Hatred Is Love Taken to the Extreme - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I had to think of a way.

After staying completely silent for more than half a month, the System finally resurfaced and began earnestly trying to persuade me.

[H-Host…]

[You’re pushing yourself too hard. You were only twenty-two when you first arrived in the Cultivation World. You inherited the original owner’s identity and were merely a minor Qi Condensation cultivator. But now, before you’ve even turned fifty, you’ve already reached the peak of the Soul Formation Realm…]

[Jiang Yilan began cultivating as a child. He entered Qi Condensation at seven, Foundation Establishment at ten, Golden Core at fourteen, and Nascent Soul at nineteen. His talent is unrivaled, making him a genius rarely seen even once in ten thousand years in the Cultivation World. Yet at fifty, he had only reached the late stage of the Soul Formation Realm…]

The System’s voice was filled with wonder, along with a hint of envy toward me.

My fingers curled into a fist. “The weak either die here or end up as human cauldrons.”

The System whispered, […Host, I also wanted to say that your face is far too perfect. If you’d been even a little uglier, you wouldn’t have had to work so hard to hide in the beginning…]

I raised my eyes and stared coldly at the young man reflected in the bronze mirror. He had a face of devastating beauty.

His features were strikingly vivid and exquisite, beautiful to an almost bewitching degree. His peach-blossom eyes were clearly devoid of emotion, as cold as a frozen pool, yet they naturally carried an alluring charm and an irresistible magnetism, along with the imperious arrogance of someone looking down on the world.

Before I transmigrated into this book, my skills in the modern world had been more than enough to deal with anyone who coveted me.

And if all else failed, I could always call my brothers for backup.

But after arriving in the Cultivation World, I had no friends or family, and the combat skills I’d once prided myself on were utterly useless.

Even a Foundation Establishment cultivator could beat me like I was a child.

My original body had also been overlaid with one of the original owner’s traits: the Extreme Yin Constitution.

Low cultivation, a face beautiful enough to spell disaster, and a constitution perfectly suited to being used as a human cauldron…

Those cultivators swarmed toward me like disgusting leeches scenting blood.

Disguising myself was completely useless. Cultivators whose cultivation far surpassed mine could see through it with ease.

Before I found a spiritual artifact capable of concealing my appearance, I’d lost count of how many times I slashed my own face, only for the powerful regenerative ability I’d brought from the modern world to forcibly heal every wound…

Lust.

Plunder.

Pursuit.

Escape.

Killing my pursuers.

Cultivating as if my life depended on it.

Falling into the Demon Realm and surviving one near-death experience after another…

That had been my daily life for more than twenty years after arriving in the Cultivation World.

Even now that I was the Demon Lord, ruler of the entire Demon Realm, there was hardly a moment when I let down my guard.

At the thought, I wearily rubbed the space between my brows.

The divine artifact had fallen into Jiang Yilan’s hands. Taking it from him would be no easier than taking it from a guardian beast in the Tribulation Transcendence Realm.

So I decided to give up.

I turned my attention to the affairs that had recently piled up in the Demon Palace.

A demon attendant served me tea, then withdrew with lowered eyes.

Two hours later, the attendant’s cautious voice came from outside.

“My Lord, Yao Emperor Lian Ji requests an audience.”

Without looking up, I said, “I’m not seeing him.”

The moment the words left my mouth, the hall doors were blasted open by a wave of force.

I looked up.

A tall, slender figure stood in the doorway.

The man had silver hair and crimson eyes. He possessed a chilling, wicked beauty, and his voice was laced with teasing amusement.

“This emperor came here in person, yet you think you can simply refuse to see me? Is this how you treat your guests, Demon Lord?”

I set down my brush and looked at him coldly. “Lian Ji, do you have nothing fucking better to do?”

Lian Ji dropped into the chair beside me as if he were lounging in his own garden. He picked up a spirit fruit from my desk and began chomping away, his voice muffled by the food.

“I can’t believe you’re still sitting here. News came from the Cultivation World that the divine artifact fell into Jiang Yilan’s hands. He’s already used its power to break through to the Late Mahayana Stage…”

I said, “So?”

Lian Ji’s eyes widened. “Ji Fen, your cultivation was already below his! You’re still in the Soul Formation Realm, and now he’s broken through again. Isn’t he going to beat you to death?!”

“…Killing me won’t be that easy.”

A manic smile spread across my face. “Even if I die, I’ll drag him down with me!”

“I regret it now.”

“Last time, I should’ve crippled his cultivation and chopped off his legs. I should’ve turned him into an invalid and locked him in the basement of the Demon Palace instead of letting him compete with me for the divine artifact!”

And he even got to ** me!

Lian Ji gave me a thumbs-up. “…Thank goodness you two lunatics torment each other. Otherwise, you’d be tormenting the entire Six Realms.”

I asked, “So why did you come to the Demon Realm?”

Lian Ji replied, “To warn you, obviously!”

“…I think you really do have nothing better to do.”

Lian Ji sniffed around my Demon Palace like a dog, helping himself to quite a few of my spirit herbs and pills, along with fruits found exclusively in the Demon Realm.

He was my friend, after all, and he’d also played a part in helping me claim the position of Demon Lord, so I let him be.

I’d assumed he would take what he wanted and immediately get lost.

Instead, he kept nagging in my ear. “You’re just too stubborn. All you have to do is back down once in a while. If he provokes you, just swallow your pride and walk away. But no, you have to get yourself covered in wounds every single time. It hurts me just looking at you…”

“Get lost.”

“…You got it.”