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

The Zhou family couldn't sit still any longer.

What the hell is going on?

One comes, eight leave, and they walk so neatly and uniformly, as if they had rehearsed.

If this continues, the venue will be half empty before everyone has even gathered.

No, we have to start right away to avoid any more problems.

A middle-aged man with slicked-back hair strode onto the stage, cleared his throat, and began to speak.

Phrases, platitudes, and repetitive statements.

It's long and tedious, empty and fake.

Ji Zuodao's eyelids were drooping so much from listening that he almost fell asleep standing up.

In the monitoring room of the Caiyun 749 branch.

Director Lin stared at the oily face on the screen, his expression ashen, and squeezed out three words through gritted teeth:

"Zhou Qing".

"The person in charge of the second branch of the Zhou family."

On the screen, Zhou Qing was still talking non-stop, spouting righteousness and morality.

The cigarette between Director Lin's fingers had burned to the end.

Actually, there is enough evidence.

Based solely on this video, based solely on Zhou Qing standing there and speaking to a room full of heretical cultivators—

Director Lin can sign off on arrests right now; there's no procedural problem whatsoever.

In the past, he would have actually done that.

But today, things are different.

With Ji Zuodao dragging things along underwater, and with that ingenious "borrowing a knife to wash the ground" plan covering things up—

One of the Zhou family's second wives died?

That's fucking not enough.

For no apparent reason, a line from a short video he had recently come across popped into Director Lin's mind.

He thought it was pretty cringeworthy back then, but now he thinks it's so damn fitting and so damn inspiring.

"It's getting cold."

"The Zhou family should be wiped out."

In the banquet hall.

Zhou Qing's speech finally reached its climax.

"...Once this is accomplished, the Zhou family will certainly treat you all fairly."

He paused, building up the anticipation, before slowly announcing the price:

"Spiritual herbs, elixirs, spirit stones, spirit fruits, magical artifacts..."

"Whatever you want, we have it."

The once lifeless meeting room suddenly came alive with a "buzz".

A green light emanated from those murky eyes.

Heavy breathing echoed in the dimly lit corner.

atmosphere.

That's fucking generous.

No wonder they're a family with a thousand-year history; even a single hair on their leg is thicker than their waist.

Zhou Qing was very satisfied with the effect, and a barely perceptible smile appeared at the corner of her lips:

"The target list will be sent to everyone shortly. Everything will be resolved; everything you just reported, not a single item, is yours."

After he finished speaking, he turned around and prepared to leave the stage.

It's as if staying in this place for even a second longer would leave you tainted with an indelible air of poverty and bad luck.

He took a step, but then stopped.

He turned around, his gaze sharp as a knife, precisely targeting the young man in the corner with his hands in his pockets and a bored expression.

"Oh, right."

Zhou Qing's voice wasn't loud, but it instantly silenced the entire banquet hall.

All eyes followed his gaze and fixed on Ji Zuodao.

"One of my Zhou family's stewards has gone missing."

Zhou Qing stared at Ji Zuodao and slowly said:

"Mr. Ji, have you heard any rumors?"

Ji Zuodao grinned and smiled.

His smile was exceptionally sunny, radiant, and also incredibly arrogant.

He met Zhou Qing's gaze without flinching, even taking a half-step forward, and lazily spoke in a tone that could be heard by everyone, tinged with a hint of mockery:

"You mean that one?"

"Go out of Night Raven Bar, turn right, walk about 100 or 200 steps, there's a crooked tree by the roadside."

He paused, his smile deepening, and spoke each word with crystal clarity:

There was a very noticeable pile of fresh dog poop under the tree.

"If you don't mind the dirt, why don't you go and rummage through it yourself?"

"Maybe we can find some scraps you're looking for."

"..."

A deathly silence.

In the banquet hall, only heavy gasps could be heard.

The dozens of evil cultivators looked at Ji Zuodao, who was arrogant, and then at Zhou Qing on the stage, whose face was turning from red to green and then to black at a visible speed.

stimulate.

That's fucking exciting.

Zhou Qing stared intently at Ji Zuodao for a good five or six seconds.

The coldness in his eyes was almost as if it were freezing ice crystals falling down.

In the end, he said nothing.

He simply let out a cold, heavy snort from his nose.

It was as if he was about to vent all the murderous intent in his chest.

Then, she turned around, slammed the door shut with a loud bang, and left.

Ji Zuodao shrugged, put his hands back in his pockets, and whistled.

Once Zhou Qing left, the pretentious "harmony" in the banquet hall completely crumbled.

The remaining evil cultivators looked at each other, staring at each other, none of them in the mood for further politeness.

slip away.

They had just glanced at all the names on the target list.

They were all skilled fighters from other prominent families.

They're all tough nuts to crack; there's not a single easy one to eat.

We need to hurry back, sharpen our knives, clean our guns, and dig out all our hidden, underhanded tricks, otherwise we might make money in this business but not live to spend it.

As for why the Zhou family targeted the other families?

The heretical practitioners know this perfectly well, so it's not surprising at all.

What a load of rubbish! The Eight Great Families of Caiyun make it sound like they're brothers who grew up wearing the same pair of open-crotch pants, all talk about being of one mind and helping each other.

Pooh.

You're kidding me.

Behind the scenes, they are more adept at tripping each other up, using underhanded tricks, and stabbing each other in the back than they are at framing their fellow practitioners.

The only difference is that aristocratic families care about their reputation; when they do something wrong, they have to put on a "white glove" and maintain a certain level of decorum.

heretical practice?

Evil cultivation is like those gloves—the kind you use and then throw away, not caring if they get dirty.

Over the years, which family hasn't secretly gone to them to cause trouble or create some mischief for the "brotherly family"?

Everyone here is a regular customer, and they're very familiar with the business.

only……

In the past, it was always the butler who would step in, or find a completely unrelated agent, slip them some spirit stones, hand them a note, and tell them to "do it cleanly".

Like today—

The head of the second branch of the Zhou family personally intervened.

A big spender, hiring dozens of notorious thugs in one go.

With clearly stated prices, the target is undoubtedly key figures from several other companies…

This tastes a bit off.

The seasoned, cunning practitioners exchanged glances, their minds filled with unease.

The Zhou family is...

Don't you want to keep a semblance of decency anymore?

Are they about to flip the table and start a public showdown?

Is it about to completely break ties with the other companies and start a war?

The moment this thought crossed their minds, several quick-thinking individuals felt a chill run down their spines.

When powerful families go to war, it's no small matter.

That means real fighting, bloodshed, and it won't end until one side is completely defeated and devoured.

These "gloves" who take money to do things are caught in the middle...

The heretical practitioners shook their heads, banishing this ominous thought.

What's it to me?

When the sky falls, the tall ones will hold it up.

What does it matter to these rats in the gutter if powerful families fight and many cultivators die?

Pay me, and I'll get things done.

Once the business is done, take the money and leave.

As for who lives and who dies, who wins and who loses...

Who cares?

Thinking of the spiritual herbs and magical treasures Zhou Qing promised, the prices were enough to make any cultivator envious...

The doubts and unease in the hearts of the heretical cultivators were instantly burned away by the flames of greed.

Let's start a war!

The fiercer the better!

The more chaotic it is, the easier it is to slack off and... to raise prices on the spot.

Some of the most cunning individuals have even started plotting to take advantage of the chaos to profit from both sides, or even from multiple sources...

In the dim light, silent, greedy smiles slowly spread across faces that were either contorted or numb.

What family feuds, what big picture?

Neither of these can provide the same sense of security as the spirit stones in your pocket or the juicy meat that's about to be in your mouth.

What a load of bull!

If you pay enough, you'd sell even your own father.