Chapter 2 The Primal Chaos Pearl!

"Chu Tian, you... you..."
Xu Jiao was dizzy, her face covered in blood. She collapsed to the floor, terror etched across her expression. She tried to speak, but was cut off by Chu Tian.
"Shh, don't talk. I’m treating your illness," Chu Tian sneered, raising his hand once more.
"Chu... Chu Tian..."
"Your sickness will soon be cured. Very soon, you won’t feel any more nausea. Just hold out a little longer."
Bang!
Another blow.
Blood gushed forth, painting the scene with an even thicker crimson.
"Help—"
Thud, thud, thud!
Xu Jiao tried to call for help, but Chu Tian grabbed her by the hair, smashing her head ruthlessly against the wall, again and again.
With a heavy thump, Xu Jiao crumpled to the floor like a dead dog, the ground rapidly soaking in the spreading blood.
"You... you... who... are... you?" Xu Jiao’s voice was barely a whisper. Her whole body trembled, her face as pale as death, her body exposed and helpless.
She simply could not comprehend why Chu Tian would suddenly try to kill her.
But recalling the strange things he’d said at first, she realized something was wrong. Perhaps the Chu Tian before her was no longer the one she once knew.
So, with her last breath, she asked the question.
"Me?"
A cruel smile played at Chu Tian’s lips. "Human Demon, Chu Tian."
Bang!
Before he finished speaking, Chu Tian stomped down on Xu Jiao’s head.
"Congratulations, you’re cured. From now on, you’ll never suffer again."
Chu Tian then kicked aside her headless corpse, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, and gazed down at the city’s pre-dawn skyline.
Moments later, the lights in the room flickered without warning, plunging the space into darkness. When the light returned, Chu Tian had vanished from the window.

Outside the Eight Days Hotel.
He exhaled slowly. "After being reborn, I’m not as powerful as I once was." Chu Tian’s face was pale. If he had retained all his former strength, he could have gone anywhere on earth in a single minute.
Now, the best he could do was blink from the hotel room to the street below.
Still, he understood well enough—if all his past power had returned with him, his current body would not have withstood it.
Fortunately, a portion of his divine sense had followed him through rebirth, perhaps one ten-thousandth of what he once possessed.
It was only a fraction—
But even that was enough to dominate this world.
He took a deep breath. There were only two things he wished to do now.
First, see his parents and family.
In his last life, his parents died because of his foolishness. Though he eventually avenged them, for five hundred years afterward, he suffered the agony of longing every single day.
Now, with a new life, he would make up for every regret.
Even the family dog would be trained to become a demon king in this life!
Second, he would go to Mount Taiji and visit his master.
For, besides a portion of his divine sense, a certain treasure had also accompanied him in rebirth.

The Primordial Pearl.
The Primordial Pearl rested upon his Seven Apertures Exquisite Heart, but only half of it; the other half was with his master.
In his past life, while fleeing Xu Jiao’s pursuit, he met his master, learned cultivation, and took revenge upon Xu Jiao.
Later, he obtained half the Primordial Pearl from the old man. The Primordial Pearl was a supreme innate treasure. He then found the other half, merged them, and sensed he was about to break a terrifying shackle. So, he entered seclusion to cultivate.
He hadn’t expected that, while in seclusion, he would be reborn.
Now, only half the Primordial Pearl had returned with him; the half from his master was missing.
He surmised it must still be with the old man. He had to retrieve the other half.
The Primordial Pearl would allow his ordinary body to quickly transform, forging a stronger physique. Together with his demonic arts, it would yield a hundredfold increase in power.
A single day of cultivation would equal a hundred for ordinary people!
"If I remember correctly, my parents are on a business trip these few days. I’ll head directly to Mount Taiji!"
Chu Tian made up his mind.
Mount Taiji lay five hundred kilometers from Tianmen City. In his past life, Chu Tian could have made the journey in an instant. Now, he had to buy a ticket and take the high-speed rail.
Yet, he chose business class!
Though he was only a student now, and his parents, firm believers in raising sons with frugality and daughters with wealth, gave him little pocket money—leaving him nearly broke after buying the ticket—
He wasn’t concerned.
For him, making money was as simple as turning his hand.
There were only six seats in business class: spacious, comfortable, and, being night, only three were occupied, including Chu Tian. As soon as he boarded, he fell asleep.
But he hadn’t slept long before he was awakened by a fit of coughing.
Annoyed, he looked over. "Are you sick?"
The coughing came from an elderly man, about seventy, his complexion sickly pale.
"Young man, mind your manners," said a burly middle-aged man beside the old man, glaring at Chu Tian.
"Jiulong, don’t be rude!"
The old man gently rebuked him, then apologized to Chu Tian. "Young friend, forgive us for disturbing you. I do have some health problems. This journey is to seek treatment for my illness."
"Oh," Chu Tian replied, expression unchanged. He saw through the old man at once. "You have lung cancer. Seeking treatment is pointless. You’d be better off going home, eating and drinking what you like, and waiting for the end."
Cancer—let alone now, even five hundred years in the future, modern medicine still couldn’t cure it.
If anyone in the world could treat cancer, it would be Chu Tian.
No one else—not his master, not any warrior, alchemist, or healer—could do it.
But Chu Tian was no saint, and had no intention of treating a random stranger. Curing cancer would cause major trouble and commotion, and he detested complications.
"What did you say!" The middle-aged man called Jiulong’s eyes narrowed. This young man was utterly insolent, telling the old master to go home and await death?
Who was the old master?
How could a mere youth speak so presumptuously?
Enraged, he raised his hand to slap Chu Tian.
"Jiulong!"
The old master tried to stop him, but it was too late—the blow could not be recalled.

Whoosh!
A fierce wind stirred.
The old master sighed to himself. His bodyguard, Wang Jiulong, was an elite among elites, a true practitioner of ancient martial arts. Not even a squad of special forces could match him. This slap would surely leave the young man unrecognizable.
Yet—
In the next instant—
Wang Jiulong’s hand froze midair.
Chu Tian had seized his wrist.
Wang Jiulong felt as if an iron vice had clamped down, rendering him helpless, unable to move!
"Courting death."
With a calm expression, Chu Tian lashed out with a whip-like kick to Wang Jiulong’s chest.
Bang!
In a flash,
Wang Jiulong doubled over, sent flying against the carriage wall.
Crunch, crunch, crunch!
Ten ribs shattered!
How could this be?
The old master’s aged eyes were wide with disbelief. He had seen many storms in his life, but this scene left him utterly shaken.
Wang Jiulong was someone he had personally selected and trained—one ordinary people could never approach, no matter how many.
Yet now, Wang Jiulong was so easily defeated by this youth?
Had he not witnessed it himself, he would never have believed it. Even seeing it with his own eyes, he wondered if he were dreaming.
Wang Jiulong, too, was stunned as he felt his injuries. His hawk-like gaze was filled with terror and shock.
A single kick had broken ten of his ribs!
How could this young man possess such terrifying strength?
After years of training and tempering, even if struck with a steel bar at full force, his bones would not break.
Yet this youth had done it with a casual kick?
Since when were random passersby this formidable?
"You should be grateful I just killed someone. My bloodlust isn’t strong right now, or else... you’d already be dead."
Chu Tian glanced at Wang Jiulong, his tone indifferent, as if nothing had happened.
Yet that single look chilled Wang Jiulong to the bone. He sensed a dormant, monstrous terror in Chu Tian’s eyes.
This youth had killed before—many times!
"Young friend, my apologies—it was my man who was rude."
The old master was quick to recover. Having weathered many storms, he apologized immediately, then turned to Wang Jiulong in anger. "Apologize now! I’ve told you countless times to keep a low profile—is this your idea of modesty?"
"Yes, Master Wei."
"Young friend, I apologize for my rudeness."
Wang Jiulong’s hand crept toward the dagger at his waist, remaining on guard as if facing a mortal threat.
"Young friend, Jiulong is my man. I, Wei Yuansheng, am responsible for this. I didn’t bring much with me on this trip..."
The old master rolled up his right sleeve, removed the watch from his wrist, and offered it to Chu Tian. "Please accept this as an apology."
The watch was exquisitely made, with intricate parts, some crafted from pure gold—clearly valuable.
"You’re Wei Yuansheng?"
Chu Tian was surprised. He looked at the old master with unexpected interest.