Under one person: I, Zhang Zhiwei, the arrogant Zhang.

"Ah ah ah..."

Rossini's face was covered in blisters from the fire bursting from the brazier, and he covered his face, letting out a pig-like scream.

Yan Yang frowned, took out a bottle of medicine specifically for burns, and applied it to him. The cool ointment temporarily suppressed the burning pain.

Luo Xinian rushed to the mirror, looked at his disfigured face, and felt both pain and anger. He couldn't help but curse:
"Damn it, what the hell happened?! Why did that fire explode? What are you all good for? I pay you tens of thousands of dollars a year to support you, and this is all you've got? Is this how you repay me...?"

Before he could finish speaking, he saw Yan Yang's eyes, which were practically spitting fire. His heart skipped a beat, and he swallowed back the even harsher words that followed.

Huo Dezong's hot-tempered elder brother had never been treated like this before, and immediately retorted with a string of curses:

"You've been blown out of your mind by the fire, spouting nonsense. I'll let it slide this time, but if you dare say another word against me, don't blame me for turning my back on you!"

"What do you mean by tens of thousands of dollars in subsidies every year? That's what Elder Toad Skin of the sect collects. It has nothing to do with me. I have hands and feet. It's not my place to be supported by anyone."

"Damn those old bastards, they collect some pathetic money and make us do these pathetic things."

Yan Yang's fists clenched so tightly they cracked, his heart filled with unbearable resentment. As a core disciple of the Huode Sect, he had been reduced to being a bodyguard for such a heartless and greedy landlord for a long time.

In fact, he had considered refusing directly like his junior brother Fengping, but before he could even open his mouth, the elder in charge of the sect's finances started complaining about being poor, saying that these disciples were not in charge of the household and did not know the cost of firewood, rice, oil, and salt, and that the sect was almost starving.

He's the kind of person who responds better to gentle persuasion than force, so he came over after being half-heartedly persuaded.

Luo Xinian shrank back in anger after being yelled at by Yan Yang. He dared not speak out and could only apologize, saying that he had talked nonsense because he was burning up and asked the master for forgiveness.

The situation is beyond his control now, and he still needs the protection of Huo Dezong, so he dares not turn against the red-haired giant in front of him.

"Senior brother, please calm down!" Seeing Luo Xinian back down, a disciple of the Fire Virtue Sect stepped forward to smooth things over, then looked at Luo Xinian and said:
"It was Zhang Mazi who did this, but don't worry, with the people of our Huode Sect here, we will protect you no matter what."

Rossini finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"Let's go out and meet this Zhang Mazi!" Yan Yang said in a deep voice, but his previous contempt had long since vanished.

…………

…………

While they were arguing, Zhang Zhiwei, wearing a nine-tube mask, arrived at the entrance of the Luo residence.

Although he was wearing a mask, his figure was still there, and the old beggar recognized him immediately. He was overjoyed and hurried over to tell Zhang Zhiwei that he had already delivered the IOU.

"Okay, let's go in and collect the debts." Zhang Zhiwei said, and started to walk inside.

"Where did this idiot come from..."

After what just happened, the guards at the gate were initially apprehensive, but when they saw that only one person was coming and had no weapons, they immediately lost their fear. They reached for the Mauser pistol at their waist, intending to press it against the tall man's forehead to force him to kneel down.

Before he could even draw his gun, a large hand suddenly loomed in front of him and slammed onto the top of his head.

A wisp of blue light emanated from Zhang Zhiwei's palm, invading the other's soul. He searched the soul as quickly as flipping through a book, thoroughly reviewing the wicked servant's misdeeds throughout his life.

It's said that it's easier to deal with the King of Hell than with his underlings. Luo Xinian is a scumbag, and his executors are even more scumbags among scumbags.

Zhang Zhiwei didn't hold back at that moment, and suddenly twisted his wrist.

At that time, people from Sichuan were generally not tall. Zhang Zhiwei was 1.9 meters tall, and his hands were so big that they could almost cover the man's head. With this flip, it was like twisting a bottle cap, making the servant's head spin several times before he fell to the ground with a thud.

The old beggar looked at the servant in front of him. The servant's neck was broken, and his head was hanging at a strange angle on his neck. But he was not dead yet. His body was still twitching, and blood bubbles were coming out of his mouth and nose. It was too gruesome to describe.

The old beggar looked at the deity in front of him again and killed a person with a wave of his hand. The deity remained expressionless and calm, as if he were killing a chicken. There was no trace of the gentleness he had shown when he was chatting with him earlier.
A servant passing by in the courtyard saw this scene and screamed loudly.

"Murder! Murder!!"

"Someone has come to our door!"

This commotion naturally drew the attention of the thugs kept in the manor, the so-called security guards.

A group of men in black rushed out with guns, and upon seeing Zhang Zhiwei, they raised their guns to shoot.

Upon seeing this, the old beggar's expression changed drastically. He tried to hide behind Zhang Zhiwei, but just as he did, he suddenly seemed to remember something, his face hardening. He then ran in front of Zhang Zhiwei, spreading his arms as if to shield him from bullets.

Zhang Zhiwei stared blankly at the old beggar in front of him. He was 1.9 meters tall, while the beggar was less than 1.6 meters tall, yet he stood protectively in front of him. The scene looked rather comical.

The thugs in the guard squad were even laughing out loud. They laughed wildly as they pulled the triggers, firing bullets one after another, trying to turn the two men in front of them, one tall and one short, into sieves.

The old beggar dared not open his eyes to look; he kept his eyes tightly shut and shouted to bolster his courage.

But if he opened his eyes at this moment, he would see that Zhang Zhiwei simply reached out and gently wiped his hand in front of him, and a barrier made entirely of air appeared.

The bullets that were fired were blocked by the air barrier. The brass bullets, visible to the naked eye, hovered in the air and spun at high speed, but could no longer penetrate even a centimeter.

They're just a bunch of worthless scoundrels. Zhang Zhiwei could even block their bullets without using the Golden Light Mantra, relying solely on the most ordinary and primal Qi.

Although his cultivation level was getting higher and higher, the quality of Zhang Zhiwei's Qi was also getting stronger and stronger.

Ordinary superhumans' Qi has no destructive power. If they don't transform their Qi into a means of action, even if they exert all their strength, they can at most knock away a soda can. They can't hurt anyone, let alone stop a bullet.

But Zhang Zhiwei's Qi, even without transformation, is as strong as a gale. Even if he just releases it casually, it has considerable power and can easily block some pistol bullets.

This scene would be absolutely terrifying for an ordinary person, but Zhang Zhiwei did not give the thugs in the guard squad a chance to be terrified. With a thought, he sent the bullets hanging in the air back the way they came.

"biu! biu! biu..."

The bullets pierced precisely between the thugs' eyebrows, leaving a trail of blood before embedding themselves in the courtyard wall.

Only then did the old beggar dare to open his eyes, and he saw that the thugs who had been so arrogant just moments before were lying haphazardly on the ground, each with a bloody hole between their eyebrows, from which red and white fluid was flowing.

Behind the corpse, the courtyard wall was riddled with bloody bullets, and the bloodstains on the bullets slowly dripped down, revealing the three bloody characters "Zhang Mazi" on the wall.

The old beggar stared blankly at the scene. Violence was far more shocking than mercy. Compared to the previous restoration of his severed limbs, he truly felt what it meant for a god to descend to earth and for someone to have supernatural powers.

"Let's go, continue!" Zhang Zhiwei lifted his foot and walked into the mansion. The moment he entered, he had used the Qimen Dunjia formation to cover the area. All the changes in this world were within his control.

Just now, he learned a lot more from the memories of that guard, and roughly knew who in this mansion should be killed and who shouldn't be killed.

He won't touch those who shouldn't be killed, but he won't let any of those who should be killed go unpunished.

Zhang Zhiwei walked through the mansion, with the old beggar following behind him, his steps faltering.

On the way, they would occasionally run into thugs from the guard squad. Every time they encountered an old beggar, they would call out to warn him. Zhang Zhiwei was not polite; if they were close, he would slap them to death, and if they were far away, he would flick a wisp of finger wind to kill them.

When the old beggar encountered some farmhands and servants, he worried that the god beside him might go berserk and kill them indiscriminately. He was about to speak up to warn him when he saw that the god did not make a move at all, but just watched as the people screamed and fled.

The old beggar was startled, thinking to himself that the divine being was indeed a divine being, able to distinguish between good and evil.

Zhang Zhiwei fought his way to the torture chamber in the manor.

The door to the torture chamber was locked, and a mixture of blood, stench, and mold wafted out from under the door.

The old beggar trembled violently upon smelling the odor, his face turned deathly pale, and his eyes were filled with profound fear.

Zhang Zhiwei reached out and crushed the lock, then pushed the door open. The room was larger than he had imagined, filled with a horrifying array of torture instruments: branding irons stuck in a charcoal brazier, a tiger bench stained with black and red blood, a rack with barbed whips hanging from the ends, the tips still covered in dried flesh; there were also clamps, bamboo skewers…

The floor of the torture chamber was an uneven mud floor, stained with bloodstains of varying shades that could not be washed away.

The old beggar watched all this, struggling to breathe, as if he had returned to the nightmare of being tortured years ago.

"Immortal, what are we doing here?" he asked in a trembling voice.

"Waiting for someone," Zhang Zhiwei replied calmly.

"Waiting for someone?"

Just as the old beggar was wondering what was going on, a sharp shout rang out.

"You audacious Zhang Mazi! You know we, the people of the Huode Sect, are here, yet you still dare to trespass. You clearly don't take us seriously!"

Following the sound, three men dressed in crimson short jackets appeared. The leader, with his fiery red hair, thick eyebrows, and angry eyes, was none other than Yan Yang.

Behind these three people stood a person whose face was burned so badly that his features were unrecognizable.

But some things and some people, you would recognize even if they were burned or turned to ashes. The old beggar recognized at a glance that it was Luo Xinian, the one who had caused his family to be destroyed.

"It's him! A god! He's Rossinien!" The old beggar shouted, his eyes bloodshot, pointing at his enemy.

Zhang Zhiwei ignored the three from Huode Sect. His gaze swept past them and landed on Luo Xinian. He said indifferently, "Did you receive the IOU? I'm here to collect a debt."

“You borrowed three million silver dollars from me before the New Year, at an interest rate of 300%. You have to pay me back nine million silver dollars in interest, plus the three million in principal, for a total of twelve million.”

"I'm a very fair person. If you can come up with the money, I'll leave immediately. If you can't, I'll kill your whole family!"

He was saying ruthless things about killing the whole family, but he didn't show any emotion at all; he was completely calm and collected.

Yan Yang felt a chill in his heart. He sensed killing intent in those words. It wasn't strong, but it was incredibly pure.

This is a feeling somewhat like his feelings towards the gourd stopper at his waist.

Do I develop feelings for the stopper?

No! There was no disgust, no guilt, and no hatred. It was simply because I wanted to drink the beverage inside that I would pull it open without hesitation.

In other words, the other party would kill Luo Xinian's entire family without hesitation, not because of hatred or anything else, but simply because he said those words.

This attitude of treating human life as worthless can only stem from absolute power and a transcendent position... Yan Yang looked at the nine-tube masked man opposite him, his expression more solemn than ever before: "The Tang Clan's Grand Master? Or the Tang Clan's Chief?"

Zhang Zhiwei tilted his head and looked at Yan Yang: "It's better to keep this to yourself than to say it out loud. You're just asking for trouble!"

"I have already converted to the Holy Flame. Even if you are truly the King of Hell, you cannot kill me!" Yan Yang said in a deep voice.

The words had barely left his mouth when a loud bang resounded.

Yan Yang was sent flying backward, crashing hard into the wall of the torture chamber. He collapsed to the ground, struggled a couple of times, but couldn't get up. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.

Zhang Zhiwei stepped on Yan Yang's abdomen, crossed his arms, looked down at him, and sneered: "If you're really laughing at the King of Hell, someone like you would have died more than ten times over."

The other two Huode Sect disciples roared and charged forward, their hands wreathed in flames.

Zhang Zhiwei stretched out his hands and grabbed the two men by the neck, lifting them up like two chicks. The whole movement was so smooth that it was as if the two men had come into his hands on their own.

Yan Yang stared blankly at this scene, feeling that the nine-tube masked man standing on his chest was more imposing and energetic than he had ever seen in his life.

This isn't from the Tang Clan. Tang Clan assassins shouldn't possess such overwhelming power and aura... They're impossible to defeat; there's no chance of victory...

Fear gripped him like an invisible hand. The usually arrogant Yan Yang didn't even have the desire to fight back. With a thought, he was about to use a fire-style technique to leave and go back to ask for help.

His face swelled up, and restless flames surged from his seven orifices. His figure blurred, about to transform into fire and depart.

But at that moment, the man in the nine-tube mask exerted a slight force on his feet, and an indescribable power penetrated his body. The flames on his body trembled violently, and the invisible runes within the flames became slightly visible before suddenly collapsing.

The flames on his body disappeared, and Yan Yang reappeared, spitting out a large pool of blood. He stared in disbelief at the nine-tube masked man in front of him. His connection with the sacred fire was severed, and not only that, even the conversion talisman within his body was shattered.

This kick was equivalent to crushing the golden branch within Nasenwei's body, and it was also equivalent to crippling Yan Yang's fire escape technique. He would never be able to use fire escape techniques again, nor would he be able to use the golden holy fire of the Fire Virtue Sect.

Zhang Zhiwei casually tossed the two Huode Sect disciples he was carrying out; one landed on a tiger bench, and the other hung on an iron hook on the wall.

He looked down at the blazing sun beneath his feet, his voice regaining its previous calm:

"I have some connection with your Fire Virtue Sect, so I won't kill you. But I have to teach you how to write the 'Virtue' character in 'Fire Virtue Sect.' Only after you learn it can you leave." (End of Chapter)