Chapter 436: Top Players Can't Sit Still, Joining the Betting Game
In the boy's black-and-white eyes, there was no anger, no hatred, no excess emotion.
He came from the [Warring States World], and his name was Qin Wang Zheng (Ying Zheng).
Since childhood, he had been abandoned by his father, serving as a hostage in Zhao for nine years, enduring relentless humiliation. He had long grown used to the cold and cruelty of the world.
He placed no expectations on anyone—not the Lü Buwei who rescued him and brought him back to Qin, not even his mother who had once huddled with him in hardship.
So even when Lü Buwei monopolized the court, when his mother and Lao Ai plotted to kill him and enthrone a new king, when his younger brother betrayed him, and the entire court watched silently and played political games…
None of it could shake him.
"Fortunately, Lao Ai and Mother ignored me, and Lü Buwei underestimated me—giving me the chance to master every secret art."
Ying Zheng looked at the terracotta soldier he had created, sitting atop its shoulder as it walked toward a nearby village.
Yin-Yang Clan Secret Technique—Creation.
Though called a "secret technique," it was but a minor trick—something yin-yang practitioners used to amuse children while traveling.
It consumed energy to craft crude clay dolls.
Even so, despite being constantly watched, Ying Zheng had studied it freely.
And...
While no one noticed, he had cultivated this humble art to an extraordinary level.
What should've been a fragile figurine, now forged by his hands, was as sturdy as stone, capable of fighting and completely under his control.
Such talent—
Had it been discovered by the Yin-Yang Clan, he would have been hailed as a prodigy and recommended to the elders as their heir.
Even Lü Buwei, or his mother seeking new favor, would've happily sent him away from the Qin palace to become the next master of the Yin-Yang Clan.
But from beginning to end, Ying Zheng said nothing.
He didn't want to be a disciple, nor a clan heir.
He wanted to be a beast tamer.
Qin was the crane. The six states were cranes. The world was a crane...
Reincarnation Game?
It was a pleasant surprise at best. Even without it, Ying Zheng was confident he could rule Qin and sweep the world.
But still—it was a massive boon that could help him fulfill his ambitions early.
In a ruined village,
a horde of man-eating demons roamed.
Ying Zheng, expressionless, as if unaware of the danger, directed his terracotta soldier straight into their midst without concealing his presence.
Tsunade gasped, "Is he insane?"
Akainu, who had previously seemed concerned, now sneered, "If he dies, he's got no one to blame but himself."
Top players all turned to watch.
They hadn't expected the rookie rising fastest on the leaderboard to charge headlong into a horde of monsters.
These monsters scaled with player strength. Even the supremely powerful Holy Lord had to rely on demonic bloodlines to crush enemies of the same level.
Even he would flee when faced with more than ten monsters at once.
And this black-haired boy was facing them head-on.
Mei sighed, shaking her head. "He's got talent, sure—but poor judgment. Did a few easy kills make him overconfident?"
She had thought she'd picked a winner, but now it looked like her bet would go up in smoke.
Whitebeard's sharp eyes narrowed. "There are two Gluttonous Aberrants in there. Not your average demons."
His Ghost Slayer Corps had close ties with the Claymore world, so he knew their monsters.
The Gluttonous Aberrant was a unique demon—voracious, much stronger than ordinary types.
If the boy had a chance to run before, now it was gone.
His trial would end here.
Just as Whitebeard looked away, the terracotta soldier carrying Ying Zheng drew near the monsters.
Shlick!
A demon's claw pierced a chest.
But it was the chest of another demon—not the boy's guardian, nor the boy himself.
Blood sprayed.
The horde roared.
The terracotta soldier's heavy legs flowed with a greenish aura, weaving through the monsters like an eel in water.
Under Ying Zheng's command, it slipped away from every attack.
Ironically, the demons injured one another more than they hurt him.
Taoist Art—Flowing Cloud Step.
A light martial art used by noble scions to climb garden rockeries and perform elegant leaps—essentially, a party trick.
So minor that Reincarnation Game didn't even categorize it as a basic skill.
But in Ying Zheng's hands, it was like a skill upgraded with countless enhancement scrolls.
"Raaaagh!"
The two Gluttonous Aberrants howled, enclosing Ying Zheng between them,
drooling, their claws slashing toward him.
They weren't dumb. They knew the real target was the boy on the soldier's shoulder, so they went straight for the kill.
Splurt!
Meat tore. Blood flew. The claws shredded their mark—
—only to find it was clay.
Heads turned in shock.
Tsunade gasped, "So that's what gave him confidence! Turning such a basic skill into an art... if he were in the ninja world, he'd be like Minato, mastering technique to its limit."
Aokiji was stunned too, shaking his head. "Without the aberrants, he could've danced through that whole pack of demons."
"Incredible talent,"
Akainu muttered, eyes narrowing as he sent messages to the Navy Intelligence Division.
That black-haired rookie must be recruited.
The pirate world's battles were all about brute force. Even skilled fighters used little technique.
Ying Zheng, a master of subtlety and deception, was the perfect counter to their style.
If he joined the Navy, they'd gain a weapon against internal threats.
"When he becomes my disciple, I'll break that cocky streak out of him,"
Akainu thought.
Powerful and gifted—but reckless. Charging into battle without fully assessing his enemy.
That carelessness meant he couldn't finish the trial or open the reward chests.
"Fake?"
One Gluttonous Aberrant's eyes widened.
The feel of tearing Ying Zheng apart had been wrong. Not flesh—but hardened clay.
Boom!
The terracotta soldier's chest opened.
A pale arm reached out, driving a molded clay blade through the monster's skull.
The second aberrant realized too late.
With its ally gone, it couldn't stop Ying Zheng from slicing it down.
In moments, the demon-infested village was a graveyard.
The black-haired boy, still expressionless, bent to pick up a reward chest.
The top players stared, stunned.
"He was a decoy the whole time?"
"That's why he sat on the shoulder. Such primitive constructs can't act on their own—but he used it as a disguise!"
Classic strategy.
But what made it rare—
was how convincingly Ying Zheng pulled it off with nothing more than a crude white-tier skill.
Even top players hadn't seen through the ruse.
That level of control... that mastery of magical constructs...
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