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

Ji Zuodao dragged Zhou Mu deeper into the inner courtyard, still pondering:

Given the professional skills of these wicked cultivators in ruthlessly exploiting every opportunity, they should have already emptied their pockets and finished their work, squatting in some corner counting their money and having a good time.

They had barely rounded the screen wall, and before they could even see anyone, they heard a noise—

"Snapped!"

"Awooo—!!"

"Tell me! Where did you hide it?!"

"Slap! Slap!"

"Ahhh! It's really gone! It's really gone!"

The sounds of whips whistling through the air, screams of agony, curses, and questions mingled together, creating a scene as lively as a pig slaughter during Chinese New Year.

Ji Zuodao raised an eyebrow and strolled into the inner courtyard.

Good guy.

Zhou Qing, the second son of the Zhou family who had been so confident and self-assured not long ago, was now bound hand and foot and hung from a horizontal branch of the old locust tree in the center of the courtyard.

Its feet barely touched the ground, swaying back and forth like a dried-out salted fish.

A group of heretical cultivators surrounded them, each with a ruddy complexion—

It wasn't excitement, it was just exhaustion from searching.

They were lining up, taking turns whipping Zhou Qing with barbed leather whips they'd somehow found.

"Snapped!"

With one lash, Zhou Qing's finely made clothes were torn, and the skin underneath instantly swelled up and bled.

"Awooo—! Stop hitting us! It's really all gone! You've emptied the warehouse!"

Zhou Qing cried until her face was covered in snot and tears, and her voice was hoarse from wailing, sounding like a broken bellows.

"My lords! Heroes! Grandfathers! Ancestors! Even if I had ten lives, I wouldn't dare hold back now!"

"Trust me! You must trust me!"

"Screw you!"

A wicked cultivator with a face full of scars and a blue-faced demon tattooed on his arm spat.

He lashed out again, the whip striking Zhou Qing's inner thigh precisely—

The flesh there was tender, and the pain made Zhou Qing's whole body twitch, his eyes rolling upwards.

"Are you trying to fob me off like a beggar? The stuff in the storeroom isn't even enough to fill a tooth gap!"

"I've seen it all! When your Zhou family was displaying spirit stones, the scene was spectacular. The grass was as big as a football field, completely covered! Under the sunlight, it was so dazzling it made your eyes water!"

"And you've piled on several layers of this! Afraid it'll get moldy? You guys are rolling in money and burning it out!"

He grew angrier as he spoke, and raised his hand to lash out with the whip twice more.

"Trying to outsmart me? Didn't expect that, did you? Someone took a picture of you showing off your spirit stones!"

Zhou Qing felt incredibly wronged; absurd and desperate emotions exploded in her chest, and she cried so hard she almost passed out.

"Injustice! Utter injustice! This is a fabrication! It's slander! It's blatant defamation!"

"Our Zhou family does have some money, but we can't keep up with the sheer number of people! Several thousand people in total, food, supplies for the horses, cultivation expenses, and networking—every month it's an astronomical sum!"

"Who...who would hoard a whole football field's worth of spirit stones for no reason?! Are they saving them up to breed?!"

His words were sincere and logically sound, but unfortunately...

The evil cultivators exchanged a glance and shook their heads in unison.

Do not believe.

We only believe what we see with our own eyes.

There are photos, irrefutable evidence! Do you still dare to deny it?

"Okay, okay!"

The green-faced demon cultivator, enraged, laughed coldly, pointed at Zhou Qing, and said to a gaunt old man who had been watching the show with his arms crossed:

"Old Liu, see that? He looks like a coward, but who knew he was such a tough nut to crack! His mouth's as hard as a dead duck! I'm starting to admire him!"

The gaunt old man, known as "Old Liu," slowly lowered his arm, revealing a set of rotten teeth stained yellow from smoking. He smiled but said nothing.

He simply took out an oilcloth bag from his pocket and unfolded it.

Inside, neatly arranged, were dozens of thin, willow-leaf-sized knives of varying lengths, gleaming coldly.

He drew a small knife, about an inch long with a slightly curved blade, tested the edge with his thumb, nodded in satisfaction, and then looked up at Zhou Qing, his voice hoarse like sand rubbing together:

"The craftsmanship passed down from my ancestors hasn't been used for some years."

"Lingchi (death by a thousand cuts) is all about the number of cuts. An ordinary man who can withstand 3,600 cuts without dying is considered to have passed the test."

He sized Zhou Qing up and down, his gaze like that of someone assessing the fatness of a piece of pork, then shook his head.

"You... you've lost some weight, and your energy has deteriorated, but you're still a Qi cultivator, so I'd guess you can only manage seven or eight thousand cuts at most."

As he spoke, he held the small knife and slowly approached.

The blade reflected the lingering afternoon light, shimmering in Zhou Qing's wide, terrified pupils.

"Last chance."

Old Liu stopped in front of Zhou Qing, the tip of his knife lightly touching his heart.

"Where did the Zhou family hide all their valuables?"

"There are definitely more than just a few dozen thousand-year-old medicinal herbs and thousand-year-old fruits..."

Immediately, a heretical cultivator chimed in, his tone dripping with jealous sourness:

"Damn it, that little bit of stuff isn't even enough for one meal for your dog! We've found out! Your Zhou family's watchdog gets every single meal—every single meal—of thousand-year-old spiritual fruits! And they only pick the biggest and best-quality ones!"

"puff--!"

Upon hearing this, Zhou Qing coughed up a mouthful of blood, tears streaming down his face even more fiercely than when he had been whipped.

"No! Really, no! What are you talking about?!"

"A thousand-year-old spiritual fruit? Every meal? And fed to the dog?!"

His voice was so shrill it was almost distorted, and he cried out:

"If I received that kind of treatment, who would even be considered human?! I'd be wearing a collar and wagging my tail at the door by now!!"

"Waaaah... I've lived for over forty years, and I've only seen the millennium-old spiritual fruit twice! Once was for the ancestor's birthday, and the other was when the clan leader ascended the throne! I only smelled it! I didn't get to eat a single bite!"

These heart-wrenching cries, each word a tear of blood, saddened those who heard them and brought tears to their eyes.

however--

"Stubborn to the end." Old Liu shook his head regretfully, twirling his knife in a pretty flourish.

"laugh--"

A flash of light, like a butterfly, as the blade danced and fluttered.

Thin, almost transparent pieces of skin and flesh, as thin as rice paper, were peeled off Zhou Qing's body with the precise rise and fall of the willow-leaf dagger. They flew and tumbled down, tracing delicate arcs in the afternoon light.

After a brief period of numbness, excruciating pain surged like a tsunami.

"Aaaaaaaahh ...

Zhou Qing's screams instantly broke through the limits of human vocal range, echoing mournfully in the air above the ruins of the Zhou family.

Blood gradually seeped into the ground, and cries of agony continued unabated.

"Tsk tsk, this knife skill..."

Ji Zuodao, leaning against the moon gate, watched with shining eyes, and couldn't help but smack his lips, his stomach rumbling with an untimely urge to eat.

"Thin yet not broken, even yet not scattered, the words are probably visible through the light..."

"Hey, even I'm getting hungry looking at this. I want a plate of Peking duck, with the skin sliced ​​like this, dipped in white sugar..."

While he was pondering what to eat for dinner, Zhou Qing's agonizing screams on the other end of the line had taken on a dying tremor and were a final, desperate plea for salvation:

"Ancestor! Ancestor, save me—!!"

The voice was shrill and pierced the clouds.

They hadn't even shouted a few times yet.

"Shh...shh...shh..."

A screeching sound, like something being dragged, slowly approached from afar.

The evil cultivators instinctively turned around.

Ji Zuodao strolled in through the moon gate, one hand in his pocket and the other casually holding a person's leg.

The owner of the legs was upside down, face pressed against the ground.

Ji Zuodao dragged him along like a dead dog across the rubble-strewn ground.

Wherever it went, it left a shallow trail mixed with dust and a suspicious dark liquid.

At this moment, Zhou Mu is like a dead dog that has been half-run over by a car and then dragged out for a walk by a naughty child.

"..."

The inner courtyard fell silent instantly.

Only a faint, gurgling sound escaped from Zhou Qing's mouth, which she had forgotten to close due to the intense pain and shock.

Dozens of fierce-looking evil cultivators stared wide-eyed and gaped, their whips, knives, and newly looted treasures falling to the ground with a clatter.

Holy crap?!

The Zhou family patriarch?!

The Zhou family patriarch at the Divine Power Realm?!

He was... beaten up like this?!

They even dragged them out like a dead dog?!

After a brief silence.

"boom--!"

The group of heretical practitioners was in an uproar.

"My goodness! It really is the Zhou family patriarch!"

"Holy crap! This was done by the Taoist priest?!"

"Nonsense! Otherwise, how could the old man have fallen and injured himself like this?"

Shock, horror, disbelief...

But these emotions were quickly replaced by another, more direct and intense emotion—

worship!

An undisguised, almost fanatical worship of absolute power!

"Master Dao is mighty!!"

Someone yelled first, and then all the evil cultivators were in an uproar.

"Master Dao is so domineering!!"

"A feat of defying divine powers with a Dharma form! An unprecedented achievement throughout history!"

"It's more than just defying the heavens! Look at what this Daoist Master is wearing! Not even the hem of his clothes is disheveled!"