“Who’s killing prisoners? Are you tired of living?”
A voice rang out from among the Da Qian soldiers, and soon, Squad Leader Liu pushed his way through the crowd.
“Who killed the prisoners?”
Liu’s gaze swept across the crowd, cold and stern.
The next moment, everyone’s eyes turned toward Li Dao.
“What’s your name?”
Liu’s eyes locked onto Li Dao.
Li Dao casually tossed away the blade in his hand and said calmly, “9527.”
9527?
Liu paused, then suddenly looked up sharply. “You’re from the Death Row Camp?”
At the mention of the “Death Row Camp,” everyone present — even the Barbarians — froze in shock.
Li Dao didn’t deny it. There was no point; something like that would be easily checked. He simply nodded.
Hiss—
As Li Dao confirmed it, everyone sucked in a sharp breath.
They’d seen death row prisoners on the battlefield before — most just got sent to die or cowered somewhere, afraid to move.
But one wielding two blades, fighting at the front lines and still alive? That was a first for many of them.
Rarer than a national treasure.
Squad Leader Liu calmed himself and asked, “Why did you kill the prisoners?”
Li Dao: “My hand slipped.”
Liu: “Your hand slipped twice?”
Li Dao: “The first time it was my left hand. Second time was the right. Different hands.”
Liu: “???”
The Barbarians: “******”
Whoosh!
A blade suddenly flew up from the ground and skewered a Barbarian who’d just been shouting the loudest curses.
In an instant, the crowd fell silent again.
Liu’s face turned red with rage. “9527, what do you have to say this time?”
Li Dao: “Sorry. This time it was my left foot that slipped.”
Liu was so mad he actually started laughing. “So what? Is your right foot going to slip next?”
Li Dao shrugged. “Who knows?”
The Barbarians fell into stunned silence.
They’d been forced to surrender by a death row convict, then killed after surrendering, and now even threatened. They truly had zero human rights left.
Seeing Li Dao’s “dead pig doesn’t fear boiling water” attitude, Liu lost all will to argue.
What could you possibly hold a death row prisoner accountable for?
Military discipline?
He’s not technically a soldier.
Kill him?
He’s already a condemned man!
Besides, if he’d secretly killed those prisoners earlier, it would’ve been a different story — but after tonight’s successful raid, Liu couldn’t justify executing him now.
After all, 9527 had made a huge contribution to the operation.
And the stronger these death row convicts were, the more useful they were on the battlefield — meaning fewer casualties among Liu’s own men.
So naturally, Liu couldn’t bring himself to have him executed.
In the end, Liu could only give a light punishment and a stern warning.
What he didn’t know was — Li Dao had acted so brazenly for that exact reason.
In Li Dao’s mind, he was already a dead man walking. What was there to be afraid of?
What were they going to do? Sentence him to death again?
“9527, because of the prisoner killings, your battle merits will be revoked for this operation.”
“And the merit for enemy kills? Do I still get credit for that?”
“Kills? How many did you even take down?”
Li Dao didn’t speak. He simply pulled out a blood-soaked cloth bundle from his chest. When he opened it — it was full of left ears from Barbarians.
Li Dao roughly counted and said, “A total of eighteen.”
“Add the three on the ground, that makes twenty-one.”
Squad Leader Liu glanced at the three dead prisoners on the ground and his face darkened. “Those three don’t count.”
If killing prisoners were to count as combat merit, then Li Dao wouldn’t be the only one doing it.
Li Dao didn’t argue. He replied calmly, “Then eighteen it is.”
After all, he’d already received the attribute points—he didn’t care about the ears anymore.
Still, those eighteen kills left the surrounding Da Qian soldiers stunned.
The Da Qian Dynasty and Barbarians had been at war for over a century, winning and losing in turns. Typically, the casualty ratio was around 1:1-point-something.
In other words, one Da Qian soldier’s life was usually only worth about one Barbarian.
Tonight was a surprise night raid, so the ratio might not hold perfectly—but at best, it would be 1:2: one Da Qian life for two Barbarian.
But 9527 here had alone killed eighteen Beiman soldiers.
That was more than what most regular soldiers managed in an entire career.
Even Squad Leader Liu hadn’t expected Li Dao to kill that many.
Staring at the bundle of ears Li Dao handed over, Liu took a deep breath before saying, “As punishment for killing prisoners, your base merit from this operation will be voided. If it happens again, even your combat merits for killing enemies will be stripped.”
Upon hearing this, Li Dao smiled faintly. “Thank you, Squad Leader.”
Having experienced the benefits of attribute points, he no longer cared much about military merit.
As long as he got stronger, military merits would be easy to come by.
Liu snorted. “I don’t know why you ended up in the Death Row Camp, but if you’ve got ability, then cherish it. Don’t get cocky. And don’t even think of doing anything stupid.”
“Understood,” Li Dao replied, knowing exactly what Liu meant.
He was warning him: don’t get any ideas about running away just because you’re strong.
In truth, Li Dao could’ve escaped before—easily.
But then what?
When he was sent to the Death Row Camp, his identity was erased. He was now a “ghost”—a person with no official record.
People like that were shunned everywhere. If caught by local authorities, they might even be treated as wanted criminals.
Even if he escaped Da Qian and entered another kingdom, it wouldn’t matter.
In this world, having no identity was like having no ID in his previous life.
If no one checked, fine. But if anyone did, life would become impossible.
That’s why Li Dao had never seriously considered fleeing.
He wanted to fight his way out of the Death Row Camp openly and earn a new identity.
And there was another, more important reason—
In this life, he still had family.
If he wanted to return to them, he needed a clean slate.
…
With the Barbarians having surrendered, it was time to clean up the battlefield.
Normally after a battle, death row inmates would be detained separately—they still had to be escorted back.
But maybe because Li Dao had performed so outstandingly and saved many Da Qian soldiers, no one brought it up.
Plus, when they tallied up the numbers, they realized that of the twenty death row prisoners brought along, only 9527 had survived.
There was even less reason to question him now.
Li Dao glanced around, then walked over to a bonfire.
There was a roasted lamb leg hanging above the fire.
Without hesitation, he picked it up and started gnawing away, eating like he hadn’t tasted real food in ages.
After taking a bite and savoring the long-lost flavor, Li Dao let out a deep breath of satisfaction.
As he ate, he silently muttered in his heart, “Panel.”
The next moment, a screen popped up in front of him.
[Host: Li Dao]
[Physique: 3.16]
[Available Attribute Points: 1.24]
After the initial round of fighting, his physique had already reached three times that of a normal person.
Because the fighting had been so intense, he hadn’t had time to allocate his new attribute points—and they’d piled up.
While munching on the lamb leg, Li Dao focused his mind and allocated all the points into Physique.
In an instant, a wave of heat surged through his body.
The physical upgrade seemed to put a certain strain on him—an even stronger hunger kicked in.
Crunch!
Li Dao bit into the lamb leg again, this time chewing down on the bone along with the meat.
With a body three times stronger than average, even his jaw was abnormally powerful. He crushed the bone effortlessly and swallowed it.
A dozen breaths later…
The heat flow faded, and Li Dao’s physical strength rose once again to a new level.
[Host: Li Dao]
[Physique: 4.40]
[Available Attribute Points: 0]
Over four times the physique of an average person.
Li Dao felt that even if he used that rusty old tetanus blade from before, he could now slice a person clean in two with a single swing.
If he had possessed this level of strength earlier, he wouldn’t have needed to be so cautious at the start—he could have charged into the ranks of the Barbarians and slaughtered freely.
After all, a physique four times stronger than a normal person meant an overall enhancement:
Four times the strength, four times the stamina, four times the recovery rate, and far superior speed and reflexes.
(Note: In reality, speed and reflexes wouldn’t increase proportionally with physique, but rather improve gradually.)
Taken individually, none of those traits might be overwhelmingly terrifying.
But when combined? The effect was monstrous.
With four times the strength, even a simple iron rod could become an unstoppable weapon.
With four times the stamina, he was practically a perpetual motion machine—he could swing a blade all night without getting tired.
With extraordinary speed, every strike would be lethal—ordinary soldiers wouldn’t even be able to react before getting hit.
With extraordinary reflexes, everyone else’s movements would appear in slow motion to him—he could instantly respond and counterattack.
And in the context of ancient cold weapon warfare, his combat power would be amplified to terrifying levels.
And this… was just the beginning.
After all, it had only been one week since he acquired the system, and he had only experienced one real battle so far.
As he continued to grow, his power would snowball—becoming more and more overwhelming.
The battlefield cleanup was swift—after all, this was just a small Barbarian squad, and they didn’t carry any significant supplies.
Meanwhile, Li Dao had also eaten and drunk his fill, feeling completely satisfied.
While the taste wasn’t as complex as the grilled meat from his previous life, compared to the slop in the death row camp, this was a feast worthy of heaven.
“9527!”
A sudden voice called out near his ear.
Turning his head, he saw that Squad Leader Liu had approached him at some point, holding the reins of a chestnut-colored horse.
“Can you ride?”
Liu patted the horse as he asked.
“Yes,” Li Dao replied.
Of course he could ride.
The noble title he once inherited was that of a third-rank military earl. When he inherited it, he had to undergo tests in riding, archery, and martial skills.
Even though he had greased some palms and pulled strings to pass, he had at least learned basic horseback riding.
Liu nodded. “Then mount up and return with us.”
“One last reminder: with your ability, it’s not impossible to leave the death row camp with honor. Don’t make the wrong choice.”
“I understand.”
…
Since they had walked under the cover of night to get there, riding back on horseback made the return journey to Changgu Town much faster.
This town was where Liu’s unit was garrisoned along the border.
“Put it on.”
As soon as Li Dao dismounted, Squad Leader Liu came over and handed him a set of hand and leg shackles.
Seeing the familiar restraints, Li Dao calmly accepted them and fastened them on himself.
These shackles used to be his prison, a symbol of his bondage. But now, to him, they were just a temporary formality—something he would soon discard.
Not long after, Li Dao was brought back to a place he knew all too well:
The death row prison cell.
The moment the door opened and he stepped in, all the death row inmates inside stared in stunned silence.
None of them had expected Li Dao to return alive.
And seeing that he was the only one who returned, the prisoners became even more convinced—this guy was not to be messed with.
Li Dao ignored their reactions and went straight to a corner, sitting down.
After the earlier blood-pumping chaos, the adrenaline had worn off. Now, all that was left was exhaustion.
Half-asleep, he quickly dozed off.
This time, there was no sharpened wooden stake in his hand.
Because now, he had a power far beyond that crude weapon.
And he wasn’t afraid of sneak attacks either.
With a physique four times stronger than a normal person, his senses were incredibly sharp.
Anyone getting close would immediately alert him.
So naturally—he had nothing to worry about.
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