The Reincarnated Villain Can Break the Fourth Wall!

And the river screamed.

Not in sound—but in existence.

The waters twisted like beasts being torn apart, howling in agony, as a sword's will—descended upon it.

KRA-BOOM!

The river parted.

Split down its ancient belly like a divine kunpeng.

Two titanic walls of water surged skyward, roaring like imprisoned dragons set free.

And between it all?

A five-meter-wide path carved through the depths—black stone glistening below, revealed like the riverbed had offered itself in surrender.

"MOVE!"

Su Xiaobai's voice echoed shattering their awe filled faces.

Them — frozen mid-breath, hypnotized by the impossible.

Then they moved.

Su Yiran was the first.

She dashed forward, her feet touching the black path like she was skating across frozen moonlight.

Long Yushen followed, his blade drawn, icy walls rising behind him, spun from Su Yiran's frost Qi—each slab of ice freezing the river's edge as crocodilian demons crashed into it, hissing, trapped.

ZAP—BOOM!

Beibei descended.

The Violet Thunder Crane flared her wings wide, lightning exploding from her feathers in graceful arcs of death.

Beasts leapt from the waves—

They didn't make it.

Flash, screams, smoke and charcoal.

The Ming Twins spun in mid-air, creating wind tunnels, lifting others, vaulting over danger like elegant dancers on a blade's edge.

Even Zhou Ping ran like his sect had promised him a harem on the other side.

And Su Xiaobai?

He stayed last.

He turned on his Draconic Eyes—two slits of molten authority—and saw it clearly:

More than dozens.

Hundreds.

Lurking beneath.

All watching.

Waiting.

One made the mistake of lunging upward—

Su Xiaobai's sword flicked once.

SHHHNK.

It didn't die from injury.

Puchi!

It died because its split from middle.

Then, the path began to shudder.

The river was fighting back.

Walls of water collapsed inward, surging together like a lover reunited with its lost half.

Su Xiaobai's feet tapped the black stone once—BOOM!

He became a blur.

A shadow between waves.

Just as the last few meters remained, the river collapsed.

CRAASH—!!

It slammed shut like a divine gate forged by drowning itself, swallowing Su Xiaobai whole.

Water thundered, devouring the parted path, erasing all trace that it ever existed.

Twelve had entered.

Six made it out.

And one… was gone.

"Ah!" Zhou Ping screamed, almost tripping over his own feet. "HE'S DEAD! HE'S DEAD, RIGHT?!"

Blood surfaced like red ink in moonlight.

Even the Ming twins gasped, Wen Luli looked pale, Ranran's eyes narrowed, a cold glint flashing.

But Long Yushen?

He frowned.

"The beasts… they do not rise."

___

Gurgle… gurgle…

Beneath the river—hell had broken loose.

Crocodilian beasts, dozens strong, had swarmed Su Xiaobai, their teeth shattered against his body, their poison flooded his lungs.

They bit, tore, clenched.

But he didn't drown.

He fought.

His [invincible body] crushed jaws like brittle shells, and as blood and venom injected through his veins, a memory snapped.

Last time poison entered... He burned it out.

Flames…

Right.

He had flames.

He grinned beneath the water, exhaling bubbles of contempt.

FWOOOSH!

Golden light erupted around his hands.

Two gauntlets appeared — The Tyrant Sun Gauntlets, artifacts stolen, never revealed, never used… until now.

They shone—then ignited.

Infernal Flames.

Red, hell unleashed.

Alive.

Flames that licked his arms like affectionate snakes, eager to burn, with sentience, curled tongues of war, whispering through the water like flame vipers searching for flesh.

BOOM!

One punch.

Then another.

Stage Four: Grand Collapsing Fist.

Unleashed underwater, enhanced by gauntlets, empowered by infernal fire.

The result?

"ROARRR!"

The sky above split again.

But not because of sword intent.

Because hell erupted.

Crocodiles—dozens—were launched into the air, flailing like toys.

—BOOM!

Two firebursts followed, red meteor trails, like the volcano gods themselves had vomited their rage.

A wall of fire licked the heavens.

Flames melted birds mid-flight.

Even the sun dimmed slightly in shame.

On the riverbank, the others recoiled as dragon-breath fireballs burst from the water, flooding their vision in blinding light.

The heat struck like dual suns crashing down.

Waves vaporized.

Zhou Ping screamed again, shielding his face. "MY EYEBROWS—!!"

Wen Luli activated her stone-arm skill.

Long Yushen roared, "Shield yourselves!"

Water walls rose, colliding against the flames.

Gritting his teeth, he raised a wall of water, shielded and infused with blue Qi—to block the radiant death.

Then, Splash!

Hiss~

A figure burst from the river, landing in a crouch, steam hissed from his body.

Hair dripping, eyes burning.

Su Xiaobai.

Alive.

His chest rose once, he exhaled, the wall of water in front of him receded like it, too, was afraid.

They stared.

Speechless.

As if they had seen a man drown, burn, and return as the god of vengeance.

He looked at them. One by one.

No smile. No grin.

Just cold promise.

"If I don't see Sun Lingxi's trace—dead or alive—by nightfall…then I shall let these flames lick something softer."

His gaze swept across the six survivors.

Zhou Ping whimpered audibly. "D-Define softer…"

Only the sound of dripping water from his sleeves.

He walked past them, steps casual, droplets sizzling off him like the earth itself was submitting.

Click.

He flicked the water from his fingers.

It splashed like judgment.

And they followed.

This time, no one said a word.

Because they understood something now.

He wasn't threatening them.

He was reminding them.

You don't run from death

You don't lie to death.

_____

[Forest of Ten Thousand Mouths]

"Show me the map."

The demand hit like a slap.

Ranran pulled out a slightly torn, spirit-sealed parchment. The edges glowed faintly under the faint sunlight— a map marking their current cursed domain:

The Forest of Ten Thousand Mouths.

Su Xiaobai squinted, then snatched it from her hands like he was grabbing the last piece of meat in a prison mess hall.

"…"

Su Yiran's lips parted as if she wanted to say something… then shut again.

There was no point.

He wasn't normal.

On this journey, they'd all realized one thing: this man had no stable setting.

He'd laugh with you one moment—then break your ribs for blinking wrong.

Ranran had been backhanded once for 'looking happy.'

The Ming twins no longer spoke above whispers.

Long Yushen's prized glaive?

Currently in Su Xiaobai's hands, being twirled like a cheap toy stick. If one had to define "Tyrant" with living form — It was him.

They didn't dare say it aloud, but behind his back, the name had spread:

Tyrant Emperor Shi Tian.

Su Xiaobai, unaware of his shiny new nickname, glared at the map like it had personally insulted his intelligence.

"Just lines and trees, no description of threats and traps." He crumpled it in one hand.

"Waste."

He flung the map over his shoulder.

Su Yiran instinctively reached to catch it—

Slipped.

Fell to one knee.

She let out a silent sigh, picked it up anyway. Her eyes rose to Su Xiaobai's back, watching him walk like a king of nothing.

She'd met many kinds of men—arrogant ones, evil ones, scholars, emperors.

But none like this.

Evil people kill quickly.

He makes you live with it.

Two hours passed.

The orange-green leaves grew darker, denser. Mist crept in like whispers with claws.

They found a stream... Clean, and calm.

They paused—just for an hour. Enough to drink, rest, and pretend they weren't in a hell-forged realm.

No one mentioned the tournament anymore.

No one dared.

It had long ceased being a trial of honor.

This was survival.

By the stream—

Su Xiaobai crouched, washing blood off his gauntlets as if scrubbing utensils, face expressionless.

Far away, the others gathered in hushed groups. Whispering, and watching him from shadows.

He didn't care.

Let them plot, let them talk.

The moment they act, he'd treat them like the crocodiles — fuel for scenery.

Then—

"Why do you seek Sun Lingxi?"