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

Logically speaking, once the mask is removed, what should be revealed is Wang Bing's original face.

Just like removing a mask to reveal a person's true face.

But how can this Wang Bing be so shameless?

The exposed flesh was simply muscle tissue and fat layer; there wasn't a single layer of intact skin covering it.

"My face... my fucking face is in your hands..."

Wang Bing said weakly, his voice filled with a weariness that made him feel utterly hopeless.

He was almost too exhausted to complain.

He just couldn't understand it. He was already in this state, his face had been ripped off, so why did this pervert still stubbornly believe that his face was the original?

In fact, Ji Zuodao had never thought of it that way.

His thoughts were the same as Li Shuwen's: his handsome face was one of a kind in the world, how could there be anyone else like him?

This must be a painted skin.

As for why it can't be torn off...

It might be a new process, or it could be a technological upgrade.

Anyway, it's definitely not the original.

"Damn! So you're a pervert!"

Ji Zuodao suddenly slapped his forehead, making a look of sudden realization.

"You're one of those obsessive stalker fans they talk about in the news, right? Damn it, you've torn your own face off and tried to pass it off as mine. Damn it, how disgusting! Pah!"

He felt that his guess made a lot of sense.

After all, he's famous now, and people call him "Ji Qingtian" whenever he goes out.

Look at this, people are afraid of becoming famous, just like pigs are afraid of getting fat. Look, he even has stalker fans now.

Tearing off one's own face and pasting on the handsome face of a Taoist priest—is this something a normal person would do?

That's absolutely insane!

Isn't it frequently reported in the news?

Some crazy fans will do all sorts of bizarre things to express their love for their idols.

Some people get plastic surgery to look like their idols; others steal their idols' personal belongings.

Some even stalk and harass their idols.

The guy in front of me is clearly one of those perverts.

He was just the most twisted of all, tearing off his own face and sticking it on his idol.

Ji Zuodao glanced at Wang Bing with disgust, then shook the fleshy bits stuck to the face on his hand, as if he were shaking off something dirty.

Then he turned around and walked away without looking back, without even pausing for a moment.

Wang Bing was left alone, lying on the cell floor, his face covered in blood, looking like a skinned toad, both pitiful and disgusting.

Wang Bing lay on the ground, his face burning with pain, as if someone had splashed a bottle of chili water on his face. The pain was so intense that he just wanted to die.

He felt his consciousness fading little by little. The world before him was gradually darkening.

Before he completely lost consciousness, he heard a murmur of conversation outside the door:

"Holy crap, did Daoist really strip that guy of his face?"

"Of course it's real! Didn't you hear that 'rip' sound? That sound was so crisp! It's definitely good leather!"

"Damn, Dao Ye is indeed a ruthless man. He skinned her alive without hesitation."

"Of course, otherwise why would he be our section chief?"

"On the other hand, that guy deserved it. Of all people to impersonate, why did he have to impersonate a Taoist priest? Wasn't he just asking for death?"

"Exactly, exactly. Do you think he can just casually impersonate Daoist Master's face?"

"Hey, what do you guys think the Taoist priest will make out of that leather? A wallet? Or a belt?"

"I think it might be a human skin lantern."

"You've been watching too many horror movies, haven't you? I think it's just a human skin mask that the Taoist priest is wearing for fun."

"That makes sense, that makes sense..."

Listening to the discussions, Wang Bing felt that his life had never been so dark.

A tear rolled down his blood-stained face.

The tears, salty in taste, seeped into the wound, causing another wave of excruciating pain.

Wang was in so much pain that he was convulsing, but he no longer had the strength to shout.

He could only lie on the ground, silently shedding tears, feeling the deep malice the world held towards him.

He wants to go home.

He never wants to come to Jinghai again.

Meanwhile, in the hotel suite where the Wang family was staying, the atmosphere was so heavy it was almost palpable.

The skyline of Beijing and Shanghai is visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows, but no one is in the mood to appreciate it at this moment.

Wang Bing's mother, Zhao Ya, sat on the sofa with red eyes, clutching a handkerchief in her hand, twisting it back and forth until it was almost twisted into a pretzel.

She wore a well-tailored dark green cheongsam, her hair was neatly styled, and she wore a string of pearls around her neck, each pearl round and full.

She exudes an air of elegance and nobility unique to those born into wealthy families.

But at this moment, the lady's face was filled with anxiety and heartache, and there was not a trace of her usual elegance and composure.

"Honey, do you think Bing'er will be alright?"

Zhao Ya looked up at her husband sitting on the opposite sofa, her voice trembling with tears welling up in her eyes, ready to spill over.

"He's never suffered like this before. What kind of place is the 749 Bureau? I've heard that going there is like being skinned alive! And what if he gets bullied? He's been pampered since he was a child, he's never experienced anything like this before!"

She became more and more anxious as she spoke, and her voice grew louder and louder until she was almost shouting.

Wang Gang sat opposite him, pinched his brow, and felt his temples throbbing.

He knows his son's personality best.

What is the "most obedient"?

What do you mean by "never causing trouble"?

That's because his wife's bias is too strong.

In a mother's eyes, her son is the most sensible, obedient, and well-behaved precious child in the world; even his farts smell sweet.

But what about the actual situation?

He knew his own son all too well.

He has never committed any major evils, but he has committed numerous minor ones.

He was arrogant and disdainful of others from a young age.

He sees everyone as inferior to him and always speaks to people with his nose in the air.

If anything doesn't go his way, he feels like the whole world has wronged him, and he won't stop until he makes a scene.

He had a vague feeling that something bad was going to happen when he came to Jinghai, and sure enough, he got into trouble after only one day.

But then again, what are these shortcomings compared to his amazing talent for cultivation?

The flaws are not concealed.

My own son, he's destined to be a celestial being!

He was born with a wisp of immortal energy, and his cultivation speed was more than ten times that of ordinary people!

The nineteen-year-old Dharma Realm.

Looking at the entire younger generation of the Han Dynasty, is there anyone who can compare to him? I've never even heard of them.

The most important thing is that he can take the Wang family to the next level.

Isn't all the resources the Wang family has accumulated over so many generations meant to protect and support this prodigy?

Wang Gang lowered his hand, took a deep breath, and spoke with a calm tone:

"Don't worry, it's just hitting a 749 investigator, what's the big deal? He didn't kill anyone, it's just a matter of paying some medical expenses and maybe a fine. Besides, your husband has some connections in Jinghai."

In his view, there is nothing in this world that money and power cannot solve.

If so, it means you don't have enough money and power.

At this time, Wang Gang was unaware that his own child was the one being beaten on the ground.

Hearing him say that, Zhao Ya felt a little more at ease, but she was still a little worried: "But... I heard that the director of the 749 Bureau in Jinghai is that Director Zhang Yucheng..."

There was a hint of apprehension in her voice.

Zhang Yucheng, or rather, the name of Third Master Zhang, is known to everyone in the cultivation circle of the Han Dynasty.

Before he joined 749, he was a master of murder, arson, ransacking homes, and wiping out entire families.

Today they wipe out this sect, tomorrow they'll take down that aristocratic family. They're ruthless and merciless, leaving not even a watchdog behind.

Countless prominent families fell victim to him, their homes destroyed, their ancestral graves desecrated.