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

"Who are you?!"

An old monk with raised eyebrows and a fiery temper, Zhenjing, was the first to explode, shouting so loudly that his spittle almost landed on the roof beams.

They called it an interrogation, but these old bald monks were all cunning foxes, masters of tales from ancient times. They asked questions, but their actions were anything but lenient.

Before Zhenjing finished speaking, a palm-shaped hand, wrapped in a layer of pale golden Buddhist light, swung towards the fake Zhenqing's bald head with a powerful gust of wind that could subdue demons and monsters!

Almost at the same instant!

The other three old monks nearby, as if they had planned it together, suddenly sprang up at the same time!

One grabbed a Zen staff from the ground, another pointed his fingers like a sword, and the third simply pulled out a broken alms bowl from his robes and slammed it down on his head!

The attack came from all directions, from above, middle, and below, sealing off all escape routes!

Their angles were tricky, and their teamwork was excellent; they were clearly old partners who had worked side by side countless times.

These old monks knew exactly what was going on:

No matter who you are, take them down first! Cripple them, cripple them, we have plenty of ways to make you talk!

Buddhist temples are places of tranquility; they don't tolerate things like the Miranda warning!

however--

"Whoosh!"

All the attacks missed.

That chubby fake Zhenqing, right under their noses, such a big person, just vanished into thin air!

It wasn't a fleeting afterimage left by speed; it was a true, sudden disappearance, as if what had just been standing there was merely a soap bubble.

"Pop!" It broke, and that was it.

The old monks were unable to stop their attacks in time and almost collided with each other, staggering and looking disheveled.

"How is that possible?!"

Zhenjing steadied herself, her face showing a look of utter disbelief, and cold sweat poured down her forehead.

That combined attack just now looked simple, but it actually contained hidden tricks.

It includes various predictions and blocking techniques. No matter which angle the opponent dodges from, theoretically they will run into one of their attacks.

But the other person... just like that, gone?

"Relax, don't be nervous..."

A lazy, somewhat cynical voice drifted slowly from the doorway.

Everyone turned their heads sharply.

Suddenly, the fake Zhenqing appeared, standing at the door of the half-broken meditation room.

Moonlight streamed in through the opening in the roof above, casting a long shadow on the ground.

He still looked the same chubby guy, but his demeanor and temperament had completely changed.

He was no longer the compassionate and deeply affectionate monk he once was, but rather a loose, carefree street urchin, like someone who had just come back from looting his old man's gold coins.

"Me? I'm just a petty thief who wants to take advantage of the chaos to see if I can make a quick buck."

He shrugged, looking completely innocent. "I'm only after money, I won't kill anyone. I'll leave as soon as I get what I want, and I won't delay the masters from chanting sutras for the deceased."

Jia Zhenqing held the still-warm human skin in his hand, shook it in the dim light coming from the room, and squinted his eyes in satisfaction.

Admiring the twisted, eerie rune patterns that shimmered with a dark red glow.

"Tsk tsk, this is good stuff..."

He smacked his lips, as if savoring a piece of freshly cooked braised pork.

The old monks in the room, their eyes fixed on the human skin, especially the twisted runes, their pupils suddenly shrank to pinpoints!

They suddenly realized something and turned their heads in unison to look at the spot where the old monk Zhenying had just been sitting!

There, a blood-soaked figure sat motionless.

His entire body was a deep crimson, with muscle fibers, bluish-white veins, and pale yellow fat layers exposed nakedly to the air.

Bathed in moonlight and the dim light filtering through the room, it appeared particularly sinister and terrifying!

"Senior brother!!!"

Zhenjing and the others let out a piercing scream, their hearts breaking with terror!

The old monk Zhenying, who was also the blood-covered man, heard the exclamation and slowly lowered his head to look at his own body.

The smooth skin is gone, leaving only the original form of flesh and blood, trembling slightly in the air, and you can even see the blood flowing in the veins.

He raised his hand, looking at his muscular, skinless fingers with a blank and incredulous expression.

Where is my skin?

Has it been exposed?

When?

Why don't I feel anything at all?

Zhenying's mind was buzzing, like a pot of boiling porridge.

He had cultivated for hundreds of years and considered himself to have keen senses and extremely high vigilance. Let alone being skinned alive, he could instantly sense even the mere mention of his name!

But just now...

He felt absolutely no pain or anything unusual!

It was as if I had just taken a nap, and when I woke up, the skin was gone.

What kind of evil magic is this?!

"Relax, relax..."

Zhou Langchen leaned against the doorframe, a leisurely smile on his face, as if watching a play:

"Don't be afraid. Unlike my family's half-baked apprentice, my skills are professional."

"Completely painless, with an anesthesia effect comparable to imported anesthetics, guaranteeing you won't even have time to dream; you'll open your eyes and it'll be over!"

He paused, as if remembering something, and added:

"Oh, by the way, I just checked you out and also removed your hemorrhoids. You're welcome, it was nothing. Your hemorrhoids had been there for quite a while; if you hadn't had them removed, you'd have to meditate on your side, which would have affected your practice."

Zhou Langchen waved the human skin covered in runes in his hand, his smile turning somewhat sly.

"Consider this my payment. You know, these days, craftsmanship isn't cheap. Prices are skyrocketing; pork costs so much per pound. My fee for a human skin isn't too expensive, is it?"

He said this as if it were perfectly natural, as if he hadn't just skinned someone alive, but rather given them a haircut, trimmed their nails, and then collected a normal service fee.

"Zhou Langchen!!!"

In the corner, Faming, who had been slumped over with a blank stare, as if his soul had left his body, suddenly raised his head and stared intently at the fake Zhang Qing at the door.

"You are Zhou Langchen!!"

Hearing the sound, Zhou Langchen turned his head to look at the person in the corner. He blinked, and after a while, he suddenly realized:

"Oh? I've become like this, and nobody still recognizes me?"

He stroked his chin, scrutinized Faming for a few seconds, then seemed to remember something, a meaningful smile appearing on his face:

"Oh—! It's you! I remember you!"

"Every time I paint your skin and go down to town, Widow Liu, who runs the tofu shop, is always incredibly hospitable. She insists I stay for a free bowl of tofu pudding, with extra braised meat, all for free!"

"You son of a bitch! Zhou Langchen! You son of a bitch! I'll curse your ancestors for eighteen generations! You motherfucker..."

Upon hearing this, Fa Ming's old and new grudges erupted like a volcano, instantly shattering all his remaining rationality and composure!

What kind of high-ranking monk's demeanor? What kind of Buddhist purity? To hell with Amitabha!

His cultivation has been destroyed, his position has been stripped, and his spiritual palace has been emptied; he's no different from a cripple.

Those who have nothing to lose are not afraid of those who wear shoes, so what is there to worry about?

He opened his throat and, with all his might, unleashed a torrent of foul language, like a flood bursting its banks.

The richness of the vocabulary, the ingenuity of the angles, and the breadth of the greetings all encompassed Zhou Langchen's physical and spiritual aspects, as well as his ancestors and descendants.

It's practically a walking encyclopedia of Chinese swear words!

Just as Faming was passionately launching into his tirade, Zhenjing and the other old monks exchanged a glance, a resolute glint in their eyes!

Taking advantage of the moment when Zhou Langchen seemed to be distracted by Faming, they attacked again!

Zhenjing formed a hand seal, and a phantom image of an angry Vajra flashed behind him. He charged towards Zhou Langchen like a cannonball, his fists enveloped in golden Buddhist light powerful enough to split stone tablets!

The tall, thin old monk swayed and moved like a ghost to the side, his fingertips aimed straight at Zhou Langchen's vital acupoint under his ribs!

Another old monk, Ganba, tossed the purple-gold alms bowl high into the air. The bowl hung upside down, emitting thousands of golden rays that formed a huge golden vortex, unleashing a terrifying suction force to pull Zhou Langchen in!

Even Zhenying, who had been skinned and was covered in blood, slammed her hand on the ground and rushed towards Zhou Langchen like an arrow released from a bow!

He was covered in blood, but he had gathered the last bit of pure Buddhist power and was determined to fight to the death!

"Master! Uncle-Master! No!!!"

In the corner, Faming, who was cursing vehemently, was terrified when he saw this scene. His voice cracked and he let out a heart-wrenching scream!

He was probably the only person in the room who had a clear understanding of Zhou Langchen's strength.

His despicable disciple, wearing the skin of Zhou Langchen and borrowing some of his power, was able to treat him, the abbot of Jinshan Temple at the peak of the Divine Realm, like a grandson, grinding him into the ground and almost turning him into a donkey meat sandwich!

Right now, Zhou Langchen himself is standing right here!

This is the real deal! Not a trial card! Not a sample!

You bunch of old fogies, wouldn't you just be throwing your lives away if you went up there?!

Faming's reminder came too late.

Just as the attacks of the old monks were about to reach Zhou Langchen—

An indescribable, terrifying pressure, as if the entire world were collapsing, descended without warning!

There was no Buddha's light, no chanting, no demonic aura, and no fancy special effects.

It is simply, purely, and originates from the deepest level of life's pressure!

Like an abyss! Like the sea! Like a prison!

It was as if an invisible, cold hand had instantly gripped their hearts and choked their throats!

Zhenjing and the others suddenly froze!

Their fists were less than an inch away from Zhou Langchen's nose.

The rays of light from their fingertips had already touched the hem of Zhou Langchen's monk's robe.

But this last inch is like an insurmountable chasm!

They couldn't move.

It wasn't that it was bound by any magic or immobilized by any supernatural power.

Every cell and every nerve in their bodies is frantically sending alarms to their brains, emitting the most primal roars from the depths of their genes—

stop!

Otherwise, you will die!

They'll die a horrible death! They'll die so badly they won't even have the chance to be reincarnated!

Cold sweat instantly soaked through their tattered monk robes.