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

Ji Zuodao and Ji Zhengdao were laughing happily, while Zhu Cheng was getting anxious and almost getting angry.

He's currently being held back by those inner demons, completely under their control.

He had such high hopes—

By relying on the rules of the secret realm, the Ming army is constantly reset, maintaining peak combat power at all times.

You kill a batch, I refresh a batch; you kill a batch, I refresh another batch.

Anyway, this secret realm is mine, my home turf. You want to play a war of attrition with me? I'll drag it out until you're dead.

But as it turns out, he was too naive.

Those inner demons, that works too.

Then they saw the inner demon Zhu Cheng standing behind the black-clad Ming army, throwing things out in handfuls.

The thing was golden, looking like a gold coin, and it drew golden arcs in the air before falling onto the bodies of the dead demon soldiers.

Then--

Those demons who had been lying on the ground suddenly stood up as if a reset button had been pressed.

His wounds healed instantly, the broken halberd grew back, and even his damaged armor was restored to its original condition, looking as new as if it had just been taken out of the blacksmith's shop.

"Awooooo—"

The resurrected demons of the Ming army let out strange cries, as if they had been injected with chicken blood, and charged towards the golden-armored Ming army again.

Similar mechanisms.

I can't break their moves.

Zhu Cheng stood at a distance, watching the Ming army of inner demons rise again and again, feeling his temples throbbing.

He gritted his teeth and initiated another reset.

The Ming army, clad in golden armor, has been resurrected.

Then the inner demon Mingjun was also resurrected.

The Ming army, clad in golden armor, has been resurrected.

The inner demon Mingjun was resurrected.

After repeating this seven or eight times, Zhu Cheng's forehead was covered with a fine layer of sweat, and his breathing became somewhat rapid.

Each time he actively resets, it consumes his spiritual power.

Although it's not much, it happens so often.

But what about Zhu Cheng, the inner demon on the other side?

The man stood there, smiling, tossing out handfuls of gold coins. His movements and demeanor were as relaxed and carefree as if he were feeding pigeons, without any effort.

Looking at the relaxed appearance of the inner demon Zhu Cheng, Zhu Cheng felt his blood pressure spike again.

Heh heh, waging a war of attrition?

This is what Ji Zhengdao fears the least.

Now, any strange occurrences born in Jinghai that are refreshed to his side will have their refresh points forcibly fixed within his strange domain.

and then?

Then they were all gathered together and killed by Ji Zhengdao.

They kill them in batches, slaughter them one crop after another, like cutting leeks. After one crop is cut, another grows back.

Those weird things, you die and refresh, refresh and die again, die and refresh again, refresh and die again...

This cycle repeats endlessly.

Each time you die, you will drop a resurrection coin.

Ji Zhengdao collected these resurrection coins and piled them up in his strange domain. Over time, they accumulated more and more.

How many?

So many that they could fill the Epang Palace.

That's right, it's that magnificent Epang Palace he built, filled with resurrection coins, piled from floor to ceiling, so full that there's not even room to step.

That's why the eerie things in Jinghai are almost extinct.

In the past, new strange occurrences would happen every few days in Jinghai, making it as lively as a vegetable market.

What now?

Forget about new strange occurrences, Ji Zhengdao has almost caught all the old ones.

So, are we going to wage a war of attrition against Ji Zhengdao?

Isn't that just courting death?

Zhu Cheng is now truly anxious.

He could sense that the secret realm was emitting a faint groan, one that was difficult for ordinary people to detect.

The sound was like a rubber band stretched to its limit, making a "squeaking" sound, as if it might break at any moment.

The secret realm can't hold on any longer.

People are still desperately trying to squeeze into Tiananmen Square over there.

No, it's not just Tiananmen Square.

Zhu Cheng squinted, and through the ever-widening crack, he saw more—

He saw the Epang Palace.

The magnificent Epang Palace, a hundred times more imposing than the replica ancient scenic spot in Xi'an, is slowly encroaching on this side of Tiananmen Square.

He saw the Great Wall.

The Great Wall, winding and twisting like a giant dragon, clinging to the mountain ridge, is also crowding in this direction.

He also saw many buildings whose names he did not know.

Some resemble towers, some buildings, some pavilions, and some palaces and temples, all densely packed together.

Like a pot of burnt eight-treasure porridge, it poured into his secret realm in a chaotic mess.

Oh shit.

Zhu Cheng cursed inwardly.

What on earth did he run into?

What a complete hodgepodge!

He originally thought that his Great Ming Secret Realm was the most awesome secret realm in the world.

It can move, can travel through the void, can accommodate 100,000 Ming soldiers, and can unleash the combat power of a supernatural realm expert.

That's awesome!

But now it seems that his meager resources are nothing compared to that huge, mixed bag across the street.

That's a Manchu Han Imperial Feast for others, but this is just a plate of peanuts for him.

It wasn't fully fried.

Zhu Cheng stood there, watching the buildings crash into his secret realm, watching his secret realm be smashed to pieces.

This is the wealth accumulated by the Zhu family over generations!

Generation after generation, from the fall of the Ming Dynasty to now, how many years have passed?

Hundreds of years!

Centuries of hard work, centuries of accumulated resources, centuries of cherished hope—

They've all been invested in this secret realm.

Since this secret realm was created more than ten years ago, he has treasured it like a precious gem, carefully maintaining it for fear of damaging it.

The results of it?

These bastards, stand up and kick!

So you don't care at all just because it's not yours?

In truth, Ji Zhengdao didn't feel sorry for her at all.

What's there to feel sorry about?

Anyway, we're going to swallow it all.

Break it up a bit, and it'll be easier to swallow.

Just like eating, is it easier to digest a whole chicken that you stuff into your mouth directly, or one that you cut into small pieces?

Of course, you should cut it into small pieces.

Therefore, Ji Zhengdao was more than happy for Zhu Cheng's secret realm to be destroyed.

Ideally, it should be ground into small pieces, powder, or crumbs, so that he doesn't even need to chew it; he can just swallow it directly into his stomach and that's it.

It saves us the trouble of digesting it.

As for the buildings that were destroyed?

It's okay.

Once he has thoroughly analyzed this secret realm, figured out its operating rules, and restored it, it will be a piece of cake.

It's like building a house with blocks. You can dismantle the house, but as long as you know how to rebuild it, you can rebuild it anytime.

It can even be arranged to look better, be more impressive, and be even more awesome.

Therefore, Ji Zhengdao felt no pity at all.

He was even somewhat looking forward to it.

I hope Zhu Cheng's secret realm gets destroyed soon so he can have his meal.

He crouched on the eaves, watching the chaotic battle below, watching the Ming soldiers with their inner demons charge again and again, watching the golden-armored Ming soldiers fall one after another, watching Zhu Cheng's face grow darker and darker, and the smile on his lips grow brighter and brighter.

That smile, how should I put it, was like that of a tiger watching its prey slowly die, carrying a calm and leisurely air of certainty.

He turned to look at Ji Zuodao, his tone brimming with undisguised smugness, "Brother, how long do you think he can hold out?"

Ji Zuodao thought for a moment, then held up one finger: "One hour?"

"Too long." Ji Zhengdao shook his head and held up three fingers. "Thirty minutes at most."

"What are we betting on?"

"If this meal goes well, I can go out. I want to eat out; I'm getting tired of eating pork every day."

"OK."

Looking at Zhu Cheng, who was sweating profusely with anxiety.

"Hehe~"

The two exchanged another glance, their eyes filled with schadenfreude.