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

Looking at her appearance, Ji Zuodao's initial thought of "setting rules for this girl" vanished instantly.

He shook his head with amusement, then reached out and gently tapped Qiqi's forehead with his finger.

"You..."

His tone carried a doting affection that said, "I really can't do anything with you."

"When we get back, your brother will give you blood to drink. Don't eat these things. There are so many strange things soaking in the ground; haven't you just drunk some kind of eerie bathwater?"

Qiqi was stunned for a moment after hearing this.

Then, her eyes widened, as if she had suddenly realized something terrible.

"It seems so..."

She lowered her head, looked at the finger that had been stained with blood, and then at the boundless sea of ​​blood. Her face scrunched up little by little, like a squashed steamed bun.

Then, she stuck out her little tongue and spat it out forcefully, making several "pui pui pui" sounds. Her little face scrunched up, and her eyes looked at the sea of ​​blood with a mixture of disgust and regret.

"This blood smells so good..."

"We can't drink this... What a waste..."

Qiqi muttered, her voice tinged with resentment.

She sighed, a sigh that carried a sense of vicissitude, like "life is unpredictable, like the large intestine enclosing the small intestine."

Ji Zuodao almost burst out laughing when he saw her acting like a little adult.

Meanwhile, Zhu Cheng felt like he was about to die.

He was currently submerged in the depths of a sea of ​​blood, surrounded by thick, warm blood with a strange aroma.

The blood seemed to have a life of its own, constantly trying to seep into his ears, nose, and mouth, attempting to invade his body through every orifice.

But that's not the worst part.

The worst part is—this blood is awful!

Countless dark and evil thoughts, like a tidal wave, assaulted his mind.

Those thoughts, some insidious, some cruel, some insane, some twisted, were like a group of evil spirits crawling out of the depths of hell, baring their fangs and claws as they tried to take over his mind.

His obsession, like thorns, crept into every single one of his thoughts.

Those thorns, with barbs, pierced deep into the depths of his consciousness, constantly tearing and pulling, trying to drag him into an endless abyss.

He felt like his brain was a pot of porridge being boiled over a high flame, bubbling and threatening to overflow at any moment.

Zhu Cheng inwardly knew something was wrong.

He tried to channel his spiritual energy to resist the erosion of those evil thoughts.

But those evil thoughts were too strong, too dense, like an endless stream. As soon as one wave was suppressed, another surged up.

All the regrets, all the remorse, all the dissatisfaction, all the anger were magnified at this moment.

Like a pack of starving wild dogs, they were tearing and gnawing at his mind, devouring his reason.

not good!

Zhu Cheng suddenly opened his eyes, and a hint of purple appeared in them.

That purple wasn't the noble, mysterious kind; it was a filthy, murky purple, tinged with a hint of evil.

That was a sign that he was about to fall into demonic possession.

Zhu Cheng's pupils suddenly contracted.

He gritted his teeth, forced himself to calm down, and struggled, trying to float to the surface of the sea of ​​blood.

But just as he swam up less than ten feet—

A hand grabbed his right foot.

That hand, cold and hard, like an iron clamp reaching out from the depths of hell, gripped his ankle tightly.

Zhu Cheng's body suddenly froze, and he stood there motionless.

He slowly lowered his head and looked at his feet.

Then, he saw it.

What was pulling him back was actually his own inner demon.

At this moment, the inner demon Zhu Cheng had completely changed.

He was no longer the black-and-white figure who looked exactly like Zhu Cheng.

His body was now completely stained with blood, turning into a strange, dark red color, like a vengeful ghost that had just crawled out of a pool of blood.

His face, which was originally just like Zhu Cheng's—gentle, refined, and handsome—was now becoming increasingly ferocious and ugly.

His facial features were distorted, as if being kneaded and constantly changing shape by an invisible hand.

His mouth stretched wide, all the way to his ears, revealing a set of jagged, sharp teeth that gleamed eerily white in the blood.

The most outrageous thing is that he actually had several pairs of arms under his ribs.

Those arms, of varying lengths and thicknesses, some as thick as tree trunks, others as slender as a baby's arms, looked like a swarm of parasites frantically growing on his body.

Moreover, there was a bulge on each side of his head.

The bulge grew larger and larger, as if something was being nurtured inside, ready to burst out at any moment.

Even the outline of facial features was already faintly visible on that bulge—

The eyes, nose, and mouth are gradually taking shape.

Zhu Cheng was completely stunned when he saw the appearance of his inner demon.

What the hell?

Has my inner demon mutated?

Nuclear wastewater is being discharged here?

A series of question marks popped into his mind, but they were quickly overwhelmed by the evil thoughts that were assaulting his mind.

He gritted his teeth, raised his right hand, and prepared to cast a spell to strike the inner demon that was holding him back.

Then, he was stunned.

The hand was raised.

But this is not his right hand.

It wasn't his left hand either.

Zhu Cheng lowered his head, looking at the hand that was sticking out from his crotch and making a mudra, his mind a little confused.

Wait, what is this?

My hand?

Why is my hand reaching out from here?

He tried to pull the hand back, but it seemed to have its own mind and wouldn't obey him at all. It was still making hand seals on its own, and he didn't know what kind of spell it was going to cast.

Zhu Cheng felt that his worldview was collapsing little by little.

But Zhu Cheng, the inner demon, seized this opportunity to grab his feet and climb up little by little.

As he climbed, he let out a strange "hehehe" laugh.

The laughter spread through the blood, carrying a strange, chilling resonance, as if a hundred people were laughing at the same time, or as if only one person was laughing, but the echo lingered for a long time.

"Stay...stay..."

The voice of the inner demon Zhu Cheng rang in Zhu Cheng's ears.

The voice was no longer the gentle and polite tone it had before; instead, it carried a sinister and seductive magic.

It felt like a venomous snake was crawling into his brain through his ear canal.

"I know... you actually have no intention of reviving the Ming Dynasty at all..."

The voice of the inner demon Zhu Cheng was like a hook, repeatedly tugging at the deepest thoughts in Zhu Cheng's heart.

"You clearly had other ways to fight back... so why did you choose the one that left you with absolutely no chance?"