After twenty-some seconds, Frank Easton's chest and abdomen began to heave wildly, clearly realizing that his situation was extremely dire. His hands and feet convulsed uncontrollably, but no matter how desperately he struggled, Jason Allen—with a sudden surge of crazed strength from who knows where—held him down with brutal force, pinning him so tightly he couldn't move at all.

At this moment, Frank Easton finally lost all composure, screaming hoarsely in utter frenzy:

"You... you!! How could you possibly evade my Sword-in-the-Flute? Unless—unless you've already obtained that... power of destiny! But you only just woke up, how could your soul possibly withstand the violent shock of the power of destiny awakening?"

"I've lived two lifetimes—of course my soul is far tougher than yours!"

Jason Allen cursed inwardly. Hearing Frank Easton's words, countless questions naturally arose in his mind, but if you thought he would open his mouth to ask, you'd be dead wrong. At this moment, Jason Allen could already feel with absolute clarity that what he was sucking from Frank Easton's throat was definitely not just blood. Though he didn't know exactly what it was, he was certain it was not only extremely important to him, but somehow, it was a matter of life and death!

Not everyone has experienced being bitten on the neck—let alone being fully conscious as their own blood is sucked away, their muscles and blood vessels severed by sharp teeth!

Yet even in such a situation, Frank Easton still managed to calmly do what was most advantageous for himself, saying what was most beneficial to him. As long as Jason Allen, who was pressing down on him, opened his mouth to ask even a single question, giving him just a sliver of space to catch his breath—just a sliver—he could activate his final life-saving move and turn the tables!

But Jason Allen truly did not give him even that sliver... not... at... all!!!

That refined, scholarly double PhD from MIT; that easygoing Young Allen who could squat by the roadside eating noodles from a big bowl; that elderly child scholar who always smiled kindly at his servants... all just a facade, a disguise.

When it came down to this life-and-death moment, what Frank Easton saw in those eyes on the twisted face was endurance, ruthlessness, and even a stubborn beast-like tenacity that, once it seized an opportunity, would never let go!

In fact, without this kind of madness and obstinacy, how could Jason Allen have fought his way from being an orphan in his previous life to such a high social status?

Even if you chop off my head, I will never let go!

At this point, Frank Easton's whole body began to tremble, half from pain, half from an overwhelming sense of unwillingness. Ambitious as he was, he had never imagined that fate would arrange for him to meet this seemingly humble and weak youth, only to cast him in the role of...

Prey.

What a delicious irony—to be hunted by the very food in your eyes! Even more bizarre, he had performed so perfectly, everything had gone so smoothly along the way. I... can't accept this... ah!!

Time slowly passed. Suddenly, Jason Allen realized that no matter what he did, he could no longer suck anything out, and the body he was pinning down was now radiating an indescribable heat!

When a person unconsciously grabs a burning coal, they instinctively let go. At this moment, Jason Allen's body reacted the same way—he sprang up abruptly, only realizing afterward that what he'd been pressing down on was a corpse, almost certainly dead, not a blazing campfire or a red-hot iron block.

What happened next was almost beyond Jason Allen's comprehension.

Frank Easton's corpse actually became as red-hot as burning coal, like a piece of iron heated until it glowed. The heat was so intense that bubbles and clouds of steam began to rise from the small pool nearby.

But this strange phenomenon didn't last long. Soon, the crimson glow rapidly faded, but not in the way natural heat would dissipate. Normally, if you threw a glowing coal into a vat of water, it would instantly hiss and turn black and wet.

But now, the redness on the corpse seemed to be drawn by an infinite suction from a single point within Frank Easton's body, rapidly converging from all directions toward that spot. And in the midst of this redness, most things it touched—including even the flute—were instantly reduced to ashes!

------------

Chapter 9: The Fate of the Demon Essence......

Then, under Jason Allen's stunned gaze, after the red light faded, the corpse was blown by the cold wind and directly turned into drifting motes of smoke and dust, scattering away. Only then did he snap out of his daze and rush forward, discovering that at least it hadn't all been for nothing.

For example, Frank Easton was wearing an undershirt tinged slightly red, which seemed impervious to high temperatures and was completely undamaged.

For example, the Sword-in-the-Flute still stuck in his own chest.

In addition, there was a money pouch, made from the hide of some unknown wild beast, its fur extremely smooth with specks of gray-black markings, icy cold to the touch. It bulged with contents he didn't have time to examine, but it was quite heavy.