I Can Only Cultivate In A Game-Chapter 164: Another Clash

Low buildings that sagged like drunks against each other.

Dirty, cracked streets littered with garbage and beggars.

The dark stench of decay hung in the air.

The slum town.

Right where he had logged out earlier.

Victor quickly scanned the area.

He could already see the distant outline of the exit road, a rough path leading toward safer territories.

He was quite distant from the assassin's den so all he had to do was just leave the town before anyone noticed him.

"You have finally returned. I have been waiting for five days."

Victor froze mid-step.

'Ah, crap... that voice...' He slowly turned his head to the side.

In the shade of a half-collapsed structure, sat Tarkos—the black-tattooed assassin.

The man rose smoothly to his feet while dusting off his ragged cloak. His body language was relaxed, almost casual, but Victor didn't miss the subtle tension in his legs—the poised readiness of a predator who had patiently waited for his prey.

Tarkos's voice was low and almost amused.

"I knew you'd come back. Are you finally ready to surrender?"

Victor's mouth twitched.

'You creepy tattooed bastard. You seriously waited five days in-game just for me?

Get a life, bro.'

Victor's hand tightened around his sword. His instincts told him to flee, but his pride—and his stubbornness—had other ideas.

He drew his weapon in a flash.

"Not today, discount boogeyman," Victor muttered under his breath.

Tarkos smiled faintly.

And then he moved.

Battle erupted...

Tarkos lunged forward like a shadow unchained with his hands aimed at Victor's throat with brutal efficiency.

Victor spun sideways, narrowly dodging the first swipe, and brought his sword around in a sweeping arc to counter-attack.

But just like before—

The black tattoos on Tarkos's body slithered and shifted, hardening where Victor's blade aimed to land.

CLANG!

The impact reverberated through Victor's arms like he had just slammed into solid iron.

Sparks flew from the collision while Tarkos didn't even flinch.

"Predictable," Tarkos stepped forward with his knee aimed straight for Victor's ribs.

Victor barely blocked with the flat side of his blade, but the force launched him backward.

'Okay. Plan A: regular attacks? Complete garbage.'

Victor backflipped to create space—one, two, three leaps back—until he was dozens of feet away.

He skidded to a stop while breathing hard as his eyes narrowed.

'Guess I gotta bring out the big guns early.'

Victor steadied his stance with a look of focus.

[ Shadow Crescent Strike: Activated ]

His sword darkened while emitting a eerie violet mist as shadow energy gathered at the blade's edge.

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Tarkos raised an eyebrow.

Victor swung.

A massive crescent wave of black shadow shot forward, ripping through the air with intensity.

Tarkos barely had time to react.

The sharp shadowy crescent slammed into his side.

BOOM!

Dust exploded outward as Tarkos was thrown back several meters before slamming against a broken wall.

Victor's eyes widened slightly.

On Tarkos's right side, where the shadow cresent strike had landed, there was a small—but very real—dent.

Blood trickled down in a thin, dark line.

Tarkos straightened while wiping the blood with his thumb and inspecting it with mild interest.

"Well," he said in a tone that almost sounded approving. "Looks like you're not completely hopeless after all."

Victor smirked while raising his sword again.

"Oh buddy, that was just the foreplay."

Tarkos's smile widened.

"You'll regret that."

Tarkos exploded forward

with immense speed.

This time he didn't bother with casual strikes.

His movements blurred as the tattoos across his arms shifted like living armor while he weaved through Victor's defense.

Victor swung another Shadow Crescent Strike—

—but Tarkos anticipated it.

He jumped into the air and twisted to dodge completely before crashing toward him like a falling meteor.

Victor tried to block.

It didn't matter.

BAM!

Tarkos's elbow smashed into Victor's shoulder, sending him spinning.

Victor hit the ground hard and rolled across broken cobblestones. He pushed himself up while wincing.

Tarkos was already upon him again with his fists turning into a blur as he unleashed multiple strikes that Victor desperately parried, sidestepped, and ducked under.

'Jesus Christ, did he get faster than before?!'

Every time Victor managed to deflect a blow, another came from a blind angle.

It was like trying to fight a hurricane made of blades.

Within minutes, bruises bloomed across Victor's body.

He managed a few counterattacks and landed glancing blows—but nothing significant.

It was starting to feel like last time.

A slow, inevitable slaughter.

Victor evaded another vicious punch that obliterated a tree and rolled aside.

His mind raced.

He could maybe keep evading for a few more minutes—but winning?

Impossible.

Not like this.

If he died here, even if it was just in-game, it would affect his cultivation level.

Victor gritted his teeth.

He had just entered Nascent Soul Realm. He didn't want to go back to Core Formation.

---

At the next moment of opening, as Tarkos lunged with a palm ready to crush Victor's chest—

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Victor's body shimmered and vanished mid-strike.

Tarkos's palm slammed into empty air.

The assassin froze for a moment as his tattoos twitched slightly.

Then he laughed with a slow and amused tone.

"You can run, little Fang Chen," he murmured.

"But you'll be back. They always come back."

Tarkos turned and walked back into the shadows.

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