A Rich Second-generation Villain Can’t Just Enjoy Life — Chapter 420

Chapter 420: Castrate the Son of Destiny?

This trending post, in half a day, had already garnered over eight hundred pages and thousands of replies.

This was extremely rare on the sparsely populated Dark Night Home Forum, a testament to the seismic shockwaves the news had sent through the underworld. The stark, black interface glowed with automatically translated comments from every corner of the globe, each one a digital gasp of disbelief.

Highlighted replies, pushed to the top by a torrent of upvotes, painted a picture of collective awe and terror:

“Oh my god, the Yanxia Female War God is truly too powerful! She’s a monster in human skin!”

“True God above! General An Zhiyue, the Yanxia Female War God, killed the Leader of the War God Alliance on the spot a month ago, and now she’s apprehended the Shura Demon King Chu Yun, leader of the Blood Skull Mercenary Group? Incredible, truly incredible! Is there anyone she can’t defeat?”

“Haha, we in Yanxia are truly blessed to have a hero like General An Zhiyue protecting our borders! A toast to our guardian goddess!”

“*Hiss…* In just two months, both the Leader of the War God Alliance and the head of the Blood Skull Mercenary Group were taken down by her. The name ‘Dark Forces Forbidden Zone’ is more than just a title; it’s a goddamn tombstone for anyone who dares to cross into Yanxia!”

“Just how strong is the Yanxia Female War God, exactly? Someone needs to compile a new inventory of the world’s most famous female powerhouses… She’s easily in the top three now, right?”

“An Zhiyue… it’s entirely possible she has broken through to become an S-rank powerhouse. For you Yanxia folks, that’s the realm of Heavenly Human Unity!”

“Noble, impossibly beautiful, and overwhelmingly powerful… the Yanxia Female War God is the most captivating woman alive. I wonder who will be worthy of becoming her man?”

“It must be one of us from Yanxia! Hey, maybe it’s me?”

“Fuck! The Yanxia Female War God is too terrifying. I wouldn’t dare take on any missions in Yanxia now, not for a billion dollars!”

“…”

The replies, a chaotic cascade of languages automatically translated and displayed, poured into Long Hao’s vision. He stood frozen, a cheap waiter’s uniform clinging uncomfortably to his frame, the world around him fading into a dull hum.

His mouth hung open, wider and wider, his jaw slack with an astonishment so profound it bordered on catatonia. The smartphone in his hand felt impossibly heavy, its screen a portal to a reality that was twisting into an unrecognizable nightmare.

*‘What a fucking joke!!!’*

The thought screamed through his mind, a silent, hysterical shriek. Shura Demon King Chu Yun, the infamous leader of the Blood Skull Mercenary Group… a terrifying powerhouse whose hands were stained with the blood of over ten thousand souls, a future Heavenly Human expert… was apprehended? Captured like a common criminal?

Long Hao’s memories, the golden foundation of his reincarnation, were now a source of torment. He remembered it clearly: in two years, Chu Yun was supposed to achieve the Heavenly Human realm. His three legendary commanders—Blood Dragon, Blood Tiger, and Blood Wolf—were all destined to become Grandmasters. The Blood Skull Mercenary Group was supposed to cast a shadow of fear across entire continents. But now? His commanders were dead, slaughtered on the spot, and Chu Yun himself was in chains?

The vertigo intensified as his eyes fell upon the second most popular reply, a comment that felt like a sledgehammer to his already fractured psyche.

General An Zhiyue, the Yanxia Female War God, had killed the Leader of the War God Alliance a month ago!

“How is this possible? How can this be possible?!” he whispered, the words a dry rasp in his throat. “The Leader of the War God Alliance, Yan Lingxiao… he was even more powerful than Chu Yun! His organization was larger, his subordinates more loyal! He actually died??”

Long Hao’s mind was a maelstrom of chaos, a storm of shredded plans and panicked thoughts. He felt a cold sweat begin to soak his back. He had been planning, scheming, preparing to invest in Yan Lingxiao. That was supposed to be his ticket to the top, his express elevator to power.

In just six months, Yan Lingxiao was supposed to break through to the Heavenly Human realm. His cultivation was meant to progress like a force of nature, like a broken bamboo shooting for the heavens. He even had a chance of touching the legendary realm of the Land Immortals, a destiny far more formidable than Chu Yun’s.

Long Hao had it all figured out. He knew Yan Lingxiao’s most cherished treasures were Luo Yuhe and Luo Xiaoxiao. He just had to cater to their needs, protect them, and he would earn the unshakeable trust of a future titan.

But now… both Chu Yun and Yan Lingxiao were… finished? Erased from the board before the game had even truly begun?

Long Hao was utterly dumbfounded. What the hell happened to his reincarnation? Why was the future he knew so intimately now a chaotic, indecipherable mess?

The formidable Leader of the War God Alliance and the terrifying Shura Demon King, two men destined for greatness, were both gone. This wasn’t a minor deviation; this was a cataclysm.

An icy dread, sharper and colder than any he’d felt before, began to creep up his spine. The puzzle pieces started to connect in his mind, forming a horrifying picture. First, his fiancée, the beautiful Su Hongmian, already had a boyfriend—this man, Shen Anyu. That had been the first crack in his perfect future. Then, his inability to find the Xu family’s true young master, Xu He, had turned that crack into a fissure.

He had followed Shen Anyu, shadowed Xu Ruoshui and Xu Ruoxue, desperate to understand what had changed, what force was warping his reality. He had even debased himself, disguising himself as a waiter cleaning toilets, all for a scrap of information.

But all those minor anomalies combined couldn’t compare to the soul-crushing shock of Yan Lingxiao being killed and Chu Yun being captured. These weren’t just opportunities; they were the pillars of his grand design.

And just like that, they had crumbled to dust.

*‘If the Leader of the War God Alliance and the Shura Demon King are both finished… what about the other titans of the future?’*

His thoughts raced, his brain feeling like it was boiling inside his skull. The names flashed through his mind, each one a beacon of his future plans, a stepping stone to glory.

*‘The world’s future richest man, Qi Fan? The peerless Sword God, Ye Linyuan? The legendary diva, Wen Feifei? The terrifying Lord of Youming Hall, Ye Yan? Celestial Master Chen Tianji? The Dragon King, Han Qi? The Prodigy Specialist, Wei Yunteng? The Immortal Doctor, Lu Ran? The mysterious Jing River Corpse撈人…?’*

[Akarin’s Note: 捞人 (lāo rén) literally means “to fish for people,” but in this context, it refers to someone who retrieves bodies from the river, often associated with supernatural or mysterious undertones in folklore.]

*‘Are they all gone too? Have all these future giants been wiped out before they could even rise?’*

The thought was so horrifying that Long Hao felt his knees weaken. These were the individuals who were supposed to ascend like dragons within the next two and a half years. They were the targets of his Investment Return System, the powerful figures he intended to nurture and rely on. Could they all be… finished?

Silence!

Suddenly, Long Hao became aware of his surroundings again. The ambient chatter of the event hall had vanished. The clinking of glasses, the soft music, the distant laughter—it was all gone. A profound, unnatural quietness had descended upon him, thick and suffocating.

He slowly, hesitantly, looked up from his phone.

His heart stopped. From all directions, more than a dozen women in severe black uniforms had formed a silent, perfect circle around him. They moved with a predatory grace, their auras formidable and chilling. They weren’t just standing there; they were a human cage, and he was the animal trapped inside.

Through a gap in their ranks, a figure emerged, parting the guards as if they were mist. Shen Anyu. He strolled forward with an easy, confident gait, a half-smile playing on his lips. It was a smile that held no warmth, only a deep, mocking amusement.

Long Hao’s body erupted in a cold sweat. He cursed his carelessness. He must have been so shocked by the news of Chu Yun’s capture that he’d made a sound, shouted out loud, drawing this unwanted attention. *‘Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!’* his mind screamed.

Beads of sweat, as large as soybeans, trickled down his forehead, stinging his eyes. His cheap uniform was now plastered to his skin, clammy and cold.

Shen Anyu found the sight utterly amusing. He deliberately raised his voice, ensuring it carried through the now-silent space, a casual command laced with chilling intent.

“Where did this little thief come from? Take him down. And castrate him first.”

Originally, Shen Anyu couldn’t be bothered to deal with Long Hao. It was far more entertaining to sit back and watch the reincarnator’s carefully constructed world crumble, plundering his Destiny Points as he broke down. But Long Hao’s involuntary shout and his overwhelmingly strong reaction were too conspicuous. If Shen Anyu, the center of this event, didn’t react, it would seem unnatural.

So, it was as good a time as any to deal with his little pest.

He didn’t have the six million Destiny Points required to devour the Investment Return System on Long Hao’s body just yet. Until then, he might as well play with his food. Once he had the points and could absorb all of Long Hao’s future knowledge, the reincarnator would have no value left at all.

Shen Anyu’s eyes narrowed, the smile on his face thickening into a predatory grin.

Long Hao’s face instantly turned a ghastly shade of pale, the blood draining from it completely. A terrified, high-pitched shriek tore from his throat.

“No! Shen Anyu, you can’t castrate me! I’m not a thief…!”

…

At that very moment, thousands of miles away near the west coast of the Flower Flag Country, a small island sat shrouded in a perpetual storm system. Surrounded by treacherous reefs, it was an unmarked blot on any map, its existence shielded from satellite detection by advanced cloaking technology. This was the impregnable headquarters of the Martial God Hall.

The organization had hollowed out the island’s core, constructing a sprawling underground base capable of withstanding a direct nuclear assault. For centuries, it had been a fortress of absolute power, a bastion no foreign enemy had ever managed to breach.

In the international Dark World, the Martial God Hall was a colossal entity, a behemoth that stood firmly in the top tier, on par with ancient super families. Organizations like the War God Alliance and the Blood Skull Mercenary Group were mere provincial gangs in comparison.

Five Heavenly Human powerhouses served as its pillars, a fact of paramount importance to its dominance.

But at this moment, the atmosphere within the Martial God Hall headquarters was solidified to the point of breaking. The formidable individuals who walked its metallic corridors all kept their heads bowed, their footsteps unnaturally silent. They didn’t dare make a sound, consciously slowing their breathing, terrified of drawing attention. This was true even for the Grandmasters and Great Grandmasters, infamous killers who could make nations tremble.

Because a major event had occurred at the Martial God Hall—a catastrophe unprecedented in a hundred years.

Sea Dragon King Zhang Hailong, the Hall Master of the Yanxia branch; the Left Protector, George; and the Right Protector, Kim Dong-sik—three Heavenly Human experts—had been missing for several days. They were completely unreachable.

If news of this were to leak, the Dark Night Home Forum wouldn’t just explode; it would be obliterated. The platform would crash under the sheer weight of the panic. The impact would be a hundred, even a thousand times greater than the capture of the Shura Demon King Chu Yun.

This was the simultaneous disappearance of three Heavenly Human powerhouses from the Martial God Hall.

How could the people of the Martial God Hall not be paralyzed by sheer, unadulterated terror?

*Tap, tap, tap!*

The rhythmic sound of high heels on the floor echoed…