A heretical cultivator in Bureau 749, I'm the fiercest at pulling out tendons and skinning peop

long silence.

On the other end of the phone, the Empress's voice was still magnetic and alluring, but it carried a chilling coldness.

"Little Princess..."

Are there any survivors?

Ji Zuodao immediately understood, his tone respectful yet clear:

"Your Majesty, there are still two survivors I've locked up in jail. One is a blond guy named Derek, and the other is a muscle-bound guy named Saul. Tomorrow, an old man named Wolf will be taking them away."

"Little Princess~"

The Empress's voice suddenly softened, carrying a hint of reproach.

"When you were little, you also grew up drinking your aunt's milk. Calling her 'Your Majesty' sounds too formal, so just call her 'Auntie' instead."

Ji Zuodao blinked, scratched his head, and corrected him in a low but earnest voice:

"Uh, Auntie... well, I grew up drinking the milk powder you bought when I was little. Not that... well, you know... let's be careful what we say."

"Hmph!"

The Empress laughed and scolded on the other end of the phone.

"It's all the same, all the same! Just tell me, did you drink that milk or not? My bunch of little fox cubs didn't get a drop!"

"That's different, Auntie."

Ji Zuodao was very serious.

"Besides, it's your kid being picky about food, not my fault."

"You brat, if you keep arguing, your auntie will pull your ear."

The Empress snorted, then returned to the main topic, her tone carrying a sense of entrustment that seemed perfectly natural.

"I know you've made something of yourself now, getting a position in 749. So, I'll ask you for a favor—give me an address, and I'll head over tonight and kill those foreigners. Before that…"

Her voice turned cold:

"You help your auntie to properly 'entertain' them."

"You little brat, how dare you touch my family's son..."

"You're tired of living."

Upon hearing this, Ji Zuodao grinned, his white teeth flashing under the light:

"Auntie, don't worry. Even without you saying anything, I have to avenge our little fox."

"I skinned and deboned those two foreigners a long time ago, and even took out their kidneys. I just roasted them today as a treat for the little fox, and it's enjoying them immensely."

"Hmm..." The Empress's voice held a hint of satisfaction. "Not bad. I didn't spoil you for nothing when you were little. Give me the address, and Auntie will set off right away."

"Auntie, there's no need to be in such a hurry."

Ji Zuodao quickly said, "Tomorrow, there's going to be a good show. A bunch of people are going to chase these foreigners at sea; they won't get away so easily."

"Hmm?" The Empress's voice held a hint of interest. "Battle Royale? You're in Jinghai? Not bad, that place is quite suitable for a little mud monkey like you."

"Uh..." Ji Zuodao was taken aback, scratching his head, "Is this rule... that famous?"

He only learned about this rule from Liu Ming this morning.

"Back then, your aunt went abroad to do fraud—oops, I mean, to do financial investment. Her first pot of gold came from your Jinghai 'Battle Royale' gambling platform."

The Empress's voice carried a languid smile, reminiscing about the glorious past.

"Alright, since that's the case, Auntie won't be in such a hurry."

She abruptly changed the subject, the laughter in her voice fading, replaced by a barely perceptible tension:

"Little Princess..."

"Auntie, please tell me."

"Tell your aunt the truth, my little fox..." The Empress paused, her voice very soft, "...is he really beyond saving?"

Ji Zuodao was silent for two seconds, then spoke with unusual seriousness:

"Auntie, those bastards were too ruthless. They destroyed his foundation and almost dried up his spiritual sea. Even a Great Luo Golden Immortal would probably shake his head in disbelief."

He changed the subject:

"However, I was impulsive and extracted some of its primordial essence. A few years ago, I messed around with the master and used that essence to clone a new body. Since we're from the same lineage, if the soul could be transferred there... it's not impossible to start over."

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.

Then, the Empress's voice came, devoid of all languor and laughter, leaving only a heavy, solemn tone befitting an elder:

"Little Ji..."

"Auntie owes you a huge favor."

She paused, then her voice regained its usual hooked laughter:

"When you come back to the mountain, Auntie will take good care of you."

Ji Zuo said: "..."

He was holding the phone when he suddenly felt a chill down his back.

This is rare...

Is it serious?

"Alright, that's enough chatting. Auntie's going down the mountain to do some shopping and buy a new outfit. I need to look my best for tomorrow's event."

"Alright, Auntie, take care."

Ji Zuodao hung up the phone, his smile gradually widening until it became an undisguised, gloating grin.

Is he being targeted by his aunt?

Hey.

Those three foreigners are in for a treat tomorrow.

The day of the Great Escape game.

Jinghai Wharf was packed with people.

Almost every Qi cultivator in the entire capital city who had a reputation and could still breathe was present.

Even fellow Daoists from neighboring cities, upon hearing of this once-in-a-century "grand event," called their friends and brought their families to come and watch.

The scene was even more lively than attending a temple fair during the Lunar New Year.

Gambling dens of all sizes had long since sprung up, with colorful odds signs everywhere. Shouts, haggling, and arguments about who to bet on to lose quickly blended together, creating a noisy and chaotic scene.

"Come on, place your bets! This betting pool is about how long those three foreigners can last!"

"I bet twenty minutes! That old geezer Wolf with those two cripples definitely won't last twenty minutes!"

"Half an hour! I bet half an hour! He's a veteran powerhouse, he should at least put up a fight!"

"I went to the gambling den in the west and bet they'd be chopped up by 'Broken River Gate' Boss Liu himself! Boss Liu used to run ships and got ripped off by those foreign devils countless times!"

"Die! Die! Die! Die!"

Someone shouted it out first, and it immediately drew a chorus of responses.

The malice that permeated the air was almost tangible, starkly and intensely plastered onto the three figures in the center of the dock.

Wolf stood there, with Dreyer on his left, who could barely stand but whose face was still pale, and Saul on his right, whose face was tense and whose muscles were unconsciously bulging.

He looked up at the dark mass of the fleet on the sea, its guns arrayed high, and he could even make out the outline of an aircraft carrier in the distance…

His face turned green little by little.

"Zhang, Yu, Chen—!!"

Wolf gritted out the name through clenched teeth, his finger trembling as he pointed to the sea:

"You fucking...do you have to be so ridiculous?!"

"An exercise, and incidentally, purely coincidental."

Zhang Yucheng stood not far from him, his black trench coat perfectly pressed, his face still bearing that refined and gentle smile.

"Perfect timing, the Eastern Theater Command has a joint exercise planned soon, and the sea area needs to be cleared."

"I was thinking, since we're going to clear it out anyway, why not just leave it here and do you a favor?"

He paused, his smile widening, and added:

"Look, this sea area is very clean now, there are absolutely no fishing boats or tourists disturbing you."

Wolf's temples throbbed: "Those...those naval guns..."

"Oh, that?" Zhang Yucheng waved his hand, looking completely nonchalant. "It's just an exercise. Don't worry, it's all practice rounds. The power isn't great, and the cannons have been adjusted so they won't be aimed at you."

He offered words of comfort with sincerity:

"There are just too many stray bullets; artillery fire, you know, it doesn't discriminate."

"In case of accidental scratches, scrapes, or injuries... we generally do not provide compensation."

"certainly--"

Zhang Yucheng changed the subject, his smile unchanged, "If you accidentally damage our ships or equipment..."

"Repair costs, maintenance costs, lost wages... must be compensated at full price."

Wolf's face was dark, his chest heaving violently; he was too lazy to waste any more words on this bandit disguised as an official.

He finally understood that reasoning with the people in the Jinghai 749 Bureau was useless, protesting was futile, and getting angry was a waste of his emotions.

He could only silently curse Zhang Yucheng's family tree eight hundred times in the most vicious foreign language in his heart.

The gazes from all around him, as if watching a monkey show or meat on a chopping board, along with the undisguised shouts of "die, die, die!", made him extremely uncomfortable, and his lips twitched uncontrollably.

The people in Jinghai... they're all fucking insane!

It has absolutely nothing to do with his envisioned "formalistic performance" or "just for show"!

This is clearly the opening of a slaughterhouse, and they are the three pigs waiting to be slaughtered!

In the crowd, Edward shrank back, trying to minimize his presence, and let out a long sigh of relief.

Thankfully... thankfully I'm just a civilian diplomat, so I don't have to participate in this deadly "game".

After he's finished watching the excitement here, he'll just take a plane back to China.

He didn't want to stay in this godforsaken place for even a minute longer.

He subconsciously touched his pocket, where a small gambling ticket lay quietly.

That was a bet he secretly placed at a small gambling den during the chaos.

The odds are good.

He bought...

Thor died first.

Edward licked his slightly dry lips and silently prayed:

"God bless……"

"Let that muscleman die quickly."

Amen.