This was the first time he had bitten someone, but there was no other way. If he wanted to find out who was trying to kill him, this was the only method.
His corpse toxin wasn't just lethally poisonous—it could also turn other beings into his puppets.
The little black sparrow from before was just such a puppet, albeit a low-level one.
Though inexperienced at biting others, Jiang Chen possessed the memories of his predecessor zombie. After turning the boy into a zombie, as long as the boy's strength wasn't overwhelmingly greater than his own, Jiang Chen still had a chance to control him.
Sharp teeth pierced the boy's skin, severing an artery. At that moment, Jiang Chen's soul trembled, as if awakening to something unknown.
Before, when he secretly tasted the blood of poultry, it had been delicious. But now, the flood of blood gushing from the boy's neck felt like an intoxicating stimulant.
The taste of the blood was, to him, like ambrosia—divine nectar, filled with irresistible allure.
Unable to restrain himself, Jiang Chen greedily sucked the blood, swallowing it deep into his stomach. The blood's warmth spread through his body like an elixir, making his entire being surge with vitality, as if his blood was boiling in celebration. It was an ecstatic sensation that made him feel almost divine.
Suddenly, while lost in this frenzy, Jiang Chen stiffened—vast swaths of memory flooded into his mind, all about the boy before him.
From childhood up until now, the boy's memories were transmitted through his blood into Jiang Chen's mind.
Jiang Chen gradually sobered. He had been feeding for quite a while.
The boy's eyes were wide with terror, face pale as paper, life force slowly fading. Jiang Chen quickly pulled back.
That was close—too close. If he had killed the boy outright, the transformed zombie would be nothing but a mindless corpse, useless to him.
Fortunately, the boy had not fully died. As long as Jiang Chen's corpse toxin seeped into his soul, the boy would become a true zombie—an intelligent one like Jiang Chen himself.
If the boy's strength wasn't far beyond Jiang Chen's, he would gain full control over him. This control would deepen over time, entwining his very soul, making escape impossible.
Having absorbed the boy's memories, Jiang Chen now knew the boy hadn't lied—he truly did not know who the employer was.
Jiang Chen could only hope that once the boy became a zombie under his control, he could rely on him to investigate and uncover the mastermind behind the scenes.
With this resolved, Jiang Chen ended his zombie state and stood up.
"Hm?" Jiang Chen sensed something and turned his gaze toward the direction of Saint Soul Village. About a hundred meters away, behind a large tree, a small head peeked out.
The moment the little head saw that Jiang Chen had noticed it, it quickly ducked back behind the tree.
Due to the distance, Jiang Chen couldn't make out who it was clearly. Just as he took a few steps to approach, a small figure suddenly dashed out from behind the tree, sprinting wildly toward Saint Soul Village as if running for their life.
Jiang Chen was stunned—it was a figure he knew very well: Tang San.
He gave a bitter laugh. This was a serious misunderstanding now. Having witnessed him sucking blood, Tang San would surely regard him as a ferocious beast from now on, unwilling to come near.
Shaking his head, Jiang Chen turned back to the boy's side and waited quietly.
The heart wound the boy had inflicted earlier had already healed. Zombies were notoriously difficult to kill—unless faced with a specific countermeasure.
Jiang Chen delved deeply into the boy's memories and found a hint of pity within his story.
The boy's name was Jing Wuming. He had once been the young master of a small sect, but the sect was wiped out when he was three years old. He was saved and taken in by a man named Jing Wuchang, who raised him as an assassin.
Since he was six, Jing Wuming had been trained in the art of killing by his foster father Jing Wuchang. Now only ten years old, his soul power had already reached level nineteen—a true prodigy.
What surprised Jiang Chen even more was that Jing Wuming possessed a twin soul. His first soul was a shadow, the second a sword.
Twin souls were exceedingly rare—only three had ever appeared in the original records. Yet here was another, though Jing Wuming had never formally registered his soul with the Soul Hall, so the experts remained unaware.
Even if he had, the master wouldn't have known. After all, the master's knowledge was largely derived from statistics gathered while still at the Soul Hall. Having left long ago, any new twin souls emerging would remain unknown to him.
Earlier, Jing Wuming had used the first soul skill of his shadow soul, hiding within the tree's shadows.
"So that's why he was hiding in the shadows—I couldn't find him," Jiang Chen realized.
"This soul skill is truly unique. Wherever there's shadow, he can conceal himself."
Currently, Jing Wuming's soul power was at level nineteen, and his innate soul power was level eight—already an extraordinary genius compared to most.
After understanding Jing Wuming's background, Jiang Chen's heart raced with excitement. An innate soul power of level eight was exceptional, and combined with a twin soul, he was only slightly behind Tang San.
If Jiang Chen could control such a genius, he would gain a powerful ally. Furthermore, Jing Wuming's foster father led the assassin organization in Notting City, meaning Jiang Chen might one day control that entire network.
In Jing Wuming's mind, the assassin organization was a colossal force, though he had little concrete understanding of its true scale.
About ten minutes later, Jiang Chen felt a strange connection suddenly form. A unique sensation emanated from Jing Wuming's body, as if an unseen bond linked them together.
Jiang Chen felt a surge of joy—he knew things were finally turning in the right direction.
Before his eyes, the wound on Jing Wuming's stomach and the bite marks on his neck began to shrink visibly, healing rapidly until, in the blink of an eye, they disappeared completely, leaving smooth, unblemished skin behind.
Jing Wuming's eyes were momentarily dazed, but after a brief pause, clarity returned. He stood up.
He looked at Jiang Chen with a complex expression, but in the end, he respectfully knelt on one knee.
"Master!"
Only now did Jing Wuming fall completely under Jiang Chen's control. This obedience came from the depths of his soul—if Jiang Chen commanded him to die immediately, he would not dare to resist.
"Master, I, Wuming, have offended you before. Please punish me as you see fit," Jing Wuming said with utmost reverence.
"Rise. You are one of us now—how could I possibly hold it against you?" Jiang Chen smiled and helped him to his feet.
Jing Wuming stood, still showing deep respect, waiting silently for Jiang Chen's orders.
Though he retained his own thoughts, a new, innate obedience to Jiang Chen had taken root in his soul, as if it were born with him.
After carefully confirming there were no flaws in the control, Jiang Chen finally spoke: "Your first mission is to find out who is trying to kill me—and do it quickly."
"Understood!" Jing Wuming bowed his head respectfully.
"Also, from your memories, I learned you intend to attach soul rings to your second soul—the sword, right?"
Jing Wuming was not surprised that Jiang Chen had accessed his memories. He nodded, "Yes."
"Don't rush to add any soul rings to your second soul," Jiang Chen advised.
Jing Wuming was taken aback. "Please, Master, explain."
Jiang Chen said, "Your shadow soul is enough to sustain your cultivation for now. When you reach the level of Soul Douluo or even Title Douluo, then attach soul rings to your sword. At that point, the soul rings you can bear will be tens of thousands—even hundreds of thousands—of years old."
Suddenly, Jing Wuming's eyes flashed with sharp light. He immediately knelt on both knees and respectfully said, "Thank you for your guidance, Master."
"But Master," Jing Wuming protested, "most of my offensive power depends on my sword soul. Without soul rings on it, my strength will suffer greatly."
Jiang Chen seemed to have anticipated this question all along and smiled warmly. "Feel your body carefully."
—