Chen Shouyi walked while occasionally coughing lightly, blood frothing out from his mouth and nose incessantly.

He reached out to wipe it, his hand was full of blood, with traces of lung fragments mixed in.

This injury was more severe than the one from a couple of days ago, where the wound couldn't heal due to toxin contamination, leading to excessive bleeding, and was merely a superficial injury. But this time, his lungs were severely damaged, opened into a large hole.

He glanced at the wound which he tried to close by tightening the surrounding muscles, but it still gushed blood like a small mouth, so he reached to cover it forcefully.

This kind of Sonic Sword is not easy to bear, just like a bullet piercing a steel plate, the hole in the steel is often several times the bullet's cross-sectional area; before he could close this wound, it was large enough to put a little girl's fist into it, and this wasn't even the most damaging part—the worst was the air bubble effect created within the body at supersonic speed.

Though he couldn't see his back, he could imagine his back wound was definitely much larger than the one on his chest.

If it weren't for his body becoming resilient enough from practicing the Thirty-Six Horizontal Training Styles, which reduced the damage several times, he probably wouldn't be able to stand now.

His legs felt like they were filled with lead, wobbling as he staggered forward. Unaware, he tripped and fell to the ground.

He propped his hands up, trying to stand again, but the motion tugged on his injury, causing piercing pain.

He spat out a mouthful of fresh blood and fell back to the ground,

"Damn it!"

A surge of animosity flared up inside him, his palm slapped the ground.

With a "bang," the cement ground cracked.

He coughed a few times, spat out a mouthful of bloody froth, regained some strength, stood back up and continued on.

The wound gradually began to heal, and the speed was increasing, intense itching made him feel as if countless ants were gnawing and crawling, he noticed that the hunger that had faded returned again.

This time the hunger was even fiercer, utterly volcanic.

By the time he returned to the highway, his stomach was already feeling scorched, acidic fluid relentlessly surged upward.

Hungry, incredibly hungry.

This was an unbearable hunger.

Chen Shouyi suspected that if he didn't eat soon, his body would start consuming itself to heal the wound and repair his lungs.

"Must find something to eat!"

He regretted not thoroughly searching the Barbarian's corpse, perhaps he could have found some jerky or something.

His eyes glowed green, scanning the surroundings.

Not far away, a battle bird, still struggling after being wounded by an arrow, emitted pathetic cries, and Chen Shouyi instinctively swallowed, dragging his heavy legs, staggering towards that bird, leaving a trail of blood on the ground.

However, after only a few steps,

He was surrounded by people—a group that had been tracking him.

"Damn it!"

He forced down the hunger, stopped in his tracks, coldly scanning the group.

Among them were men and women, young people and elderly, their weapons varied, with some even just holding a piece of brick.

These people apparently saw his injury and dared to come out boldly.

But they obviously didn't realize that even an injured tiger is still a tiger, something a rabbit couldn't contend with.

"He's done for, it's because of people like him that we endure the alien gaze of the world's Priests. It's time to prove our devout faith," spoke a scholarly-looking middle-aged man holding a gun, sweating profusely under Chen Shouyi's cold, severe gaze, his throat quivering as he forcefully steadied himself:

"Kill him!"

"Kill him!"

Incited by the middle-aged man, the group enthusiastically rushed forward together.

Facing these religious fanatics, Chen Shouyi's heart had completely numbed, unable to muster much anger anymore.

"Bang!" A heavy stick struck his head, snapping in two.

Chen Shouyi swung his hand, the Long Sword slashed across the opponent's abdomen, severing them in half, eliciting a desperate wail.

A young man holding a knife stabbed heavily at Chen Shouyi's abdomen, but the blade tip was blocked by his skin, leaving nothing but a red dot, with no effect. The young man showed a hint of alarm, hurriedly retreating to flee.

But it was too late, a large hand like iron pincers grabbed his neck, with a slight twist, a "crack" sound followed, bending his neck bizarrely.

An old man wielding a kitchen knife, eyes bloodshot, panting heavily, tried to approach but was kicked in the chest by Chen Shouyi. With a series of bone-cracking sounds, his chest entirely caved in and he collapsed heavily to the ground, silent forever.

...

In about ten seconds, bodies lay scattered around, with only the middle-aged instigator left, standing a short distance away holding a gun.

The not-so-intense movements affected his wound, causing the healing injury to tear open again. Chen Shouyi spat out a mouthful of blood while step-by-step walking laboriously towards the middle-aged man:

"Only you left."

"You monster, go to hell!" The middle-aged man's face was filled with fear, frantically pulling the trigger repeatedly while backing away nonstop.

"Bang bang bang..."

Chen Shouyi didn't even bother dodging, merely shielding his eyes with his hand, allowing the bullets to hit him, only to be rebounded by his skin and muscles. Only one bullet, unfortunately, hit the wound on his abdomen and embedded itself inside.

"Click-click-click!"

The pistol emitted a series of empty clicks.

Chen Shouyi reached into his wound, felt for the deformed bullet, pulled it out and tossed it onto the ground, producing a tinkling sound.

Having exhausted all the bullets, the middle-aged man watched this scene unfold, and his handgun dropped to the ground, his emotions completely collapsing, trembling as he said: "This... this is impossible."