Far in the western wilderness of the Star Luo Empire, after twisting through desolate valleys, a small town appeared. A figure wrapped in a black robe walked slowly toward a tavern, ignoring the strange stares of the townsfolk.
The tavern was dim, the air stagnant and thick with the stench of blood. Patrons felt an unnatural chill. The figure scanned the room, passed the few customers, and sat in a corner.
A blank-faced waiter in black approached. "What'll it be?"
"A cup of Yellow Spring Dew from the Underworld."
The waiter turned without expression and left. Soon a glass of bright-red, turbid liquid arrived—smelling strongly of raw blood. The figure drained it in one gulp, smacked his lips, and still wanted more.
As the waiter moved, a glimpse of the hooded face appeared: cold features ruined by a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. Most shocking were the bloodshot eyes with no pupils—only the word "Blood" deeply engraved on each eyeball.
Noticing the waiter's stare, the figure grinned, baring fangs. "Again!"
The waiter fled in panic. Lin Yang chuckled softly and ignored him. This was not his original body, but a clone split from his true flesh and blood. This tavern was merely the entrance to the Slaughter City.
More people arrived, all silent, eyes filled with deep wariness. The stench of blood and vicious glint in their gazes marked them as extremely evil individuals.
Bang! A glass slammed onto the counter, shattering the silence. The waiter said coldly, "Today's Yellow Spring Dew is sold out. Time to depart."
As he spoke, a passage to the underground suddenly opened behind the counter. The patrons glanced at one another but didn't move—until the flesh-and-blood clone stepped forward, ignoring their stares, and led the way. The others followed.
Once everyone entered, the counter slammed shut. The waiters greeted the next group as if nothing had happened.
The clone had once believed one must fight to earn entry to the Slaughter City. On reflection, the city was no paradise—how else could the Killing King inside maintain numbers without constant bloodshed? In the original story the black-armored knight had targeted Tang San for "breaking rules," likely because he wasted too much blood material.
The long corridor was pitch black. Those who reached this place were powerful enough that darkness meant nothing. Cold voices echoed from all directions:
"Welcome to the Slaughter City—the City of Hell, a world of endless massacre. Here you may obtain anything you desire… at the price of your life."
The clone's eyes flickered but he pressed on. The others followed, wary but committed.
After turning a corner, a vast city appeared—the Slaughter City. Filth, blood, violence, slaughter, and death made it paradise for villains and hell for the weak.
Black-armored knights stood before the gate like emotionless statues. They didn't react to newcomers; they had seen it all.
Approaching the gate, the clone paused. His soul rings were sealed—yet he could still use his abilities. The power was weakened, but it remained a pleasant surprise. His soul skills were not ordinary; they were blood-magic-like techniques rooted in his bloodline. The seal affected rings but not blood.
Just as Lin Yang prepared to enter, an abrupt voice rang out: "I want to quit!"
Everyone froze. Dozens of eyes turned to a burly man at the rear. He stepped back, then glared defiantly. The others stopped, expectant.
A black-armored knight stepped forward. "You may enter. You may not leave."
"Hmph!" the burly man snorted. "I haven't entered yet. Whether I go or stay is my choice. You have no right to interfere."
He turned to leave. Cold light flashed in the knight's eyes; three soul rings appeared at his feet. He attacked without hesitation.
The burly man sneered. "A mere Soul Elder? I am a Soul King!"
He tried to possess his martial soul—only to discover he could summon it but not activate skills. "Wait—wait a second!"
Panic set in. He waved his arms frantically. The knight ignored him and drove a spear through his heart.
A Soul King outside had died humiliatingly to a Soul Elder. Everyone felt a chill. In the Slaughter City all soul-ring and soul-bone skills were nullified. Only body and technique remained. Even Soul Douluo or Title Douluo could die quietly here.
After the spectacle, the clone received a black token from the knight. "This is your identification in the Slaughter City. Keep it safe. Enter. Someone awaits you."
The token was cold, entirely black, bearing a skull pattern on the front and the number "13013" on the back.
He stored it and stepped through the gate. A woman in a long black dress and black veil—only her eyes visible—approached and bowed.
"Welcome to the Slaughter City. I am your guide. For the next twelve hours I will answer any questions about the city."
The clone waved dismissively. "Enough nonsense. Take me to the Killing Hell Arena."
The guide looked surprised. "I recommend learning the city's rules first."
"No need." The clone shook his head, eyes meaningful. "I came here to die. Please don't delay my death, all right?"
....