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

When Zhou Mu glanced at Ji Zuodao's smile, his heart skipped a beat.

Damn, he's got a sly streak; he's definitely up to no good.

really.

Ji Zuodao raised his hand, grabbed a patch of skin on his chest, and with a quick pull of his fingers, tore it open—

"Sizzle!"

That body was torn open like a rag!

Beneath the laceration, there was no sign of a gruesome scene of disembowelment or severed heart and liver.

The skin was clearly intact, full of blood and energy, without a trace of blood.

Zhou Mu's mind went blank with a "buzz".

Ji Zuodao grabbed the tear with both hands and ripped it apart forcefully!

"Sizzle—!"

The entire human skin, like a costume that had been removed, was cleanly and neatly torn off from head to toe and casually thrown into the churning sea of ​​blood below.

The wave of blood swept through and vanished without a trace.

Ji Zuodao stood there perfectly fine.

Her complexion was rosy, her breathing was steady, and even the previous feeling of unsteadiness and unease had vanished.

Not only was he near death from poisoning, but he didn't even lose a single hair.

In the distance, the phantom of the Grim Reaper, who was swinging his scythe in preparation to deliver another vicious blow to the Hundred-Eyed Demon Lord, suddenly froze.

Two crimson lights flickered a few times beneath the hood, seemingly trying to understand—

Where is the summoner? How did such a large, still-warm offering provider just vanish in an instant?

"What are you standing there for?"

Ji Zuodao glanced at the stunned Grim Reaper, his tone as casual as if he were addressing a dog staring blankly on the street:

"The work isn't finished yet, keep going."

As he spoke, he pulled out a piece of skin as thin as a cicada's wing, yet complete with facial features, from somewhere, shook it in the wind, and skillfully draped it over his body.

A faint light flickered, and the skin adhered to it.

That blond-haired, blue-eyed, high-nosed, deep-set-eyed "Dreyer," with his foreign-looking face, stood perfectly fine on the blood-red wave.

The phantom of death sensed the reappearance of the "Summoner's" aura. Although something seemed amiss, the feedback from the contract was undeniable.

And so, the once-dormant, jet-black scythe rose silently once more, and the aura of death locked onto the Hundred-Eyed Demon Lord once more.

Wearing Derek's face, Ji Zuodao grinned at the distant image of the Hundred-Eyed Demon Lord, revealing a set of white teeth:

"Surprised? Unexpected?"

"Old man, this is the second human skin that I've used."

"According to my rules, exchanging two human skins for twenty of yours isn't unreasonable, is it?"

"Don't worry, I'm skilled enough to peel it quickly and completely, so it won't delay your reincarnation."

He was really craving it.

The supernatural powers of this "Yellow Flower Temple" are truly insidious when it comes to harming people, and truly deceitful when it comes to swindling them.

Golden light traps people, strange poisons are everywhere, slowly grinding away blood, scraping until death.

If this falls into his hands, he can make a mess of it, making it ten times dirtier than this old coffin.

"Pfft!"

Ji Zuodao raised his knife and cut open his chest again, beginning to rip out his heart and lungs without changing his expression.

Sacrifice! Sacrifice as much as you can!

Anyway, they're all fake products simulated by cultivation techniques; they're empty and unreal.

As long as Death acknowledges it, that's fine.

"..."

Zhou Mu's hands and feet were ice cold, and a chill ran from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head, making his teeth chatter.

What the hell are you talking about?!

Using my blue bar is one thing!

After all that fighting, your health bar is someone else's!

I'm here fighting tooth and nail, sacrificing my very essence, and you're out there putting on a "human skin fashion show" with unlimited refills?!

Zhou Mu felt that his worldview, along with his two hundred years of cultivation knowledge, was being crushed to the ground and repeatedly rubbed against the sole of his spiked shoe by this little bastard in front of him.

He cultivated for over a hundred years, fought magical battles, killed people, explored secret realms, and was struck by lightning...

What kind of insidious tricks and cunning schemes haven't I seen?

But someone as shameless as this...

I have never seen it before!

This is no longer a contest of magic.

This is fucking a scam! It's commercial fraud!!

Damn it, do you have any conscience?

You even lied to an old man like me!

"Old man, want to fight again?"

"If you want to fight, I, the Daoist, am ready to oblige. I'll provide plenty of human skin."

"I won't fight..."

His smile vanished, his eyes turned icy, and the aura of death behind him surged dramatically.

"Then wash yourself clean and wait patiently as I skin you alive."

I'm going all out for this round.

We have no choice but to work hard.

Run? Run my ass.

If I withdraw this supernatural power, that little bastard's sea of ​​blood will immediately pounce on me.

Either way, it's all the same – death.

"Little beast——!!"

A roar, unlike a human voice.

combustion.

Lifespan is burning, essence and blood are burning, origin is burning.

That was a kind of madness that cut off the lifeline and wiped out the family line.

No more alive!

I'll drag you down with me!

"Give it to me—explode it!!"

The golden light surged from the thousand golden pupils of the Hundred-Eyed Demon Lord's Dharma Form.

It was unprecedentedly intense and violent, like a volcano that had been suppressed for thousands of years, erupting with a roar!

Half the sky was dyed a chilling dark gold.

The phantom of the Grim Reaper wielding the giant scythe was the first to be overwhelmed, imprisoned, and squeezed by the unreserved golden tide!

"Squeak—!!!"

A tooth-grinding, ear-piercing sound, as if metal were being twisted by a tremendous force.

The Grim Reaper's massive body was enveloped in countless golden lights, and his movements froze instantly, like an insect trapped in amber.

Become!

Zhou Mu was overjoyed, ignoring the wave of weakness and excruciating pain emanating from his body, and his eyes flashed with a fierce light.

Take advantage of his illness and kill him!

"Die—!!!"

The Hundred-Eyed Demon Lord took a step forward, and the ancient bronze sword in his hand cleaved down with force!

The giant sword, tens of meters long, tore through the air and cleaved through the waves of blood, rapidly magnifying in Ji Zuodao's seemingly mocking blue eyes.

Then--

"Clang—!!!"

It struck him squarely.

Golden light exploded, and sword energy crisscrossed.

That figure, along with the surging sea of ​​blood around him, was completely submerged and torn apart by this sword strike.

"Ha ha ha ha……"

The Hundred-Eyed Demon Lord's Dharma form floated in mid-air.

Zhou Mu's hoarse, intermittent laughter emanated from the Dharma image, carrying the exhaustion of surviving a catastrophe and a twisted sense of pleasure.

"I... have won!"

"It wasn't in vain...it wasn't in vain that I burned away decades of my lifespan..."

"You little bastard, no matter how cunning you are, in the end you'll drink my foot bath water..."

He laughed, panting, feeling his life force rapidly draining away and his spiritual energy nearly depleted.

Worth it.

It was all worth it.

However, the laughter suddenly caught in his throat.

Like an old duck with its neck being gripped by an invisible hand.

The ecstasy on Zhou Mu's face gradually froze, and then was replaced by a bewildered, spreading sense of horror.

and many more.

wrong.

That's not right.

Why...

The sea of ​​blood beneath my feet is still churning?

He slowly, very stiffly, lowered his head.

The dark red waves of blood continued to surge.

The swarms of mosquitoes, darkening the sky, continued to hover.

The sea of ​​blood has not dispersed.

The swarm of mosquitoes hasn't dispersed.

How could that be?

The Grim Reaper, trapped by his golden light, had clearly begun to vanish...

That little beast, he had clearly already been stabbed by him...

A huge shadow loomed over him.

Zhou Mu's breathing stopped.

A chilling cold, enough to freeze the soul, surged up the spine like a venomous snake, instantly engulfing every part of the body.

"Gulp."

Zhou Mu heard himself swallowing hard.

He slowly, very slowly, twisted his stiff neck toward his back—

then.

He saw it.

A terrifyingly powerful image stood there silently.

Standing on a lotus platform, draped in a blood-red robe, and wielding two swords.

"!!!"

The pupils of Zhou's eyes shrank to pinpoints.

My mind went completely blank.

Even the soul freezes at this moment.

This...this is...

"The stuffing of an old coffin."

A familiar voice, chilling to the bone and tinged with a lazy laugh, came from the direction of the terrifying image, so clear it seemed to whisper right in his ear.

"Surprised?"

"Surprised?"

"One sword and you've shattered my skin..."

The voice paused, the laughter deepened, but it was chillingly cold.

"I'll return it to you, Daoist Master—"

The image of the Styx Ancestor moved.

There was no earth-shattering fanfare.

It was just a simple matter of raising both hands.

The two longswords, each entwined with the vengeful spirits of the Blood River, crossed over each other, one on the left and one on the right.

Cut it down.

"—Two swords."

"No--!!!"

Zhou Mu let out the most mournful, desperate, and futile roar of his life.

The Hundred-Eyed Demon Lord's Dharma Form subconsciously raised the scarred bronze ancient sword, its thousand golden eyes desperately bursting forth with their last brilliance, attempting to block and struggle.

"Clang—Click!!!"

The first strike landed on the ancient bronze sword.

The sword couldn't even withstand the force for a moment. Like fragile glass, it shattered with a deafening roar, its fragments scattering in all directions, mixed with the dissipating golden light.

The second sword strike followed immediately.

"laugh--"

Time seemed to stretch out infinitely at this moment.

Zhou Mu stared blankly at the rapidly spreading and expanding dark crack on his own image.

Looking at the two sides of the crack, the Dharma body, like a weathered sand sculpture, silently collapsed and dissipated.