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

"Wait! Wait a minute!!"

"Stop! Stop! Stop—!!!!"

"Stop smoking! Stop the fuck!!!"

The referee finally realized what was happening, his usually serious square face turning bright red, his eyes practically bulging out of their sockets.

He rushed into the arena and snatched the blood-stained leather whip from Ji Zuodao's hand, which was still whistling through the air.

Ji Zuodao flicked his wrist, deftly dodging the attack, and then promptly lashed out with a whip crack before stopping, seemingly unsatisfied. He turned to look at the referee, his face a mixture of innocence and confusion.

"Referee, what's wrong? I'm in the middle of a call, at a crucial moment!"

"Go to hell with your interrogation!!"

The iron-willed referee nearly choked on his breath, his finger trembling as he pointed at the prisoner impaled on the wooden donkey, whose eyes were already rolling back in his head. His voice was hoarse.

"I'm letting you interrogate! Do you understand interrogation?! It's questioning! It's psychological warfare! It's strategy!!"

"This isn't a place for you to fucking torture and extract confessions!!"

"Besides, you should at least ask first! Did you even ask?! Huh?! Did you even utter a single word?! You just shoved someone into this... this thing! And then you started whipping them! Whipping them like firecrackers going off during Chinese New Year!"

The referee grew increasingly angry as he spoke, his fingertips trembling as he pointed at the wooden donkey that was still swaying slightly.

I had long heard that the Jinghai Branch had a tough style of handling cases and unique interrogation methods, and today I truly experienced it for myself!

Is this fucking unique?

This is clearly the pinnacle of evil, a model of a demon!

Where did they learn interrogation techniques? The Northern Garrison? The Embroidered Uniform Guard's prison? Or the Eastern or Western Depots?!

"Why didn't I ask?!"

Ji Zuo, speaking with righteous indignation, pointed to the dying prisoner on the wooden donkey and declared emphatically:

"I asked him if he would talk, but he was stubborn and wouldn't say a word! So I had to resort to some methods?!"

"Screw you, get hard!!!"

The iron-willed referee nearly choked, feeling his centuries-old composure about to crumble, and roared:

"Go ahead and ask me some questions! Name! Age! Place of origin! Crime details! Accomplices! Where did the stolen goods go!"

"Just ask him if he'll tell you, and what he'll say?"

"what?"

Ji Zuodao was truly stunned this time.

Hmm, that makes sense.

He tilted his head, looking at the furious referee, then at the prisoner on the wooden donkey, whose tearful eyes were straining to convey a pleading look that seemed to say, "Brother, I really want to say something."

There was a two-second silence.

then.

"Snapped!"

A crisp, resounding slap landed squarely on the prisoner's face.

Why the hell didn't you remind me?!

Ji Zuodao glared at him, his tone full of reproach, "How can you be so insensible?"

prisoner:"……"

He stared blankly at Ji Zuodao, tears streaming down his face, mixed with snot and blood, leaving several comical furrows on his swollen face.

That expression was three parts blank, three parts aggrieved, and four parts "What the hell did I do to deserve this?"

Finally, this prisoner, who had endured countless lashes without shedding a single tear, completely broke down under Ji Zuodao's soul-searching question.

"Waaaaah..."

He cried like a three-year-old who had his lollipop taken away, his cries so pitiful and desperate that they saddened those who heard them and brought tears to their eyes.

"I want to...I want to say it...sob..."

"You fucking...you fucking slapped me across the face with your first lash! My mouth is numb! I can't even speak properly! Waaaaah..."

"I've been stammering for ages, trying to say I'm confessing! But did you even hear me?! Did you even hear me?! You're fucking hitting me even harder now! Waaaaaah..."

She cried so hard it was heart-wrenching and deeply moving.

Every word is written in blood and tears, condemning this undeserved disaster.

referee:"……"

The investigators: "..."

An eerie silence fell over both the stage and the audience.

Only the prisoners' heartbroken cries echoed lonely across the empty field.

After listening to the prisoner's cries, Ji Zuodao scratched his head, a look of realization crossing his face, before quickly shifting the blame:

"Then why don't you gesture, wink, or even write with your feet if all else fails... You have absolutely no initiative, no wonder you can only be a petty thief."

The prisoner cried even harder, gasping for breath, and looked like he was about to pass out.

"Alright! Shut up! All of you, shut up!"

Referee Tie felt his temples throbbing and his head throbbing terribly.

He took a deep breath, then another, using all his life's cultivation to suppress the urge to slap the brat in front of him to death.

"Now! Right now! Immediately! Put all this junk away!"

He pointed at the wooden donkey that exuded an ominous aura, gritting his teeth:

"Add one more rule! Effective immediately! During interrogation, no form of physical harm to the prisoner is permitted! Violators will be immediately convicted! Do you hear me?!"

Upon hearing this, Ji Zuodao pursed his lips and muttered under his breath:

"Tsk, what a hassle... Civilized interrogation is so inefficient..."

He said that, but his hands were quick to act.

He first grabbed the prisoner's shoulders and, like pulling a radish, pulled him off the wooden donkey with a "pop".

The prisoner screamed, his legs gave way, and he collapsed to the ground with a thud, his body still convulsing uncontrollably.

Ji Zuodao then squatted down and began to deal with the terrifying wooden donkey.

He first tried to stuff the wooden donkey entirely into the bulging human skin bag at his waist.

But the wooden donkey was quite large, and he was getting impatient. He acted roughly, grabbing one of the donkey's legs and shoving it in forcefully.

"Sizzle—!"

An ominous sound, like fabric tearing, rang out.

With such a rough tug, the opening of the leather bag was torn open, creating an even larger hole!

Immediately afterwards—

"Clatter! Clang!"

A jumble of oddly shaped, bizarre objects—objects so grotesque they sent chills down your spine—tumbled out of the tear and scattered across the floor.

The referee instinctively looked down.

The pupils trembled instantly.

Among the pile of things were skinning knives, branding irons, clamps with winches and ropes, and iron hooks covered in barbs and forked at the ends...

There were also a few abstractly designed ironwood and wood hybrid items that sent chills down your spine just by looking at them, whose purpose was completely unknown but were definitely not good things...

A dazzling array of items, gleaming with a cold light, exuding a menacing aura.

The iron-willed referee's eyelids began to twitch wildly, his mouth twitched, and he felt as if the blood vessels in his brain were bursting one by one.

"These...these..."

"You...you're an investigator from Bureau 749..."

"My personal storage bag... is filled with... these things?!"

"Is this some kind of 749 investigator or some kind of heretical practitioner?! Huh?!"

The soul-searching questions resounded through the heavens.

Ji Zuodao coughed twice, quickly picked up the items on the ground one by one, stuffed them haphazardly back into the bag, and explained righteously:

"Ahem, as a proud investigator of Bureau 749, isn't it normal for me to carry some necessary, professional tools with me to deal with all sorts of complex situations?"

"These...these are just tools! Yes, tools! Just like talisman cultivators need to carry cinnabar and yellow paper, and sword cultivators need to carry swords, it's perfectly normal!"

The more he talked, the more convinced he became of his point, and he straightened his back a bit.

"What kind of normal is this?!"

The referee finally lost his temper and swore, almost spitting on Ji Zuodao's face.

"What kind of legitimate investigator carries around a skinning knife, a branding iron, and a clamp?! Huh?!"

"Is that how you deal with complex situations?! You're preparing to create complex situations, aren't you?!"

"What the hell is this equipment procurement list from your Jinghai branch?! Who's the head of the logistics department?! I need to talk to him! I absolutely have to!!"

On stage, Mr. Zhang, who had been watching the play the whole time, finally couldn't help but raise his hand and rub his twitching mouth hard.

In a daze, he seemed to see the Ming Dynasty's Imperial Guard Northern Garrison hundreds of years ago, those Imperial Guard officers who were all smiles but whose methods were terrifying, excitedly discussing which of the newly arrived torture instruments was better...

That temperament, that style, that sense of entitlement...

They're not completely unrelated, but they're exactly the same.

"This kid..."

"If this were back then..."

"He's definitely a potential commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard."

"They don't need to be taught; they were born to do this."

"To be a chief executioner in the imperial prison is a waste of his talents."