In the gravestone of the slaughtered dead animals that Sung Kang made, the billions and trillions of souls were wailing and in sorrow and each of the animal soul’s emotions lost control and converged then combined into one forming a black slop of the amalgamation of all the anger, suffering, and confusion of the dead animals. Screams, scorn, rage, and hatred were mixed together forming an amalgamation of nightmares and this jiangshi was probably the most powerful and most dangerous immortal jiangshi ever formed in the history of Murim, and this jiangshi is hungry for its murderer’s blood. Meanwhile back at the apartment complex, Sung Kang was making breakfast, a full course American breakfast to be exact. He splurged a bit because on made a total of 300 types of clothing, coats, boots, socks, shirts, jackets, and lots. So much of it that 5 of the apartment’s storage rooms are now full of clothes. He was enjoying his breakfast with passion, and most importantly he was enjoying the last of his prized orange juice because Sung Kang enjoyed making and drinking juice more than anyone. He enjoyed drinking juice with a passion and an undying determination and the most loyal commitment and he will not stop until he makes all the juices in the world. While Sung Kang was dead inside because of his last glass of juice, someone was knocking on the apartment door. Sung Kang was alarmed, then he switched to high alert. Something was wrong, he is deep inside in the forest, so what dumbass would casually walk in here and knock on an unknown structure. Sung Kang’s killing intent arose, he started transforming again bit by bit. He turned the doorknob, then opened the door.

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“What the fu-