From Sword to Slaughter: Evolution

After Zhang Feifan spoke, he left the area immediately.

Wolf Brother and the others exchanged glances and sighed heavily.

As coffin bearers, they had no real rights. If Zhang Feifan gave them an order, they had no choice but to follow it. Moreover, their bodies had been implanted with a special energy, a mark that allowed its caster to track their movements no matter where they went. There was no escape for them.

Returning to his sleeping area, Zhou Huachao dusted off his bed and lay down. Staring at the intricate patterns on Ji Mie's blade, he muttered to himself, "Coffin bearer..."

Ever since obtaining this sword, Zhou Huachao had made a decision—he would no longer live as a coffin bearer. Moreover, the gold he had taken from the desert bandits' storage rings was more than enough to buy his freedom.

"An eighth-tier warrior, almost reaching the ninth tier," Zhou Huachao thought. "Although my talent isn't outstanding, with the boost from [All Attribute Enhancement], my cultivation speed is incomparable to ordinary warriors."

Watching him, Ye Fan, the sword spirit within Ji Mie, spoke, "Indeed, although his aptitude is average, the growth he's experiencing now surpasses typical cultivators thanks to the sword's ability."

Zhou Huachao pondered for a moment before sitting up. "It's time to talk to Zhang Feifan."

"Where are you going, Huachao?" Wolf Brother asked curiously, noticing Zhou Huachao heading toward the door.

"I'm going to find Brother Feifan," Zhou Huachao replied, stepping outside.

One of the other coffin bearers, his skin dark from the sun, watched Zhou Huachao leave with a curious expression.

…

Meanwhile, at Zhang Feifan's home, he was happily counting his earnings.

"The coffin-bearing business has been good lately," he chuckled to himself, dropping coins into a treasure chest before locking it securely.

"Brother Feifan."

A voice called from outside the door, and Zhang Feifan frowned, his mood souring as he was interrupted.

He hid the treasure chest and strode to the door, opening it to find Zhou Huachao standing there.

"Zhou Huachao? What do you want?"

"You should be resting right now. Don't expect to slack off on tomorrow's coffin job," Zhang Feifan said coldly, clearly annoyed.

"I don't want to carry coffins anymore," Zhou Huachao said firmly.

Zhang Feifan's eyes widened in surprise before narrowing with anger. "You don't want to carry coffins anymore!?"

These coffin bearers were his money-makers, his tools. How dare one of them say they didn't want to work anymore?

"Yes," Zhou Huachao continued calmly, "I want out."

Zhang Feifan's face darkened. "You want to buy your freedom? Do you even have enough gold for that?"

"I do."

"Three hundred thousand gold coins. Do you have that much?" Zhang Feifan sneered.

Coffin bearers were typically sold into servitude from a young age. After brutal training, they became hardy workers, and though there was a path to buy their freedom, the cost was exorbitant. Earning three hundred thousand gold coins from coffin-bearing alone could take a lifetime.

"Yes, I do," Zhou Huachao replied confidently.

With a thought, he retrieved a pile of gold coins from the storage ring he had taken from the bandits. A heap of gold clattered onto the floor, forming a small mountain.

Zhang Feifan's eyes widened in disbelief, stunned by the sight of so much wealth.

"Take me to the Martial King. I want this mark removed from my body," Zhou Huachao said, his voice unwavering.

Once the mark placed on him by the Martial King was removed, he would truly be free. Just thinking about it filled Zhou Huachao with excitement.

Zhang Feifan, recovering from his shock, stared at the gold, his expression shifting.

"You must've gotten this from the bandits you killed in the desert," he said, his eyes gleaming with greed.

"Yes," Zhou Huachao replied cautiously.

A twisted smile spread across Zhang Feifan's face. "You forget, I told you when you became a coffin bearer: everything you earn while working belongs to me."

Zhou Huachao's expression hardened. "That's absurd. I earned this gold by killing the bandits myself!"

"No, it's mine," Zhang Feifan said, shaking his head. "Now go back and tell Zhang Lang and the others to hand over all the gold you've collected."

Zhou Huachao clenched his fists in anger. "Don't push me, Zhang Feifan."

"And what will you do?" Zhang Feifan sneered. "Do you think you can kill me?"

Zhou Huachao's face darkened, and he slowly drew Ji Mie from its sheath. The sheath, though made from a strong material, shattered instantly under the sword's power.

A wave of murderous energy burst forth.

Zhang Feifan's eyes narrowed, sensing the danger. In an instant, he leapt back, avoiding the strike. Though he was a peak martial master, he had never encountered a sword with such a terrifying aura.

Even though the attack hadn't hit him directly, the force of it tore a deep gash in the ground.

"Zhou Huachao! Have you lost your mind!?" Zhang Feifan roared, his voice filled with anger.

"You forced my hand," Zhou Huachao replied through gritted teeth. Despite having Ji Mie's power, the memories of Zhang Feifan's abuse still haunted him, making him tremble with anger and fear.

"This is my gold! I'm buying my freedom!" Zhou Huachao shouted.