.

Zhang Xian’s pupils constricted slightly.

“Senior Lin,” Zhang Xian said, his brow furrowing as he looked at the man through the light screen. “What is the meaning of this?”

Lin Jianyuan’s gaze swept over the two pale-gold battle puppets standing guard behind Zhang Xian, then flicked to the unconscious Taichu on the floor. His tone was terrifyingly flat.

“You are indeed formidable. You always exceed my expectations. When did you replicate those puppets? And those seemingly infinite [Heaven-Grade Talismans]… just now, in that brief moment, you consumed nearly 2,000 of them, didn’t you? Truly, a wealth that commands awe.”

Zhang Xian shrugged, his posture relaxing into his usual cynicism. “So? Is this the part where the mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind? Senior Lin, you really know how to calculate.”

Lin Jianyuan’s expression remained unchanged, but his eyes darkened. “You don’t seem particularly surprised. Could it be that my appearance was also within your calculations?”

Zhang Xian walked slowly toward the barrier, stopping inches from the indestructible golden film to lock eyes with Lin Jianyuan.

“I guessed Taichu had a backup plan,” Zhang Xian said calmly. “I just didn’t expect that he was merely a pawn. The player moving the pieces was you all along.”

Lin Jianyuan glanced indifferently at the dying Taichu. “Yes. He is a pitiful child. But he has fulfilled his mission.”

“‘Child’?” Zhang Xian raised an eyebrow, catching the oddity immediately. “Didn’t you say before that he is the fourth-generation heir of the Song family, while you are the fifth generation of the Lin family?”