Inside Ju Zi—though calling it a prison wasn’t quite right.

More like a detention room for minor offenders.

Following the suited man’s steps, Qin Cheng took in the whole place before reaching his destination.

He stopped outside Yu Zhe’s cell. Thanks to his obedient cooperation, Yu Zhe had been placed in a low-security room. Through the window, Qin Cheng saw him alone inside.

“Huh…”

Qin Cheng gave a slight nod, studying Yu Zhe.

Ordinary-looking, yet with well-proportioned features—the kind who grew more appealing the longer you looked.

Yu Zhe sat by the bed, hands pressed to his forehead, lost in thought, unaware his nemesis stood watching.

He still wore the same simple clothes from the day he’d injured the original body’s owner—no prison uniform yet.

Above his head hovered a shimmering golden border with intricate patterns, enclosing two characters:

[Protagonist]

“Young Master Qin…”

The suited man turned to speak, but Qin Cheng waved him off.

Eyes narrowed, he locked onto the glowing border…

If he wasn’t mistaken, a majestic ethereal golden dragon phantom drifted faintly around it.

[True Son of Heaven?]

Qin Cheng stroked his chin, a hint of confusion in his gaze.

In his past life, his world had seen such omens too.

Those marked by a golden dragon’s presence usually became dynasty founders or regional overlords—figures of immense heavenly fortune.

They were called True Sons of Heaven.

Even unripe, their talent stunned observers; fully grown, they became nightmares to rivals.

Qin Cheng once, relying on supreme cultivation, hunted down such a True Son of Heaven—but it was grueling.

Every time he nearly struck the killing blow, someone intervened: reclusive masters, dynasty generals, ancient spirit artifacts… endless nuisances.

After seven or eight relentless pursuits, he finally severed the man’s head—nearly breaking his own spirit.

Their cultivation gap spanned countless realms. One strike should’ve ended it. Yet the man kept escaping.

As Qin Cheng stared, the golden dragon atop Yu Zhe’s head twisted its face in human-like disgust. Its head swiveled toward him.

ROAR!!!

A violent roar pierced his mind. Agony exploded behind his eyes. Face contorted, Qin Cheng clutched his head and stumbled back.

“Young Master Qin?! What’s wrong?!” The suited man caught him, worry sharp in his voice.

Gritting his teeth, Qin Cheng forced his eyes open. His glare—wolf-like, vicious—locked onto the distant dragon, burning with fury and madness.

How dare this mere dragon aura show contempt… and wound him?!

The roar faltered, surprised by this “insolent commoner’s” defiance. Then the dragon locked eyes again. Divine, overwhelming, it roared once more.

ROAR!!!

“Ugh…”

His arm, previously clutching his abdomen, now pressed hard against his chest. As if struck by an invisible fist, he coughed up blood—crimson splattering his shirt, face pale.

Yet his eyes held zero retreat. Only fiercer rage.

Unseen by Qin Cheng, the border above his head—[Failed Antagonist]—had silently shifted to [Antagonist].

Faintly, a small shadowy black wolf phantom emerged. Its cunning eyes fixed on the golden dragon. Back arched high, black fur bristling with raw fear.

The dragon’s disgust flared. *Greed Wolf trespassing upon Ziwei—must be purged!*

Its oppressive aura crushed down. Under the roar, the black wolf phantom bled invisible wounds, utterly dominated.

But at the final moment, the dragon halted. Bored, it curled wearily. Its form faded—casting Qin Cheng one last disdainful glance before vanishing.

“Hah… hah… quite the warning shot…”

Leaning on the suited man, Qin Cheng gasped, hand pressed to his chest. A trace of hatred now sharpened his gaze toward Yu Zhe.

“Young Master Qin, hospital?” The man, seeing nothing, fretted only for his health.

“No. I’m fine.”

Waving him off, Qin Cheng trembled toward the door, bracing against the wall. Through the glass, he watched Yu Zhe. The fury in his eyes vanished.

Only dead-water calm remained.

*“You didn’t kill me… I’ll make you pay for this, you little worm.”*

His Majesty the Demon Sovereign had not felt this sting of humiliation since youth.

The one who once scorned him? The Demon Sovereign grew in silence. One day, he beheaded that man and hung the head where the insult occurred.

Weeds on that grave must be waist-high by now.