The name "White-Haired Witch" showing up on the National Beauty Rankings made Old Eagle stop and think. Lost in thought, he suddenly heard Wayne Sledgehammer call out: "Old Eagle!"
"Hmm?"
"Uh, why is your hair white now?" Wayne Sledgehammer's gaze flicked between the rankings description and Old Eagle's head—ruthless, powerful, lawless, it all felt oddly familiar. Plus, Old Eagle didn't react to other names, but his expression changed here, so there had to be a reason. "Wait, are you and that White-Haired Witch—cough, I mean, that white-haired beauty—connected somehow?"
"Huh?!" Old Eagle shuddered all over—oh crap, his hair color had given him away! Sigh, this hair is just impossible; every time he dyes it, the rain and wind wash it out. Last night, the impact from the Dragon-Slaying Palm instantly revealed his true colors, and he hadn't had time to redo it today. Looking up, he saw Wayne Sledgehammer, Barry Sherman, and the other massage sticks, all staring at him with weird looks.
"Old Eagle, don't tell me you and that white-haired beauty are..."
"Ahaha, no way, that's nonsense!" Old Eagle denied it flatly, grabbing his white hair. "This is because... oh, I used a forbidden secret technique called, uh... the 'Heavenly Demon Life Swap Mega-Technique!'"
"Heavenly Demon Life Swap Mega-Technique?" The massage sticks were instantly captivated by the super edgy name.
"That's right, the Heavenly Demon Life Swap Mega-Technique. It lets you temporarily trade lifespan for power." Old Eagle, thinking on his feet, spun the story with dramatic flair: "You guys think Guo Jing's Dragon-Slaying Eighteen Palms is easy to handle? If I hadn't burned my lifespan, you two wouldn't have made it to sunrise last night! Look at this snowy hair—it's all for the sake of the united front! You comrades must appreciate my painstaking efforts—ah, cough, cough!"
Okay, Old Eagle's acting was a bit over the top—definitely fake. But when he coughed, he actually spat out two blasts of bone-chilling Yin energy. That energy was packed with terrifying Yin-style internal power, not much in quantity but endless in vibe. When it blew onto Barry Sherman's face, it actually made his skin sting.
"Whoa—!" Barry Sherman was stunned. "Is this the internal power from the Nine Yin Secret Manual? Old Eagle, are you okay?!"
"Cough, cough, cough—I've got Nine Yin internal energy running wild in my meridians. Took me three hours and it's still not cleared out." That part wasn't a lie; Old Eagle really did have some weird energy causing trouble inside. The Dragon-Slaying Palm may be an external technique, but Guo Jing's got it all—his internal power is scary strong. The Eggshell Defense works pretty well against physical damage, temperature extremes, and internal energy attacks, but its level just isn't high enough yet.
After some testing, he found that an eighth-level Eggshell could block pretty much any attack below the "Breakthrough" stage, so whether it was Yelü Qi or the old Taoist, anyone who hadn't broken through was basically easy pickings for Old Eagle. But for attacks at Breakthrough or Innate and above, it couldn't hold up. For someone like Jin Xinxin, just entering the Innate stage, it could barely manage, but anything beyond the first tier of Innate internal power was too much.
The good news? Compared to the Golden Bell Shield, the Eggshell has a huge advantage: it almost never shatters.
The Golden Bell Shield relies on internal power, so if a breakthrough attack smashes it, your defense drops to zero. Worse, once it's broken, the shock hits your dantian and can wreck your martial arts foundation forever. You'd have to spend ages and burn tons of energy just to get your defenses back up to scratch.
But the Eggshell? It’s got a two-pronged approach—internal power and physical body as its base. As long as both aren't wiped out at the same time, as long as your blood and chi aren't totally drained, the Eggshell won’t shatter and keeps working. Even if you get hit by something way above its defense level, the Eggshell still cuts down the damage, working like a filter to offset it proportionally.
Of course, that damage reduction has its limits. Guo Jing's hundred-plus years of internal power blows right past that limit. Luckily, the Dragon-Slaying Palm is technically an external technique, and most of Guo Jing’s power goes into boosting himself, not attacking others. Old Eagle mixed defense with dodging, picking his battles, and managed to scrape by. If it had been something like the Bone-Melting Cotton Palm—an internal technique—the Eggshell would’ve been toast.
Of course, Old Eagle would just switch up his strategy in that case. Moves are fixed, but people are flexible—no way a living person gets taken out by a full bladder, right?
Guo Jing's Nine Yin internal power was way stronger than King Goldblade’s or Princess Yihua’s, even beating Princess Embroidered Jade at her peak. The quality and quantity were on a whole other level. The force invading his body was dozens of times nastier than the blade energy or ice power he faced before. But Yang Qi’s internal skills had also improved by leaps and bounds—after training the Marrow-Washing Sutra, her meridians were tough and her dantian solid. With the home field advantage, their clash was hot and heavy, blow for blow.
The Supreme Skill slowly pushed out the Nine Yin energy, and in the process, Old Eagle got a lot out of it. Like hammering iron, the Supreme Skill got tougher and more refined, almost reaching the quality of half-step Innate true energy—great for breaking through to the Saint level in the future.
If he hadn’t been so focused on all this, Old Eagle would never have let his hair color give him away.
"Old Eagle!" A bunch of massage sticks rushed over, bawling their eyes out: "Old Eagle, you can't die! The united front still needs your brilliant leadership! The masses can't live without you! Heaven really hates a genius!"
"Shoo, shoo, get outta here! Die my butt. I just need a couple days' rest, quit acting like a bunch of fake filial sons in mourning—it's gross!" Old Eagle chopped at them with his hand, teaching them a lesson. Just then, a little servant dashed in from outside, clutching a stack of papers, yelling, "Everyone, the Alliance Against Evil just released a new set of wanted posters this morning—come take a look!"
"Wanted posters? Let me see—whoa, isn't this Barry Sherman? Two hundred and fifty taels? That price is enough to wake you right up!"
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"Let me check this one—hey, that's Wayne Sledgehammer, also two hundred and fifty taels? A matching set, how delightful!"
"You little bastards—!" Barry Sherman and Stayfree were fuming. For an intel-savvy united front, the "matching set" joke had probably already gone viral.
"You little bastards—!" Barry Sherman and Wayne Sledgehammer were fuming. For an intel-savvy united front, the "matching set" joke had probably already gone viral.
The Three Marvels crowded in for a look—sure enough, the Alliance Against Evil was efficient, already updating the images. On the new wanted poster, the portrait of Jade Hawk Johnson, the Flower Thief, was clearly drawn by a real artist—outfit, build, facial features, the whole vibe was spot on. Even that wild and wicked glint in his eyes was captured perfectly—pretty lifelike, honestly.
But the Three Marvels had one question, whispering: "Boss, why not make the Qingxu Temple incident public? Why take the blame and let everyone curse your name for nothing?"
"How is it blame for nothing? I did kill them—everyone at Qingxu Temple really was my handiwork, so it's not exactly slander. As for why, who listens to a so-called pervert explain the facts? Besides, I'm leaning into the villain role—just as planned." Old Eagle's eyes flashed. "Jade Hawk Johnson is a martial world demon; the more notorious, the better. A fearsome reputation is useful. Anyone who tries to frame me gets crushed. But as for the real crimes, I wish I had a whole basket more."
"Well... that's actually true..." The Three Marvels thought it over and realized Old Eagle had a point. Martial artists rely on skills, but folks in the martial world need reputation too. If you're famous, you're a big shot; if not, you're just a nobody. With a name, people respect you. No name, you’re just background noise. A bad reputation is its own kind of fame—used right, it’s even more powerful than a good one.
"It's settled! To become the number one demon king, I’m gonna do what a 'Flower Thief' should do!" Old Eagle hoisted the Beauty Rankings, full of energy: "Every gorgeous lady on this list, I’m going for a total sweep, gotta catch 'em all! If I get there first, don’t cry about it, you hear?"
"Old Eagle, you rock!"
"Hahaha, alright, time for your second theme song! Come on, sing with me: Dressed in whatever, no need for brands, natural swag is real style! Hair dancing in the wind, now that's awesome. Every move, every step, brings a breeze—now that's what I call cool!"
With Old Eagle leading the way, the mood in the little courtyard shot through the roof. The Three Marvels watched in disbelief as a bunch of Flower Thieves sang in unison—the weird song was enough to drain anyone’s energy. Outside, the auspicious hour had arrived: firecrackers popped, dragon and lion dancers performed in the street, and cheers filled the air. Whoosh—a big red banner unfurled, revealing four golden characters, shining bright: "Gynecology Master."
On this day, the legendary clinic that would one day open chain stores all across the land took its first step in Xiangyang City—well, maybe the second or third, who knows how many branches these massage sticks have set up everywhere?
Inside, the Pervert Choir was at its wildest—now they’d even added a second harmony.
"Handsome guy, you, you’re really, really cool—you’re the new generation’s Trailblazer!"
"Hoohoo—wahahaha!" Surrounded by his adoring fans, Old Eagle burst out laughing in full Peking Opera villain mode. It felt like his journey as a demon king was officially beginning, with a bright future ahead.
But—wait—
An hour later, in a Xiangyang inn, the Young Mistress of Spirit Vulture Palace, the Chief of Peach Blossom Village, the White-Haired Witch—Yang Qi—collapsed onto the bed in a dramatic pose, burying her face deep in the covers. Her whole posture screamed exhaustion and gloom.
"I'm doomed... I just can't help getting hyped up around people..." The Witch's voice came muffled through the blanket, totally defeated. After a moment, she popped her head up, looking hopeful at the bedside: "Can I skip it? I'm just a junior, a nobody—surely the Head Mistress can handle it solo?"
"Nope." Wu Jiaoniang stood with her hands on her hips like a little housekeeper. "You’re the only one in the sect with any ties to that family—they asked for you by name to thank you for saving their daughter. I’m just riding your coattails. If you don’t go, who will?"
"Ahhh, I don’t wanna go~~!" The White-Haired Witch buried her face in the covers again, flailing around on the bed. First, she didn’t want to deal with that kind of event, and second, she’d partied too hard last night—who knows what she might’ve let slip. She’d expected a few days’ buffer after all the hero summit drama, time to figure something out. But the Guo family was so enthusiastic, they’d squeezed in a reception for her tonight.
"I've already tried every excuse in the book, but there's just no getting out of it. So, no choice." Jiaoniang sat on the bed, patting Yang Qi on the back of her head. "Besides, I was looking for Yideng all night, but he never showed. Looks like we’ll have to ask the Guo family what’s up. If you can’t stop yourself from acting wild, you’ll just have to deal with the fallout. Go on, Peach Blossom Bandit!"
Huff! The Witch shot up, eyes blazing, full of resolve: "Fine! If you make a mess, you clean it up. Eighteen years later, I’ll be a badass all over again!"
"No need to be so dramatic. I actually thought of a trick for you. If you pull it off, they’ll never suspect you and Jade Hawk Johnson are connected."
"What trick?"
"Heh, it’s easy." Jiaoniang grinned mischievously. "Just act like a proper young lady from a noble family."
"A... proper young lady...?" Boom—a thunderbolt out of the blue. The Witch was totally dumbfounded.
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