Chapter 163: I Don't Get It — You Told the Good Part, What About the Bad?!
"He deserves to die!"
The grief and hatred in Old Tang's voice—born of betrayal by his own brother—filled the entire space, spreading like wildfire.
Even Tang Wulin couldn't help but feel furious. His fists clenched tightly, anger flaring in his chest.
"Old Tang, I never imagined your past was so tragic!"
A brother's betrayal, stealing not just the sect master's position but also the woman he loved—
That was unforgivable!
Compared to that, his own poor but loving family felt almost blissful.
Old Tang's life was simply too miserable!
"Old Tang, I promise I'll avenge you!"
Tang God King's eyes glimmered for a moment before dimming again. He sighed softly.
"Forget it."
"Forget it? How can you say that! He's not worthy to be your brother! I'll help you take back everything you lost!"
Old Tang had treated him so kindly—even if his advice often sounded harsh, it had all been for his benefit.
He owed his strength, his current path, all to Old Tang. Without him, there would be no Tang Wulin.
"But now," Tang San said solemnly, "he has fully assumed control of the Haotian Sect. That ten-thousand-year inheritance stands equal to the Spirit Transferring Tower or even Shrek itself. And though his talent is lesser than mine, the dual prodigies of our sect were once known as the Twin Stars of Haotian. After a hundred years, he must have reached Limit Douluo level by now. With your current strength, you cannot surpass him."
Tang Wulin fell silent, depression welling in his chest.
Old Tang had done so much for him, yet he could offer nothing in return—only disobedience that likely angered his mentor repeatedly.
A wave of guilt crashed over him.
"I really am useless!"
Watching Wulin slump in remorse, Tang God King felt extremely satisfied. Not a bad return for his fabricated tale.
"Old Tang," Tang Wulin said at last, his voice steadying, "I'm not strong enough to avenge you yet, but one day, I'll break through every limit. I'll become a Limit Douluo—and bring justice for you!"
He nodded decisively.
He would make that traitor pay.
He would avenge Old Tang!
A faint smile touched Tang San's divine projection.
Good. Hatred gives purpose, and purpose gives drive.
Tang Wulin, don't blame me. When you become a Limit Douluo, when you ascend as a god—when you can stand by my side—you'll understand why I did this. You'll thank me.
…
"Brother Jiang Chen, do you happen to know someone named Tang Si?"
Jiang Chen: "Huh?"
Tang Si? Who on earth was that?
Seeing Jiang Chen's puzzled look, Tang Wulin immediately understood.
Of course—how could anyone outside the great sects know of the current Haotian Sect master?
Over a hundred years had passed. The sect might even have changed leadership entirely—and probably covered up all traces of Old Tang's past.
It didn't matter. Once he reached Limit Douluo level, he would help Old Tang reclaim everything.
Jiang Chen, meanwhile, could only stare blankly at him.
Utterly baffled.
Just a moment ago, Tang Wulin had been confidently lecturing Huo Yun'er about forging—his skill far beyond hers.
Now suddenly he was brooding, seething with righteous fury?
"What the…"
Wait. Could it be that Tang San had woken up again?
He thought back to when Gu Yue nearly lost herself in her impulse to become the Dragon God and reached out toward Tang Wulin—only for Tang God King's divine consciousness to strike her down.
Gu Yue had been wounded, and Tang San's projection fell into dormancy.
Now that Gu Yue had mostly recovered, it made sense that the Tang God King's consciousness had reawakened.
"So he's started brainwashing again, huh?" Jiang Chen muttered, brow furrowing slightly.
Still, he didn't pay it too much mind.
After all, Tang Wulin wasn't someone he particularly cared about.
Whether father and son turned on each other or not hardly mattered.
If he could make Tang San's grand schemes even slightly more troublesome, that alone was satisfaction enough.
He was curious, though—how exactly did Tang San plan to change Tang Wulin's mind now that the boy had chosen not to join Shrek Academy?
Surely he wasn't going to throw him into Qiankun Valley for "spiritual reconstruction" like he did to Huo Yuhao once upon a time? That would be too absurd.
Then again, this was Tang San—the man who had literally split his daughter in half and merged her back together again.
Perhaps even this wasn't beyond him.
"You're… from the Huo family?"
The sudden voice jolted Huo Yun'er out of her focused hammering.
She spun around sharply. "Who's there!?"
As a soul master attuned to mental power, her spiritual senses were especially keen—yet somehow, someone had approached her completely unnoticed.
That alone meant danger.
Her nerves tensed as she scanned the area.
A faint, sinister darkness drifted through the air, coiling like smoke.
A middle-aged man stepped forward, face calm, smile gentle.
Evil Soul Master?
No—wait.
Huo Yun'er looked closer and realized the difference immediately.
Having lived under her ancestor's shadow, she understood the essence of true evil—pure and divine, not twisted or corrupt.
This man's aura wasn't vile or disgusting like those of wild Evil Soul Masters.
Instead, it was clean, focused, and refined—
Exactly like her ancestor's.
He was from the Spirit Transferring Tower.
The Tower gathered individuals with Evil Soul Master potential and trained them under strict supervision, giving them purpose instead of letting them spiral into chaos.
Those with such potential were often fragile, psychologically unstable—easily pushed down a dark path by harsh treatment.
To prevent that, the Tower never imprisoned them or erased their identities. Instead, they were sent to specialized academies like the Royal Soul Engineer Academy, where they could live alongside ordinary students in a class called the Special Division.
This integration prevented social alienation and maintained balance.
The most famous graduate of that division was none other than Blood Demon Douluo Talon.
Of course, nothing came for free.
Every "Evil Potential" soul master received a ten-thousand-year soul spirit for surveillance—ensuring they would never stray into true evil.
They also underwent regular evaluations and spiritual checks.
Once strong enough to fully absorb that soul spirit, it became theirs permanently—but the Tower still maintained records forever.
In essence, their entire lives remained under the Tower's watchful eye.
But who would complain about that?
A free ten-thousand-year soul spirit, paired with specialized resources from both the Federation and the Tower—
Even those with mediocre innate talent could rise swiftly.
Monitored or not, once one reached Titled or even Limit Douluo status, who would dare impose restrictions?
It was all reward, no punishment.
The Holy Spirit Cult hated the Tower most of all—not Shrek, not the Federation.
Because their resentment boiled down to one simple truth:
Why didn't you offer this luxury training before we turned evil?!
(END CHAPTER)
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