I Just Wanted to Teach Cultivation, But Goddesses Keep Coming! - Chapter 428 I Set a Trap for a Rabbit and Caught a Fat Bored Immortal

Meanwhile, far from the tense atmosphere of the pavilion, a figure suddenly dropped onto a cold, metal slab deep within the morgue of Clear Moon City.

“Ahhhh!”

The man screamed as he fell, his mind still trapped in the final moment of his supposed death.

The last thing he remembered was his body exploding into a cloud of blood mist, his consciousness fading into darkness.

He had been certain… absolutely certain… that he was finished.

And yet… he was still here.

His body slammed onto the corpse bed with a dull thud, the icy chill seeping through his bones and snapping him back to reality.

He lay there for a moment, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as panic and confusion warred within him.

“I… I’m alive?”

His voice trembled as he slowly pushed himself up, his eyes darting wildly around his surroundings.

Rows of still bodies lay neatly arranged nearby, the faint stench of death lingering in the air.

Dim light flickered against the walls, casting long, eerie shadows that only deepened the unsettling atmosphere.

“Where is this…?” he muttered hoarsely, his throat dry. “Where did that trickster Lin Feng send me?!”

This man was none other than Long Aotian. He thought he had died.

Yet instead of true death, he had been cast into this strange place, alive but shaken to his core.

Unbeknownst to him, Lin Feng had no intention of personally taking his life.

Up until now, Lin Feng had never killed anyone, and he intended to keep it that way.

So instead of staining his own hands, he chose a different path… one far more… creative.

In Lin Feng’s eyes, Long Aotian’s fate was better left in the hands of someone else.

Someone like Big Fatty Zhang San.

At that thought alone, if Long Aotian had known the truth, he might have preferred the clean end he believed he had already met.

Long Aotian slowly rose to his feet, only to be swallowed by darkness.

The silence was thick, almost suffocating. Frowning, he raised a hand.

A faint glow gathered in his palm, condensing into a small orb of light that illuminated the space around him.

As the light spread, the scene revealed itself… a cold chamber, lined with rows upon rows of stone beds.

Each one held a motionless figure, their forms concealed beneath pale white cloth.

A morgue.

Long Aotian’s eyes flickered with interest rather than fear.

He stepped forward, lifting the edge of one of the cloths with casual indifference.

Beneath it lay a lifeless corpse, its face pale and rigid.

He merely smirked.

Fear? Disgust? None of those emotions existed within him.

On the contrary… this was familiar.

Pain, despair, suffering… those were the things he relished.

Whether mortal or cultivator, as long as they were weaker than him, he had always taken pleasure in breaking them.

Slowly. Creatively. Patiently. He enjoyed the way their voices trembled as they begged.

He enjoyed the way their bodies shook as hope left their eyes.

And most of all… he enjoyed denying them a quick death.

Only when their minds had completely shattered… when they were no longer even aware of their own existence… would he grant them release.

Not out of mercy, but because there was nothing left to play with.

To Long Aotian, that was the perfect end.

Letting the cloth fall back into place, he lost interest and turned away.

“This place… how dull.”

With steady steps, he moved through the chamber, the soft echo of his footsteps breaking the silence.

It didn’t take long before he found a large iron door at the far end.

Without hesitation, he clenched his fist.

Bang!

His punch slammed into the door with enough force to shatter stone. Nothing happened.

The door didn’t so much as tremble.

“What?” Long Aotian muttered, his brows knitting together.

He drew back his fist and struck again.

Bang!

Then again…

Boom!

Pow!

Pew!

He unleashed strike after strike, even circulating his spiritual energy and layering his blows with techniques that could easily crush ordinary defenses.

But the result remained the same.

The door stood there, completely unscathed. Not even a scratch marred its surface.

The echoes of his attacks slowly faded, leaving behind an unsettling stillness.

Long Aotian finally stopped, staring at the door in disbelief.

“…Just what kind of material is this made of?” he muttered under his breath, a trace of confusion creeping into his voice for the first time.

“I can’t believe I can’t even pry this door open!”

Frustration finally seeped into Long Aotian’s voice.

“Open for me!”

With a sharp motion, he summoned his sword.

The blade gleamed coldly under the dim light as he poured his strength into it and struck with full force.

Clang!

Clang!

Clang!

Sparks flew with every impact, the force of his attacks enough to split mountains and shatter steel.

Yet the door before him remained completely unmoved, as if it were forged from an indestructible material beyond his comprehension.

Time passed.

Minutes turned into hours.

His breathing grew heavier, his strikes less controlled, but still nothing.

Not a single mark.

“This… this is impossible…” he muttered, disbelief creeping into his tone.

Just as his patience was nearing its limit…

Creak…

The door slowly opened from the outside. Long Aotian froze.

A massive figure stepped into the chamber.

“Ohhh? Another toy delivered to me by that old fogey Lin Feng?”

The man who entered was extraordinarily fat, his round body casting a large shadow under the dim light.

His small eyes gleamed with interest as they landed on Long Aotian, his lips curling into a strange, knowing smile.

This was Zhang San.

With just a single glance, he seemed to see right through Long Aotian… his temperament, his habits, even the cruelty buried deep within his nature.

“Well now… what an interesting one,” Zhang San chuckled, his tone filled with amusement.

“I can already tell you’re the type who enjoys watching others struggle.”

Long Aotian narrowed his eyes, instinctively taking a step back.

For the first time, a faint sense of unease crept into his heart.

Something about this man… wasn’t right.

Zhang San stepped forward slowly, the floor creaking under his weight.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his grin remaining cold and hollow. “I, too, enjoy having my toes licked clean. Perhaps you’ll have the honor of experiencing it firsthand later. Hehehe…”

Moments later…

The quiet morgue was shattered by sharp, desperate screams.

But this time…

The one crying out was no longer the hunter. Long Aotian welcomed his new life as prey.