The Reincarnated Villain Can Break the Fourth Wall!-Chapter 78: Harvesting Contribution Points like a Madman!

"…Does he think he’s a god?"

Bai Yujian muttered, her voice trembling between disbelief and homicidal rage.

Hu Mei’er tilted her head innocently, her eyes glinting with mischief. "It’s impressive, isn’t it? Not every day someone kicks the sect in the nuts like this."

Hu Jiao’er smirked wickedly. "The kid’s got balls, Elder Bai. Giant, shiny ones. Core disciples are even peeking in now, wondering how long he can keep it up. We’re not missing a show like this."

WHOOSH!

Before either of them could blink, Bai Yujian vanished—her figure tearing through the air in a flash of silver light, like a divine sword slicing straight toward the arena.

The twins stared at the empty space where she’d been, the air still buzzing with her lingering aura.

"…She’s pissed," Hu Jiao’er muttered, crossing her arms beneath her chest.

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Hu Mei’er chuckled softly, her voice dripping with amusement. "She’s not as calm as she looks. That new guy’s really shaking up the place. It’s been a while since the sect’s seen someone so… entertaining."

Jiao’er grinned, her eyes narrowing as she watched the arena in the distance. "I’ll give the little villain this—he knows how to make life interesting. If he keeps this up, I might even let him peek down my robes as a reward."

Hu Mei’er rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at her lips. "Only after he earns it."

The distant roar of the crowd shook the air again, echoing across Sword Peak. Somewhere down there, Su Xiaobai was probably grinning like a lunatic, wondering which idiot would come up next.

And high above, Bai Yujian was closing in, her killing intent so heavy it could’ve flattened mountains.

If Su Xiaobai had any sense left in his skull, he’d start running now.

Here she was, burning through her precious time and patience, scouring every corner of the continent to track down his little sister—only to find out this dumb bastard was off stirring up more trouble like a goddamned calamity given human form.

More than that, did he not get it?!

Half the sect already wanted his head on a platter, sharpening their swords and praying to the heavens for the tiniest excuse to gut him. And without her watching his back, that arrogant brat wouldn’t last two breaths before someone turned him into a corpse.

"Does this fool not understand?!" Bai Yujian seethed as she shot through the sky, qi roaring behind her like a comet. I leave him alone for one night—ONE NIGHT—and he’s already challenging half the sect to a death match?!

She could almost see it now—some conniving bastard from another peak shoving a sword through his back the second he got tired, then claiming it was "an accident" while everyone else nodded along like it wasn’t total bullshit.

Bai Yujian’s fingers curled tighter around her parasol as killing intent crackled through the air. "That ungrateful disciple," she hissed. "If anyone kills him, it’ll be me first!"

______

Martial Ascension Arena!

"Hahaha! Who’s next?!"

Su Xiaobai’s voice thundered across the arena, casual as if he were calling dibs on the last dumpling at a banquet. His name blazed on the ranking board, now parked smugly in third place—basically a giant middle finger to the entire sect.

Around him, the stage was a disaster zone: broken limbs, shattered egos, and overworked healers dragging away groaning disciples who had learned the hard way that arrogance doesn’t count as cultivation.

At his feet, Lan Meiyu lay sprawled in the dirt, her once-pristine robes caked in mud. Her hair looked like it had been through a windstorm, and her fists clenched tight as her body trembled—not from fear, but from sheer, unfiltered rage.

"Ugh… You bastard, get off me!" she snarled, her voice dripping with venom.

Su Xiaobai grinned down at her, his foot planted beside her head like he was claiming a mountain peak. "Didn’t you say you’d slap me to death? Go on, Senior Sister, I’m still waiting for that slap."

Lan Meiyu’s face turned the color of a ripe tomato. She had strutted onto this stage intending to grind him into paste. She was no small fry, either—a late-stage Rebirth Realm cultivator, ranked third in the outer court. People trembled at her name!

But now? She was tasting dirt.

The crowd was having the time of their lives.

"Is he really just standing there? What an asshole."

"At least help her up! What kind of barbarian is this?"

"Help her up? The guy probably doesn’t even know what ’help’ means!"

Su Xiaobai ignored the peanut gallery. His gaze swept the crowd, calculating his total loot. Three hundred thousand contribution points. Not bad for a morning’s work.

"Su Xiaobai! Enough of this farce!"

The voice that boomed across the arena could have flattened mountains. Han Xuan, the iron mountain peak lord, was not a man to mess with. Built like a boulder and just as easy to move, his aura practically screamed, Behave, or I’ll grind you into a fine powder.

He had come here for the spectacle but ended up playing referee, keeping the mob from rushing the stage and ending Su Xiaobai in a "tragic accident."

Afterall, left unchecked, the cocky brat was about one step away from inspiring a riot.

"You’ve caused enough mess! Get off the stage before I throw you off myself!"

Su Xiaobai arched an eyebrow, completely unfazed. "Mess? I’m just following the sect rules, Elder Han. They challenge me; I fight. I win, I take their points. Isn’t that how it works?"

The crowd exchanged uneasy glances. Technically, he wasn’t wrong. But there’s "following the rules," and then there’s what Su Xiaobai was doing. The guy wasn’t just fighting; he was systematically bulldozing through the entire outer court.

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At first, it had been funny. A cocky disciple taking on a handful of challengers? Classic. But then he started taking down hundreds. When he moved on to the top ten ranked disciples, it stopped being funny and became terrifying.

Now only the top two outer court disciples remained. Or rather, they had remained. Both had conveniently ’remembered important appointments’ and bolted before Su Xiaobai could humiliate them too.

"This guy hasn’t even used his puppet yet," someone muttered.

Han Xuan stiffened. He’d noticed it too. At the edge of the stage stood Su Xiaobai’s infamous trump card—a puppet in the form of a girl, its combat abilities so devastating it could mop the floor with entire teams of disciples. And yet, it had remained idle the entire time.

"This monster…" Han Xuan muttered under his breath.

Su Xiaobai stretched lazily, his hands on his hips as he scanned the crowd like a predator eyeing fresh prey.

’Three hundred thousand points isn’t enough… I need more.’

Thanks to his celestial inscriber’s skills, he had already drawn combat arrays mid-fight, conserving energy and smashing challengers like it was child’s play. Against Mystic Peak disciples, he’d had to put in some effort. But these outer court amateurs?

They couldn’t even spell "f.o.r.m.a.t.i.o.n.s."

Still, there was a problem.

Even after all this, he wasn’t close to the ’million points’ he needed to ’retry’ the Astral Gate Array.

Yesterday’s failure still stung, and if he had to crush every idiot in this sect to succeed, so be it.

The only question was… who to crush next?