Chapter 103: Dealing with Problematic People Is Indeed Simpler Than Dealing with Problems!
Zhang Yangqing had assumed the guard was reaching for a weapon, so he casually sliced him down.
Only after the deed did he realize—Oh, this guy was just trying to sound the alarm.
Well… my bad, friend. If you ever meet me in your next life, just give me a heads-up before pulling the alarm. I promise I won’t cut you down.
At least not before you pull it.
But this time? Too late. What’s done is done.
The blaring alarm instantly roused nearly every landlord in the estate.
This was exactly why Scarface was so stunned when he saw what was happening.
He had assumed Zhang Yangqing would take the stealthy approach—like an assassin in the rain, using the downpour’s noise to mask his movements as he picked off targets one by one.
Silently eliminating everyone inside.
After all, if Zhang Yangqing could kill four Savage Specters, he surely had the ability to instantly take out four or five at a time.
A methodical, step-by-step approach would be safer—no way he could handle more than that.
When Scarface saw Zhang Yangqing dispatch the guard who was about to trigger the alarm, it seemed to confirm his theory: This guy’s here to assassinate.
But then—Zhang Yangqing actively set off the alarm himself.
What the hell?
Bro, even if you’re strong, a lone tiger can’t fend off a pack of wolves!
“Boss, what do we do now?”
An older landlord eyed Zhang Yangqing’s reckless move with unease. He wasn’t exactly thrilled with Zhang Yangqing’s methods—or his attitude in general.
He suggested activating Plan B: while Zhang Yangqing drew everyone’s attention, they could sneak in.
Just as Scarface hesitated, the scrawny black-clad thief spoke up:
“I think we should trust our partner completely. If he didn’t have the skills, he wouldn’t be drawing this much heat. I can tell—he wants to wrap this up in one go to save time. What if he catches us sneaking around and gets pissed? What then?”
The mere mention of what then sent a chill through the group.
Seeing how effortlessly Zhang Yangqing had cut down the guard, fear settled in their hearts.
Even if we regain our former strength, how do we compare to the four landlords he slaughtered on the mountain?
He killed them without breaking a sweat.
So for now, the best choice was to watch and wait.
Scarface agreed with the thief’s reasoning—finally, someone was making sense.
And thanks to this intervention, they narrowly avoided a third massacre.
Given Zhang Yangqing’s temperament, now that he knew how to obtain the item needed to become a landlord, it was best not to annoy him.
Anything that displeased him would be met with swift annihilation.
At that moment, Zhang Yangqing found himself surrounded by a horde of Savage Specters.
He had already strolled through the wide corridor and entered the estate’s grand reception hall—a spacious area fit for high-society banquets.
Unhurried, Zhang Yangqing took a seat on a sofa, watching as landlords closed in around him.
He didn’t seem the least bit concerned.
In fact, he almost looked bored—as if he couldn’t be bothered to act unless enough opponents showed up.
The global audience was thoroughly entertained.
At this hour, most other challengers were holed up in their rooms, too terrified to step outside.
Yet here was this guy, still out and about, giving everyone a show.
Especially the viewers from Longguo, who eagerly speculated on how Zhang Yangqing planned to deal with this pack of Savage Specters.
[Comments Section]
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Did a quick count—over sixty Savage Specters. Finally, we’ll see Zhang Tian Shi stand up and fight!
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Not necessarily. He said “thirty people.” These things probably don’t even qualify as “people” in his eyes.
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Analyzing Zhang Tian Shi’s words, he compared them to ants. Definitely not human.
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He should wrap this up fast. If it drags past midnight, things might get messy.
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Relax, the black mist is nothing. His golden light counters it perfectly.
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My only worry is that he might go overboard. I’m not concerned about him losing.
As the discussion raged on, the estate’s landlords had gathered in full force.
Most seemed present, though likely not all.
“Such audacity! How dare you barge in here? Where are the guards? Useless!”
A landlord with donkey ears screeched at Zhang Yangqing.
“The guards must’ve been dealt with. But whose prey is this guy? He doesn’t look like a landlord.”
“Kid, if you are a landlord, show us your mark. Otherwise, don’t blame us for eating you alive.”
Compared to the landlords outside, a few here were slightly sharper.
They reasoned that if this intruder had made it inside, he must have some skill.
If he was one of their own, killing him by mistake could cause problems.
Their new leader had strictly forbidden infighting.
Seeing that enough had gathered, Zhang Yangqing finally rose to his feet.
“Your leader hasn’t shown up, has he?”
Zhang Yangqing was too lazy to hunt them down individually. Hence, the alarm.
Normally, a pack of beasts like this would have an alpha—otherwise, order wouldn’t be possible.
The donkey-eared specter burst into mocking laughter.
“You? Meet our boss? Only over our dead bodies!”
“As you wish.”
Zhang Yangqing’s voice was soft, yet it cut through the chaos, reaching every ear in the hall.
The donkey-eared specter had no idea his taunt would doom them all.
A golden radiance erupted in the hall—Zhang Yangqing blazed like a miniature sun, purging all impurities in its wake.
BOOM!
The entire mountain range trembled. The estate shook violently.
Even Scarface and his group, hundreds of meters away, felt the shockwave of overwhelming power.
Zhang Yangqing was holding back.
The once-luxurious hall was now a sea of blood and dismembered limbs.
Surveying the carnage, Zhang Yangqing sighed in disappointment.
“Without hand seals, I really can’t control my power effectively. Shifu… have I failed you?”
The audience on Blue Planet might not grasp the weight of his words, but his fellow disciples on Dragon-Tiger Mountain were losing it.
Zhang Xuanjing, mid-sip of water, nearly choked to death.
“Cough—cough—Is the Heavenly Master trying to humblebrag? If he can’t control his power, what does that make the rest of us?”
If the specters could hear this, they’d be speechless. Zhang Xuanjing, however, was on the verge of a qi deviation.
To him, Zhang Yangqing was just flexing.
You’re already this overpowered, and you’re complaining about control?
He couldn’t even imagine what would happen if Zhang Yangqing went all out.
…Did our master die from sheer frustration because of this guy?
A junior disciple nearby mused, “Brother Xuanjing has a point. Doesn’t it feel like the Heavenly Master has gotten even stronger after these two runs? Or is it just me?”
Zhang Xuanjing paled. “What? He’s already this strong—how can he improve further?”
Another disciple chimed in with wild speculation: “I think the Heavenly Master has always sealed his power, releasing it gradually. But now, there’s too much—he can’t control it.”
Zhang Xuanjing fretted, “Then what? Will he explode from overload?”
THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!
Su Muyu smacked all three on the head.
Rolling his eyes, he said, “Stop talking nonsense. He’s just showing off.”
Su Muyu knew Zhang Yangqing well enough—the man had a flair for dramatic understatement.
Zhang Yangqing’s complaint stemmed from dissatisfaction.
His display was too powerful—yet still fell short of his expectations.
Hence, the self-deprecating remark.
To Su Muyu, it was pure, unadulterated bragging.
At first, he hadn’t realized it.
But now?
Oh, he’s definitely showing off.
…..
The estate quaked, but the sturdy architecture held firm.
Zhang Yangqing had chosen this spot precisely because it wasn’t part of the rental properties.
If it collapsed? So be it.
He could always ditch the mission.
He was here for fun.
In the lavish villa at the estate’s rear, a massive figure stirred awake.
The alarm hadn’t reached this secluded area.
The hulking man, groggy and irritable, roared:
“Those worthless idiots! What’s with the ruckus? I ought to slaughter them all!”
It was an empty threat—until the door swung open.
“No need. I’ve already handled it for you.”
Zhang Yangqing strolled in, utterly nonchalant, as if danger didn’t exist.
His gaze swept the room, landing on the shelves lined with seals—landlord insignias.
The man rising from the bed was clearly the ruler here.
He looked entirely human, with no monstrous traits.
Perhaps his sheer strength made him immune to the seals’ corrupting influence.
Like Scarface, even without his powers, his physique was formidable.
Leadership wasn’t just about special abilities—raw power mattered too.
Through Zhang Yangqing’s eyes, the audience realized the villa’s ceiling soared ten meters high, the space vast.
Not out of luxury—but necessity.
The man sitting on the bed was already 2.5 meters tall.
His muscles bulged like mountains. Each breath sent shockwaves through the room.
“Gasping like an ox” was an understatement.
His eyes alone exuded terrifying pressure.
Every viewer recognized him—the final boss of this nightmare.
Excitement buzzed.
Zhang Yangqing’s earlier fights had been too one-sided.
Now, he might actually have to try.
The two locked eyes in silence.
Then Zhang Yangqing frowned.
“Aren’t you going to fight?”
The question deflated the giant like a punctured balloon.
He flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, resigned.
“Because I can’t beat you.”
His tone was lifeless—utter surrender.
Zhang Yangqing’s interest piqued.
“Oh? How do you know without trying?”
The muscular man waved a hand.
“Won’t work. Not to boast, but only those at the threshold can sense how strong you really are.”
This single line sent shockwaves through the audience.
Everyone knew Zhang Yangqing was strong—but how strong?
No one had a reference point.
He slaughtered everything effortlessly.
In his presence, all were equal—equally doomed.
But the boss’s words hinted at something deeper.
To gauge Zhang Yangqing’s strength, he must be formidable too.
Only the strong could recognize true strength.
In this nightmare’s lore, he was likely designed as an “invincible” entity.
Yet Zhang Yangqing existed on a higher plane—so far beyond that fighting was pointless.
He’d started to rise, then sensed the futility and gave up.
This was the “unstoppable” foe of a three-star difficulty—and he fled without a fight.
Longguo’s analysts had been right: Zhang Yangqing had entered too early.
Zhang Yangqing chuckled. “You’re interesting.”
The boss blinked. “You’re not killing me?”
“Why would I? I don’t kill for sport.”
It was the truth. Zhang Yangqing was here for fun.
Annoy him, and you died.
But this guy?
He’d done nothing but surrender.
Zhang Yangqing’s true terror lay here.
Other challengers feared triggering specter aggression.
But in Zhang Yangqing’s runs, the specters feared triggering his aggression.
In a way, he was the rule.
Seeing a way out, the boss sat up.
“Then… what should I do?”
“Tell me how the seals work, and you can leave. I won’t kill you.”
“Deal.”
The boss laid out everything—how the landlord insignias functioned.
Zhang Yangqing disliked branding his skin. Could he stamp his clothes instead?
The boss confirmed it—the mark wouldn’t fade, but losing the item meant losing landlord status.
Most branded themselves to avoid misplacement.
Zhang Yangqing had asked first because he didn’t fully trust Scarface.
Scarface had only mentioned obtaining a seal—not the specifics.
Whether intentional or not, Zhang Yangqing wasn’t taking chances.
In nightmares, caution saved lives.
If Scarface betrayed him later, he’d be stuck.
“You’re really just leaving?”
Zhang Yangqing almost seemed to encourage him to fight.
“Heeding advice keeps you alive.”
With that, the boss threw on a raincoat, leaped out the window, and fled the estate without a backward glance.
As if fearing Zhang Yangqing might change his mind.
Thus, the three-star nightmare’s final boss escaped without a fight.
He knew running immediately meant death.
Only Zhang Yangqing’s mercy spared him.
The audience realized a pattern:
Only the ignorant dared fight Zhang Yangqing.
If this boss was the nightmare’s strongest, then the Wax Museum’s beautiful specter (who also refused to fight despite taunts) must have been its boss too.
And the Traveling Horror’s boss? Likely lurked in the slaughterhouse—which Zhang Yangqing had skipped.
Longguo’s viewers were torn.
They craved to see Zhang Yangqing’s full power—yet feared the consequences.
The global chat, however, was pure chaos.
[World Chat]
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LMAO the boss was too scared to fight! (IP: Chosun)
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Is this guy Blue Planet’s strongest superhuman now? (IP: Kangaroo)
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Doubt it. Our Scarlet Cardinal hasn’t even appeared. The Pope reigns supreme. Nations compete in late-game depth. Longguo’s wasting their ace early. (IP: Pasta)
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Exactly! Not saying he’s weak, but… (IP: Baguette)
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What “depth”? What does our country even have? (IP: Eagle)
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Your history’s a blink. Gene engineering? Trying to make a Hulk? (IP: Baguette)
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Superman or Spider-Man. Hulk’s too unstable. (IP: Eagle)
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Whatever. Build them first. (IP: Tea)
Many high-ranking nations shared this sentiment.
Early stages were for probing—sacrificial pawns.
Mid-stage: stabilize with reliable players.
Endgame? That’s where true heritage mattered.
Despite the global chat’s migration frenzy, most were just noise.
Nightmares didn’t erase cities—they spawned horrors within.
Major powers could endure.
The final survivor would dominate Blue Planet.
Until nine consecutive losses, few leaders panicked.
But they believed Longguo had squandered their late-game potential.
No way this Taoist priest can keep entering, right?
He’ll slip up eventually.
Late-stage nightmares scale. He can’t keep clowning like this.
Longguo’s higher-ups knew this too—but early entries were random.
What could they do?
Yet no analyst realized:
Those who cleared with S-rank or higher only grew stronger.
The S-rank survivors were cunning.
Rahman, Miller, the Veteran stayed silent.
Jones might not have noticed—or no one asked.
Zhang Yangqing?
He never got the chance to explain—he was back in already!
Inside the nightmare, Zhang Yangqing paid no mind to outside opinions.
With the estate cleared and the boss gone, he summoned Scarface’s group.
The nine entered, gaping at the sea of corpses.
Holy hell. Good thing we didn’t rush in. What if this guy had slaughtered us too?
Scarface led Zhang Yangqing to the seal chamber, explaining their use.
Following their deal, he reclaimed his own seal, branding himself.
Instantly, his body swelled to three meters, his aura terrifying.
Meanwhile, the fleeing ex-boss shrank to Scarface’s former size.
Stripped of his seal, he was just another specter—no match for the new Scarface.
The scrawny thief’s seal transformed him too—his nose and mouth jutting forward, resembling a rat.
The once-furtive nine now radiated menace.
Flexing their restored power, they reveled in their regained forms.
“Thank you, brother, for helping us reclaim our strength.”
Scarface wasn’t ungrateful. Even at full power, he wouldn’t dare cross Zhang Yangqing—the true apex predator.
If the former boss had fled, what chance did he have?
Courtesy was survival.
But Zhang Yangqing wasn’t in the mood for niceties.
“You’ve got your properties back. The rest are mine. Any objections?”
I helped you reclaim yours. Dare ask for more?
You’ll lose more than just houses.
This wasn’t a negotiation—it was a decree.
The older landlord, long resentful of Zhang Yangqing, finally snapped:
“With so many properties, why should you get them all?”
Then—he vanished.
Only a mist of blood remained.
Zhang Yangqing had finally used a hand seal.
Death was instantaneous.
The others stood
