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

Ji Zuodao, seeing Zhou Mu's "I'll just stay in my shell and see who suffocates first" attitude, was so happy that his back teeth were showing.

He flicked his hand and threw several more streams of dark energy, which were indeed caught firmly by the golden light shield without even causing a ripple.

Good grief, so they've really retreated into their shells and are planning a war of attrition?

Ji Zuodao raised an eyebrow, his wicked schemes churning in his mind.

Who can outlast me, Daoist Master?

I'm a young man in the prime of my life, how could I possibly outlive you, an old man half-buried in a coffin?

His eyes darted around, and an idea came to him.

Trying to whittle down your health bar, huh?

Alright, let's see who can wear us down more, and who gets worn down first!

With a thought, a large swarm of blood-winged black mosquitoes, which had been unable to restrain themselves for a long time, burst out from their spiritual sea with a buzz.

They rushed straight towards the Hundred-Eyed Demon Lord's Dharma Image in the distance.

These mosquitoes must have been starving for a long time; they'll suck on anything and everything.

"Puff puff puff puff—"

The mosquitoes crashed into the golden dome, instantly swarming together, their proboscis plunging in without hesitation, and began to suckle frantically.

The once brilliant and solid golden shield dimmed and thinned at a visible speed, as if its essence had been drained away.

Zhou Mu initially paid no attention, inwardly scoffing:

How much can mere insects absorb? With my profound spiritual power, replenishing the shield is just a matter of a flick of my finger.

He casually conjured another layer of golden light.

Anyway, he's made up his mind to retreat and see who can outlast whom.

"Um?"

Not long after, Zhou Mu realized something was wrong.

I feel that the rate at which my spiritual energy is draining away is a bit off.

Why are the intervals between patching the mask getting shorter and shorter?

The consumption is also increasing?

He subconsciously glanced outwards—

That one glance almost shattered his two-hundred-year-old Dao heart.

Above the Dharma image, the sky was no longer clear and bright, but instead dark clouds loomed overhead!

No, that's not a cloud!

It was a swarm of mosquitoes, layer upon layer, rolling and surging, emitting a low buzzing sound!

They blotted out the sky and covered the sun; there were countless of them!

The ball that Ji Zuodao released earlier was merely a spark that could start a wildfire.

At this moment, this spark has transformed into a raging inferno that burns the heavens through some strange means!

A swarm of mosquitoes, having feasted on the golden light, flew away contentedly.

The next wave surged up immediately like a black tide, seamlessly following.

"What the hell is going on?!"

Zhou Mu was so shocked that his face turned pale, and he hurriedly scanned his surroundings with his divine sense.

Upon seeing this, they were utterly terrified.

Countless blood-winged black mosquitoes were desperately plunging their proboscis into the churning Netherworld Blood Sea below, frantically absorbing its energy.

With each bite, the mosquito's body swells, its abdomen splits open, and dozens or even hundreds of new, smaller black mosquitoes gush out!

Vampire Sea, giving birth to offspring;

The cub goes to the Blood Sea again, and breeds again...

Their descendants will continue endlessly!

Meanwhile, the water level of the blood sea, which was being frantically drained of energy, slowly dropped.

As soon as the sea of ​​blood descended, the "pump" that had been clinging to his supernatural domain like a malignant tumor immediately increased its power, squeezing out the little spiritual energy left in his body even more fiercely!

Holy crap!!!

Zhou Mu finally understood, and a surge of evil fire, a mixture of absurdity, anger, and frustration, rushed straight to the top of his head.

After all that, this swarm of mosquitoes was draining my spiritual energy, laying its eggs, and then finally trying to gnaw on my golden shield?!

So, from beginning to end, I was the only one struggling to support your three generations of grandparents and grandchildren in terms of food, drink, diapering, reproduction, and growth?!

This isn't just cheating anymore!

They're treating me like a renewable spiritual energy cow, an automatic teller machine, and a fully automated mosquito farm!

"Hehehe..."

Above the blood-red wave, Ji Zuodao stood on one leg. Although his face was ashen and yellow as a withered leaf, black blood was still slowly seeping from his seven orifices.

But the smile in his eyes was so bright it could illuminate the surrounding gloom, and the curve of his mouth was so despicable it was outrageous.

It really works!

I didn't dare to raise this thing in my spiritual sea before, for fear of being sucked dry and turned into a dried corpse.

Now...

If a willing sucker is willing to pay the electricity bill, provide feed, and even handle after-sales service, why not raise them freely?

Give me as many babies as you can!

Until the end of time, until not a single drop of spiritual power can be squeezed out of this old coffin!

Zhou Mu was really anxious at this moment, so anxious that his gums were burning, his throat was dry, and his bladder was bloated.

If he could actually pee now, it would definitely be yellow, so yellow it could be used as paint.

I was holding it in.

It was from being so angry that I held it in.

His spiritual power was draining away at an unprecedented rate.

The Yellow Flower Temple needs spiritual energy to survive, and the parasitic sea of ​​blood is desperately pumping water out of it. Now, an overwhelming army of mosquitoes is frantically breeding and sucking its blood...

Triple exploitation! Layer upon layer of exploitation!

The landlord's house was so poor that even a mouse would have to leave with tears in its eyes, and they would leave it a couple of copper coins.

He now places all his hopes on Ji Zuodao—

This little bastard should be poisoned and die on the spot!

Once this kid dies, the sea of ​​blood will collapse, the mosquito swarm will be leaderless, and the crisis will resolve itself.

Can……

Zhou Mu's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he stared intently at the swaying figure on the sea of ​​blood.

Not right.

It's not right.

That little bastard vomited so much black blood it almost filled a basin.

The foul blood flowing from his seven orifices stained his chest with a dark brown color.

The last trace of color in his face had completely faded, leaving a withered, ashen sallow complexion...

It really looked like a ghost, barely clinging to life.

But this feeling...

Isn't it hanging way too damn long?!

Is this kid putting on an act for me?

wrong……

Zhou Mu knew better than anyone the power of this strange poison.

Back then, he was a real poisoner who overpowered his rival, whose cultivation was half a head higher, causing his internal organs to rot and leaving him groaning for three days before finally dying.

Even if this kid is incredibly wicked and his techniques are bizarre, he should have reached his limit after enduring this for so long.

On the sea of ​​blood, Ji Zuodao diligently maintained his "life hanging by a thread" performance while silently hypnotizing himself:

I'm going to die... I'm really going to die...

It seems like all the internal organs have shifted...

My vision went black, and my ears were ringing...

Hmm, this feels more real, have some more...

He tried to evoke emotions and make himself appear more "dying".

There's no way around it; the methods for cultivating life force are just that simple, unadorned, and tedious.

I've become so adept at fighting off the virus that my body is almost developing resistance.

To put it another way, this incredibly potent poison is currently stuck at 99.9% of its destructive progress.

It was just that 0.1% difference at the final step.

But this final jolt is like a network connection stuck at the last bit of speed, refusing to budge.

It's like the last stubborn act of a constipated person—the feeling comes, but they just can't seem to get it out.

It was uncomfortable and embarrassing.

What could Ji Zuodao do? He was desperate too!

All I can do is keep acting, try my best to act, and portray that delicate state of "I'm repeatedly jumping on the edge of death but I just can't jump down."

I don't know if the acting is good or not, if it's professional or not, or if it can fool that old coffin-stuff...

at last.

Zhou Mu stared at Ji Zuodao's "swaying back and forth to the Bridge of Helplessness" posture for a full ten minutes.

The more I looked at it, the more something seemed off.

This kid is swaying like he's about to die; his face looks deathly pale, and he's even spitting out blood with great professionalism...

But here's the problem—

You've been swaying for almost twenty minutes now!

From waltz to tango, from robot dance to social dance, it's almost swaying to the rhythm of disco!

What's wrong?

Are you having a personal dance party here?