Old Ray rushed over, grabbed me by the collar, and dragged me off to the side.
"Sigh, that woman Tammy Blade, honestly... The last newcomer who arrived was just like you. She actually cares a lot about everyone, but more often than not, her good intentions backfire. That newcomer didn’t last long before they were gone, and now you’ve shown up again."
I muttered to myself.
"I absolutely can't let her chop off my foot. There must be some way to get back."
What I was thinking was, since Lord Shenyan could bring me in, I should be able to get out as well. And if I manage to survive the month, Lord Shenyan will come looking for me.
Tammy Blade and Mr. Blackmask were glaring at each other, ready to pounce. As for Mr. Blackmask, I’d always felt a sense of hostility toward him. From the moment I saw him, I was certain he was with the Immortality Society—and that made him my enemy.
"We’d better run a bit farther, Qingyuan." Old Ray clamped onto me and took off at a sprint.
"If you’re going to fight, pick another spot. It'll be a mess to clean up later," Vincent Swallow said, taking a gulp of liquor.
A sharp slicing sound cut through the air. I saw Tammy Blade swing her Tibetan knife twice. Mr. Blackmask dodged nimbly, and two faint flashes of the blade swept past. In an instant, the trees behind Mr. Blackmask were split apart and toppled to the ground.
Tammy Blade pressed forward with her knife, leaping at Mr. Blackmask with fierce momentum. But even though he was startled, Mr. Blackmask didn’t panic. He reached out, turned his head aside, ducked low, one hand in the pocket of his ashen white suit, the other transforming into a palm, gliding along the back of Tammy’s blade.
"Bullshit, Mr. Blackmask, keep dreaming."
I watched as Mr. Blackmask was about to grab Tammy Blade’s wrist, but suddenly, the Tibetan knife Tammy had been swinging flew from her hand with a thud, embedding itself in the ground. Mr. Blackmask quickly pushed off and dodged to the right. Then, the knife—its blade sunk deep—suddenly shot up, spun around, and flew straight at Mr. Blackmask.
The whole thing happened in an instant. Just as Tammy’s knife was about to stab Mr. Blackmask, it suddenly veered off. The moment Tammy gripped the knife, she raised it, exposing the blade’s back. A grayish-white figure flashed by—I saw what looked like countless Mr. Blackmasks—and Tammy was defending herself, knife in hand, over and over.
The constant pounding of fists on the knife’s back echoed like a machine gun. I was stunned, with only one thought in my head: either one of these two could easily wipe the floor with me.
Strangely, though, their fight didn’t stir up any wind. Aside from the dead leaves swirling where they clashed, nothing else in the area seemed to move.
"It’s Vincent Swallow’s doing," Old Ray said. I turned to look.
At some point, Vincent Swallow had planted one foot deep in the ground, drinking as usual.
The contest between Tammy Blade and Mr. Blackmask continued. Neither would give an inch—one with fists, the other with a knife.
Suddenly, Tammy Blade flashed a smile.
"You lost, Mr. Blackmask."
My heart skipped a beat. I hadn’t seen Mr. Blackmask falter at all, but Tammy Blade, after blocking a fierce punch, did a backflip, scattering a flurry of fallen leaves, and slashed twice in midair.
With a series of thuds, I saw Mr. Blackmask curl up, arms and legs shielding his head and chest, as he was sent flying.
"Hahaha! Mr. Blackmask, this isn’t about which of us can knock the other out. The real contest is whether I can chop off that kid’s right foot and you stop me. It’s simple—if I cut off his foot, you lose, right?"
I stared, dumbfounded, at this madwoman called Tammy Blade, who was shouting as she closed in, just three or four meters away. I turned to Old Ray for help.
"Don’t look at me. I’ve got nothing. You’re on your own."
"Damn... Have you two had enough—Vermilion Bird..."
In that moment, I drew the Phoenix Blade and pressed it to my chest.
"Vermilion Bird Robe..."
With a thunderous roar and the cry of a phoenix, flames engulfed my body. I felt a scorching heat, waves of fire surging out. Slowly, I lifted off the ground, crimson flames forming into the Vermilion Bird, circling me. I stretched out my claws and struck.
With a boom, a wild gust swirled around me, knocking me back. I flapped my wings desperately, skidding backward before finally stopping.
I let out a scream. My skin felt like it was splitting apart, little by little.
"Oh, the Vermilion Bird Robe? Haven’t seen that in years."
"My body’s my own business. Mind your own damn self," I snapped. Tammy Blade snorted with laughter, and then Mr. Blackmask started laughing too. I stared at them, dumbfounded.
"This kid’s got guts. Not bad. Weak, but he’s passed."
Vincent Swallow spoke, standing up. I looked at the three of them, all smiling, and felt utterly bewildered.
But my situation now seemed off.
"Hey, this kid’s in trouble. Looks like his body can’t handle the Vermilion Bird’s flames—he’s about to break down! Old Eccentric, get out here and take a look!"
Vincent Swallow shouted toward the small hut opposite me. Suddenly, a shadow flickered, and a white-haired old man in a black shirt appeared before me.
"Oh my, Vermilion Bird Robe, huh? Haven’t seen it in ages—still as beautiful as ever. Trans—"
A burst of chattering filled the air. Sweating, I looked down at my body, only to see Old Eccentric holding a birdcage. The Vermilion Bird Robe had been stripped away, leaving my skin bright red and burning with pain.
The chattering grew louder. I swallowed hard, staring at the birdcage in Old Eccentric’s hand. Inside was a Vermilion Bird, no bigger than a sparrow, perched on a stick and chirping away.
"Try it—see if you can still summon fire, kid."
I let out a sound, focused my mind, and felt a buzz in my head. My body was empty—nothing left. The flames didn’t appear at all.
"This isn’t your original power, kid. I’ll hold onto it for you. If you ever get out, I’ll give it back—just return it to its rightful owner."
"Thank you, sir."
But Old Eccentric didn’t seem pleased.
"Hey, why call me sir? I’m not old! Just call me Old Eccentric, kid."
I made a sound and called him Old Eccentric.
"Who the hell woke me up? Damn it, damn it all!"
A string of curses erupted. I saw it came from the second hut on my left—a short figure in a green youth uniform, face pockmarked and angry.
"Oddball Moe, we’ve got a newcomer."
"Oh yeah? Let me have a look." The short guy, barely up to my neck, moved like a monkey, scurrying over on all fours. He looked me up and down, then grinned.
"Whoa, Vermilion Bird Robe, huh."
That’s when I learned they called themselves the Five Oddballs. The oldest, Vincent Swallow, had been here over 300 years; the others, except Oddball Moe, over 200. Oddball Moe was the youngest, at just over a hundred years.
I watched the five of them sitting around the fire, excitedly peppering me with questions. I had no idea how to answer, so I just made stuff up.
Basically, I told them the outside world had changed completely—aliens in the sky, dinosaurs in the water, continents turned into flying scientific marvels, and people could live forever.
I had my reasons for fooling them. I was annoyed—they’d put me through a test to see what I could do, after a whole exhausting day. But they believed everything I said, and kept discussing it.
"Dinosaurs, huh? I’ve heard of those—ancient beasts, but never seen one. Can’t believe they’re real now."
Vincent Swallow looked genuinely envious.
"You just said our sacred mountain, the Himalayas, is gone?" Tammy Blade asked. I chuckled.
"Yeah, the Himalayas are now connected to the moon—a sightseeing path from Earth to the moon. You can travel there in a blink."
Tammy Blade looked envious, lost in thought. I couldn’t hold back—I covered my mouth and turned away, nearly laughing. Old Ray sat beside me, giving me a sidelong glance and whispering.
"Isn’t it bad to trick them like this?"
I shot Old Ray a look and muttered under my breath.
"Hmph, they started it."
"Immortality, huh? By the way, Zhang Qingyuan, people can live forever now, right?" Mr. Blackmask asked. I nodded, eyeing his suit—it looked antique, like something from the 18th century.
"Yeah, people can make all sorts of organs now. If something goes wrong, just swap it out—even the brain."
"Whoa, that’s wild."
Mr. Blackmask jumped up excitedly and came closer. I glanced at him, feeling a bit relieved.
"Wait—if you swap out your brain, wouldn’t you stop being yourself?" Mr. Blackmask looked puzzled. My mind raced, sensing his suspicion.