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

Ji Zuodao slapped his forehead, and the confusion in his mind suddenly cleared up, like the moon emerging from the clouds.

Yes, it's dragon energy.

Protected by dragon energy, how could just any Tom, Dick, or Harry possibly take advantage of him?

Regardless of whether the dynasty has turned over or not, the little ancestor, protected by the legacy of the true dragon, is in good spirits and cannot be shaken by ordinary means.

No wonder Qiqi's little brain can remember Dog Master; it turns out she has a built-in "firewall".

Ji Zuodao began to ponder himself again.

Logically speaking, a person like him—

His brain has always been a little different from ordinary people, so these kinds of mental tricks shouldn't be of much use to him.

In a game, wouldn't that be like having a "Mental Disorder Resistance +999" buff?

Wait, maybe it was precisely because of this resistance that he was able to suddenly recall the blurry image of "Dog Master" in the courtyard of that villa, as if experiencing a final burst of energy before death.

But that's exactly what's strange about it—

How come as soon as I returned to this Demon Management Office, it was as if I had drunk Meng Po soup diluted with water, and all that impression just vanished in an instant?

Distance? Location?

Ji Zuodao's eyes darted around as he glanced at the spacious, bright office that, at this moment, sent a chill down his spine.

Yes, the location.

There must be something in this room that shouldn't be there, quietly bothering him and trying to confuse him.

"Sure..."

Ji Zuodao grinned, but his smile lacked warmth and instead revealed a ruthless and unruly nature.

"Trying to play dirty tricks on me, huh? Hypnosis? Memory manipulation? You're really playing some pretty elaborate games."

He thought of his unreliable third master on Mount Ailao.

In response to these despicable methods of mental manipulation and memory concealment, the old man once taught a simple and brutal method that was said to be "guaranteed to teach and learn, and a one-time solution."

The method is very simple, just one step.

Find something hard and sharp enough, and give it a good whack on the head.

You have to stick it in, and it's best to stir it a bit more.

principle?

To paraphrase what the third master said back then, as he was pouring wine and spitting as he spoke:

"No matter how complicated the lock is, I'll smash the lock itself, and see if it can still lock! The same goes for the mental fog in your head; just physically clear it out, and none of those demonic or supernatural mental spells will work!"

At that time, Ji Zuodao thought that his third master was just drunk and talking nonsense again.

Now... he thinks he can give it a try.

Ji Zuodao slowly pulled something out of the wide sleeve of his uniform.

"Splash..."

It was a longsword made of vertebrae pieced together.

Its jagged joints exuded a chilling aura of death; the sword itself had no edge, yet a single glance sent shivers down one's spine.

Ji Zuodao flicked his wrist, executing a sleek sword flourish.

The spine sword sliced ​​through the air, emitting a low whistling sound, as if countless wronged souls were gasping for breath at the same time.

Then, under the stunned, bewildered, and gradually terrified gazes of the demons...

Ji Zuodao gripped the sword with both hands, the tip pointing towards his right temple.

"You little trick!!!" Su Xiaoxiao screamed, her face turning pale.

Ji Zuodao, however, acted as if nothing had happened, even muttering to himself, "Didn't Third Master say something like 'in one ear and out the other' back then? Oh well, it's pretty much accurate, symmetrical beauty..."

Before he could finish speaking...

"Pfft—"

A muffled thud, crisp and clean, sounding like a hot knife cutting into cold lard.

He gripped the menacing spine sword in his backhand and, with a steady, precise, and ruthless thrust, stabbed it into his right temple!

The sword tip pierced through the skin and flesh, shattered the skull, and entered the organ known as the most intricate and complex organ in the human body without any hindrance.

"Well--!"

Time seemed to be infinitely stretched and frozen at this moment.

All the monsters' eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, their minds went blank, and even their screams were stuck in their throats, leaving only heavy, frightening panting.

Ji Zuodao's hand gripping the sword hilt was very steady.

He even had the leeway to make a very slight, slow turn of his wrist.

It's like gently stirring tofu pudding with chopsticks, trying to distribute the braising liquid more evenly.

"Coo-choo..."

A faint, sticky, and extremely unsettling sound emanated from inside his skull.

A thick, dark red liquid mixed with grayish-white, unidentified flocculent matter slowly seeped out from the wound inflicted by the sword and from the skin of the other temple, which had cracked slightly due to pressure, gathering into drops.

"Da...da..."

One drop, two drops.

Thick, viscous "brain-blood liquid" with a strange, sweet, and rotten smell dripped onto the cheap composite floorboards.

"laugh--!"

A plume of white smoke suddenly shot up, accompanied by a pungent, acrid smell.

The floorboards seemed to have been corroded by strong acid, quickly turning black, softening, and sinking down to reveal the original color of the concrete underneath.

"Clatter".

Ji Zuodao loosened his grip.

The spine sword, stained with red and white substances, fell to the ground with a crisp clatter, rolled twice, and came to a stop beside the trash can.

The office was deathly silent.

You could hear a pin drop.

Then--

"Ho—!"

Ji Zuodao took a deep breath, the sound as loud as a broken bellows being pulled.

His previously unfocused gaze refocused at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Moreover, it was brighter and sharper than ever before, like glass that had been wiped clean of thick dust, radiating brilliant light!

"Hiss—ha—!!!"

He exhaled a long, satisfied breath, tinged with the smell of blood, and twisted his neck, his cervical bones cracking loudly.

His face and hair were covered in a sticky mixture of blood and brain matter, making him look less like a living person and more like a demon that had just crawled out of a pool of blood from hell.

But he was smiling.

His mouth stretched wider and wider, revealing teeth stained with blood. His shoulders shook as he laughed, a laugh that was both unrestrained and exhilarating, yet chilling to the bone.

"Damn...that feels so good! It feels absolutely wonderful!"

Ji Zuodao's voice was somewhat hoarse, yet it possessed an indescribable clarity and wildness.

He remembered.

I've remembered everything!

It's not a fragmented shadow, nor a vague feeling.

These were real, vivid memories, like a floodgate bursting open, crashing down the invisible barrier and refilling every corner of his mind—

At the summit of Lion Camel Ridge in the Ailao Mountains, there lives a large black dog that always likes to lie on the largest bluestone, basking in the sun and snoring loudly.

Its coat was as glossy as the finest silk, and its body was as robust as a young calf.

But his dog eyes were always droopy, and he looked at everyone with a lazy and disdainful attitude, as if he were looking down on ordinary mortals.

It is also particularly greedy, especially fond of stealing the aged wine that the master buried under the peach tree.

Every time she finished drinking, she would frame him.

Yes, this old dog loves to call himself "Master".

Dog Lord.

His dog.

Not a pet, but family, a comrade-in-arms, an old friend who has lived for countless years, doesn't speak the truth much, but is always reliable in crucial moments.

The return of memories brought warmth, but also a chilling anxiety and anger.

Who?

Who the hell dares to touch Ji Zuodao's dog?!