The Extreme Alchemist of the Mighty Cauldron - Chapter 134 - : Beating him until even his mother can ‘t recognize him

The protagonist, Punk, is a cautious, cold-blooded, and ruthless Mage.

His goal is always his top priority, over feelings or morality. When unnecessary, he doesn’t like to act like pigs to eat tigers; there are almost no life and death struggles, sometimes risky but steady progress. No strong enemy everywhere, Instead, Punk is always a strong enemy of others.

And he has a very keen interest in the secrets and teachings of the Netheril civilization.

Blessed by the heavens, Su Yang was born with an extraordinarily handsome appearance that could sway even the coldest beauties and innate sword talents that would make even the Sword Emperor green with envy.Su Yang thought for the longest that he would spend his life swinging a sword, but little did he know that fate had something entirely different in store for him.Instead of swinging a sword, he would be thrusting a different kind of ‘sword’. Rather than perfecting his sword techniques, he would be learning massage techniques.This is a story of how a sword prodigy ended up walking the path of dual cultivation and becoming the most powerful dual cultivator under heaven.--------------Note: This novel is the prequel to Dual Cultivation, but it doesn't require any knowledge from Dual Cultivation to understand so anyone can start reading without worry. Some terms/plots might differ from Dual Cultivation.

At dawn.The light of dawn lingered, hesitant to arrive, while the remnants of the setting sun had long faded into darkness. Within the city shrouded in thin mist, the hidden churches in the shadows, veins clinging to the cracks in walls, the gnawing sounds echoing from the sewers, and the murmuring shadows...A lantern bearer strolled forward.

...[Inside an underground basement]“You are going to die for nothing, hahahaha,” the old man's voice thundered through the room, sending chills down my spine.Step.With a swift and ruthless motion, he lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air and slashing my throat, crimson droplets staining the darkness.“We'll see,” I whispered defiantly, my final words escaping as a mere breath against the impending darkness.Slowly, inexorably, my consciousness slipped away, and I descended into a deep, unfathomable slumber.“Huh!?” My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself seated in a bustling tavern, the air thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses.In front of me stood a captivating lady, her beauty juxtaposed with an angry furrow upon her brow, threatening to shatter the harmony of the jovial scene.“Don't follow me around!” Her words pierced the air like shards of ice, the intensity of her emotions palpable as she cast a resentful glare in my direction, before swiftly departing from the tavern....Am I trapped within the confines of a game? The fragments of my shattered common sense scattered before me, leaving me to question the very fabric of my reality.