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

As soon as Ji Zuodao had a thought, the "old buddies" in his spiritual sea received the command and instantly became restless.

"Buzzing..."

A faint yet chilling flapping sound rang out in the silent forest.

One o'clock, two o'clock, ten o'clock, one hundred o'clock...

Crimson, blood-red spots of light, like will-o'-the-wisps rising from a graveyard in the dead of night, quietly emerged from Ji Zuodao's spiritual sea.

Bloodwinged black mosquito.

Densely packed, covering the sky and the earth.

They hovered behind Ji Zuodao, their wings vibrating rapidly, emitting a death-stricken low cry.

Countless compound eyes, gleaming with greedy and cold light, locked onto the "human-shaped roast meat" billowing smoke in front of them.

They would swarm forward and suck Fa Ming dry, or... make him so happy he would lose his mind.

Ji Zuodao rubbed his hands together, his smile as bright as a flower, and walked step by step toward Faming.

He was muttering to himself:

"Monk, don't be afraid, it will be quick."

"You should experience the same suffering that Dog Master endured..."

"I guarantee you'll experience ecstasy and reach the Western Paradise!"

He raised his hand, about to swing it down—

This adds another vivid and unforgettable chapter to the suffering of this bald monk.

At that critical moment, just as the blood-winged black mosquito arched its body, preparing to pounce—

On the ground lay the "human-shaped roasted meat," seemingly charred beyond recognition by the karmic fire within its body, utterly unresponsive to the outside world...

Suddenly, I opened my eyes!

Those eyes had no pupils, only two burning golden flames, intertwined with pain and madness!

His gaze, like a red-hot branding iron, was precisely fixed on Ji Zuodao's beaming face.

Then, all around Ji Zuodao were the dense, poised, blood-winged black mosquitoes.

Faming's lips, already chapped and peeling from the high temperature, twitched slightly.

A hoarse, broken voice, yet carrying an eerie calm and certainty, like the last gasp of a dying beast, was forced out and slammed into Ji Zuodao's eardrums:

"etc……"

"Fa'an, that old dog... is my inner demon..."

"I'm dead..."

"He won't survive either."

……

The air seemed to freeze completely at that moment.

Ji Zuodao's bright, malicious smile froze instantly.

The raised hand hovered in mid-air.

Behind them, the swarms of blood-winged black mosquitoes buzzing and poised to pounce seemed to have been paused, frozen in place.

Only the rustling of the night wind through the treetops and the hissing sound of the karmic fire burning within Faming's body continued.

Is Doge his inner demon?

Heart demon?

Dog Lord?

Ji Zuodao's mind went blank for a moment, as if someone had hit him hard in the ear with a gong. He was a little dazed and confused.

My first thought was: Holy crap! Doggy isn't a dog?!

Actually, Ji Zuodao had never really figured out what was wrapped under Dog Master's shiny black dog skin since he was a child.

When he was a child, he thought that Dog Grandpa had to be a dog.

Why?

Because Dog Lord is just too much of a dog!

When urinating, one must always lift one leg, whether standing, lying down, or prone. Even if both hind legs are off the ground, one leg must stubbornly and persistently be raised.

They even specifically choose places with "strategic significance," like old tree roots or corners of walls, to mark their location. If they can't find a suitable spot, they might just endure the whole journey in a stuffy, confined space!

Guarding the house, chasing chickens and ducks, stealing leftovers from the kitchen, snoring while sunbathing...

Their behavior patterns are not exactly the same as those of the stray dogs in the village down the mountain; they are practically identical.

Later, as I grew up and became more sensible, my self-cultivation improved, and my eyesight became sharper.

Ji Zuodao could occasionally "accidentally" glimpse that under Dog Master's precious dog skin, there seemed to be something that wasn't so "dog-like."

The shadowy eyeballs, the sticky tentacles, and the eerie aura that sends chills down your spine.

At that time, Ji Zuodao could only mutter to himself: Oh, so Dog Lord is a monster with a particularly whimsical and abstract appearance.

It's a bit ugly, but once you get used to it, it's quite unique.

He never even considered the possibility of "inner demons"!

Aren't inner demons supposed to be shadowy, shapeless, dirty things that burrow into people's hearts and incite evil thoughts?

Whose inner demons are always peeing with their legs up, eyeing leftovers in the kitchen, and chasing after food faster than a dog chasing a rabbit the moment it's mealtime?!

This is unreasonable!

But Faming's words...

A flash of inspiration struck Ji Zuodao, and suddenly, with a "snap," he remembered an old story he had almost forgotten.

It was the time he went on a mission with Dog Master to deliver supplies to their colleagues who were trapped in a strange realm.

I accidentally stumbled into that eerie, supernatural place that's like my grandmother's house.

That godforsaken place has another rule—the Heart-Stealing Demon.

As long as it's a living being, any shady thoughts or hidden filth in its mind will be dragged out and transformed into a demon with a nose and eyes, dedicated to opposing you.

It gave the inner demons a real physical form.

That's how Ji Zhengdao was lured out.

But that time...

Ji Zuodao frowned, trying hard to recall.

From beginning to end, it seems, perhaps, probably... I really didn't see Dog's inner demons show up?

But the scene was chaotic at the time, and he couldn't pay attention to anything else; only a fleeting question crossed his mind.

Later, when Dog didn't mention it, he didn't ask any more questions.

When Dog wants to say something, he will say it.

This is the tacit understanding between them.

Now, Faming's words are like a key, clicking open the lock that held so much doubt.

That makes sense!

Dog Lord himself is a demon in his own heart, so what's the point of trying to manipulate the rules of that strange realm?

You can't just pull yourself out of it, can you? That would be like fighting with both hands.

"Holy shit!"

Having figured this out, Ji Zuodao felt a sudden jolt of anxiety.

Damn it, what if this bald monk wasn't lying and was actually telling the truth...?

Now, isn't this situation just a case of the worst-case scenario unfolding before the worst possible time—it's absolutely terrible!

Doggy is Faming's inner demon. If Faming is burned alive by karmic fire, Doggy will also perish.

No! Absolutely not!

Ji Zuodao hurriedly turned his head and looked at Faming again.

In just a short time, the old monk became even more familiar with the place.

The bright red kasaya was charred and curled at the edges, sparking tiny embers.

His skin was reddish-black with a sheen, as if it had been coated with oil. The smoky, burnt smell in the air, reminiscent of overcooked barbecue, grew increasingly pungent.

"grass!"

Ji Zuodao couldn't help but curse aloud, pointing at Faming's nose and launching into a tirade:

"You bald, filthy monk! What kind of nonsense is that going on in your head all day long?!"

"Calm down! Calm down, you bastard! Do you understand?! If you keep thinking like this, you won't be a roasted sweet potato anymore, you'll turn into a roasted suckling pig, believe it or not?!"

"Are those widows down the mountain really that pretty? Huh? You risked your life for them, and now you're still thinking about them even as you're about to die?!"

The few remaining veins on Faming's forehead throbbed with anger.

He was so angry he was practically smoking—oh wait, he was already smoking.

"You..." His lips trembled, wanting to curse back, but as soon as he opened his mouth, a cloud of black smoke billowed out, choking him and making him cough.

That bastard is even more infuriating than his master. How come a perfectly normal person has a mouth?