The Scorned Son-in-law? Try Immortal Emperor

004

The thick, freezing fog hung low over the Lin clan’s primary distribution warehouse, swallowing the dim light of the overhead lanterns. Outside the heavy iron doors, two senior enforcers—the exact men who had bound Lin Feng in frost-iron chains five days ago—sighed as they clinked their wine jars together.

"I'm telling you, that trash son-in-law is probably liquid sludge by now," the larger enforcer, Guard Zhao, laughed boisterously, wiping grease from his mouth. "The Ashen Pits don't leave bones, let alone a cripple."

"And his annoying brat isn't far behind," the second enforcer, Guard Liu, sneered coldly, taking a heavy swig. "She’s barely breathing in the extraction cell right now, whimpering for her dad, though we keep telling her he’s already dead and forgotten."

Hearing those words, the shadows near the alleyway froze, a terrifying, absolute glacier forming inside Lin Feng's chest. A limping, shivering figure stepped slowly out of the thick fog, leaning heavily on a weathered wooden staff.

Guard Zhao blinked, dropping his wine jar as it shattered against the cobblestones, his eyes widening in brief shock. "What the hell? Is that... Lin Feng? How are you still breathing, trash?"

"Well, look at that," Guard Liu spat, recovering his composure and drawing his gleaming iron sword with a cruel laugh. "The execution canyon must have rejected your filthy peasant blood. Even hell didn't want to swallow a piece of garbage like you."

"Did you crawl back here to beg for your daughter?" Zhao taunted, stepping forward and intentionally kicking a piece of broken glass toward Lin Feng's feet. "You're too late, cripple. The young master has been using her as a footstool to keep her quiet."

"She cried so much her throat bled, you know," Liu added, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight as he tapped his blade against his palm. "We told her she’s a parentless bastard now and that nobody is coming to save her. She just lies there sobbing."

Lin Feng stood perfectly still, his tattered, blood-stained clothes clinging to his pale skin as he stared at them. His eyes were completely deep and flat, hiding a volcano of pure, unadulterated fury behind a mask of total weakness.

"You should have stayed in the pit, trash," Zhao barked, lunging forward with a sudden, vicious swing meant to take off Lin Feng's arm. "Die again, cripple! This time, I'll make sure you're buried properly!"

Lin Feng didn't retreat. He simply tapped the base of his wooden staff against the cobblestone, subtly releasing a microscopic thread of gravity-altering Nether Qi. The air pressure in the alleyway instantly multiplied by ten thousand, turning thick as lead.

The two enforcers froze mid-air, their swords shattering into absolute dust under the sudden, crushing weight. Their eyes bulged with primitive horror as they were slammed violently into the ground, the stones cracking beneath their chests.

"What... what kind of sorcery is this?" Zhao wheezed, his face pressed against the dirt as he struggled to lift his head. "You're a cripple! You don't have spiritual energy! This is just a trick, a forbidden artifact!"

"Brother, use the pill!" Liu screamed through his teeth, his bones groaning under the invisible pressure. "Kill this monster!"

With a desperate, roaring surge of willpower, Zhao forced his hand into his robe, crushing a forbidden Crimson-Life Pill. The forbidden medicine instantly burned away ten years of his lifespan, unleashing an explosive, blood-red aura that temporarily broke the gravity lock.

"I don't care what treasure you stole from the abyss!" Zhao bellowed, his muscles tearing and swelling as he swung a fist coated in boiling, blood-red Qi straight at Lin Feng's face. "A piece of trash will always be trash!"

Lin Feng didn't even blink as the massive fist rushed toward him. He simply reached out a single, pale hand, catching the giant, blood-red fist with his bare fingers as if it were a falling leaf.

The collision caused a small shockwave, but Lin Feng's arm didn't move a single millimeter, his expression deathly calm. Zhao’s triumphant smile instantly froze, his face turning completely pale as he realized his full-power strike was totally useless.

"Is that all your forbidden power can do?" Lin Feng whispered, his voice sounding like a freezing wind from the deepest underworld.

He squeezed his fingers slightly, and a sickening crunch echoed through the alley as Zhao’s entire hand was crushed into bloody pulp. Zhao shrieked in absolute agony, falling to his knees as the blood-red aura shattered like glass.

"Please! Mercy! Master Lin, have mercy!" Liu began to wail from the ground, weeping openly as he crawled toward Lin Feng's feet. "We were just following orders! The Patriarch forced us! The young master forced us!"

"When my six-year-old daughter begged you for mercy in the mud, did you grant it?" Lin Feng asked, his voice entirely devoid of human warmth.

He stepped forward, completely ignoring their frantic, terrified pleas as they begged for their lives. With two swift, precise strikes, he crushed their windpipes, the impact rendering them unable to draw breath. Their bodies slumped as a dark crimson stain seeped from the corners of their mouths, their struggles growing increasingly faint.

"Taste a fraction of my hell, you dogs," Lin Feng hissed, watching their eyes roll back as his cold Qi flooded their systems, permanently shattering their internal cores and severing their connection to their cultivation. "This is just the interest for Nina's tears."

The light faded from their eyes as they collapsed onto the ground, their forms becoming still and lifeless in the cold shadows of the alley.

[Ding! Two core enforcers neutralized. Cultivation base absorbed. Transforming essence into pure Ashen Nether Qi.]

"Master Jiu warned me to hide," Lin Feng whispered into the dark alley, his fingers gripping his staff until the wood groaned. "But you fools needed to taste my wrath first. The rest of the Lin clan will follow."

To ensure the clan remained entirely confused and didn't suspect a high-level cultivator, Lin Feng moved swiftly into the storehouse. He used a tiny spark of his Nether flame to subtly ignite the warehouse’s highly unstable fire-crystals from the inside out.

"Let them think it was an accident," he muttered, slipping away into the thick fog just as a massive, thunderous explosion tore through the night, leveling the entire facility. The intense heat vaporized the bodies completely, destroying millions of credits worth of vital assets.

A moment later, the city authorities and the frantic clan elders concluded that the two drunk enforcers had clumsily caused a catastrophic crystal leak. A massive, panicked crowd gathered around the smoking, black crater at the edge of the market district.

"Who did this? Millions in spiritual herbs, gone in an instant!" Patriarch Lin screamed, his face turning purple with rage as he stomped his feet. "Find out who was responsible! I want heads!"

Standing inconspicuously in the back of the crowd, Lin Feng watched the old man rage at the absolute financial disaster. "Rage all you want, old man," Lin Feng thought, a dark smile playing on his lips as his cold eyes fixed on the distant family altar. "Your nightmare has only just begun. Cherish the little time you have left, because the moment I reclaim my daughter, I will personally drag every one of you into hell."