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

Wang Gang also felt some chest tightness.

He knew his son might suffer, and he had prepared for the worst.

After all, Jinghai 749's reputation is truly...

Damn, I can't think of an adjective to describe it; it's hard to put into words.

He had imagined his son being beaten black and blue, and that he might lose an arm or a leg.

He even considered that, given the style of those people in the Jinghai 749 Bureau, they might torture his son, whip him a few times, or something.

But he never expected that his son would lose his face.

The face was bald and covered in blood, with jagged cuts at the edges, clearly not made with a sharp knife.

Instead, it was forcibly torn off, like tearing off a plaster, skin and flesh all at once.

Wang Gang felt a churning in his stomach and almost vomited on the spot.

What grudge could they possibly hold? Why would they skin someone alive?

Wang Gang has lived for over forty years and has been navigating the Shanghai business world for so long. What storms hasn't he weathered?

He believed he had seen enough of the deceit and treachery in the business world and the open and covert struggles in the cultivation world.

But he had never seen anyone arrest someone and then immediately strip them of their face without saying a word.

Is this still a legitimate state-run law enforcement agency?

Those who know this are aware that this is the Jinghai 749 prison; those who don't might mistake it for the Imperial Guard's prison.

He was still in a daze when Zhao Ya, who was in his arms, slowly woke up.

She stared blankly at the ceiling of the 749 cell. The ceiling was white, with a fluorescent light on it that hummed and emitted a blinding white light.

She stared for a long time, her eyes vacant, as if her soul had not yet returned.

Then, as if she had thought of something, she struggled to get up, pushed Wang Gang aside, and staggered toward the huddled figure in the corner.

"Son! Are you alright? Mom will take you out of Bureau 749 right away, let's go home, let's go home!"

Zhao Ya cried and rushed forward. Her voice was so mournful that it echoed in the empty cell, making one's heart ache.

She reached for the pills with trembling hands, her movements urgent and her fingers shaking.

After searching for a long time, I couldn't find anything.

She then remembered that all the good things she had on her—the Mind-Stabilizing Pill, the Bone-Healing Pill, the Vitality-Boosting Pill, and the Vitality-Nourishing Pill—had been given to that rascal in the corridor.

That scoundrel who wore her son's face and swindled her out of all her good things.

Zhao Ya's hand froze in mid-air, her expression shifting from anxiety to bewilderment, then from bewilderment to anger, finally settling on an indescribable sense of grievance.

Her lips trembled a few times, as if she wanted to say something, but the words stuck in her throat.

Forget it, now is not the time to worry about that.

Saving my son is the priority.

She crouched down, wanting to check Wang Bing's injuries, but when she saw Wang Bing's face clearly, her hands began to tremble again.

That face...it looked terrible.

It was worse than she had imagined.

The skin was gone, revealing the bright red flesh underneath.

The incision edges were jagged, and in some places the skin was still attached by a little bit, drooping down to reveal the deeper tissue underneath.

Zhao Ya's tears welled up instantly.

"My son...your face...your face..."

She reached out to touch her son's face, but stopped halfway through.

She was afraid of hurting him, afraid of touching the exposed flesh and blood, afraid that her son would be in even more pain.

Her hand hung in mid-air, trembling, unsure of where to put it.

Wang Bing, whose consciousness was somewhat hazy, cleared his eyes a little upon hearing Zhao Ya's cries.

His eyes stood out starkly against the bloody mess, like two glass beads embedded in raw flesh.

He saw Zhao Ya, he saw Wang Gang, and he saw that familiar face filled with anxiety and heartache.

Then, he completely broke down.

"Mother! What brings you here!"

Wang Bing cried out in a hoarse voice, the sound seeming to be squeezed out from the depths of his throat, carrying a heart-wrenching despair.

"Run! Run! This isn't Bureau 749! This is northern Myanmar! This is an industrial park!"

He cried and struggled to stand up, trying to push Zhao Ya away and get her out of this terrible place as soon as possible.

"Waaaaah! They were skinning me alive! They were skinning me without any tools! They were just dragging and pulling me out! It hurt so much!"

"That devil who looks just like me! He ripped my face off without saying a word! Just like tearing a piece of paper! I didn't even have time to react! My face was gone! Oh my god! My face is gone!"

He became more and more agitated and heartbroken as he spoke, tears mixed with blood streaming down his face.

Then, the veins on his face burst.

You should know that although Ji Zuodao forcibly tore Wang Bing's face off, as a heretical cultivator, his skills are undeniable.

When he was a child, he learned the art of skin refining from his third master at Lion Camel Ridge. The first step was to practice skinning.

Start by peeling the rabbit, then the mandrill, and finally yourself.

It took hundreds of skins to finally hone my skills.

That technique emphasizes "steadiness, accuracy, and ruthlessness".

The knife must be steady, the peeling precise, and the force strong enough to ensure the skin remains intact and usable after peeling.

Although Wang Bing's face was forced off this time, Ji Zuodao's methods were still there.

When he pulled, he used a skillful approach, applying force evenly along the texture of the skin and the direction of the muscles.

Therefore, Wang Bing's face only had minor damage in a few places; most of the area was intact, and even the blood vessels were not broken.

If someone else were to pull it, they would probably tear off a large chunk of flesh and skin, making it a truly bloody mess.

But now Wang Bing was crying and wailing, his emotions were running high, and his facial muscles were contracting violently. The blood vessels that were originally intact could not withstand the pressure.

"puff--"

A blood vessel burst.

"Pfft pfft—"

Two more.

Just like a burst water pipe, blood gushed out, spraying high and splattering on the cell walls, leaving shocking bloodstains.

"Puff puff puff puff—"

More blood vessels burst.

Wang Bing's face instantly turned into a fountain, with blood gushing out from all directions. The scene was like a high-pressure water tap that had been turned on, and it was impossible to stop it.

Zhao Ya and Wang Gang were caught off guard and had blood splattered all over their faces.

The blood, warm and with a rusty smell, smeared on their faces, dripped down their chins, and onto their clothes, leaving dark red stains.

Zhao Ya was completely stunned.

She remained crouched on the ground, her face covered in blood, which streamed down her cheeks, dripping onto her cheongsam and her exquisite high heels.

She blinked, staring blankly at her son who was bleeding profusely.

Then, she let out a scream.

"Aaaaaahhhhhh! Help! Someone help me!"

The scream, sharp and piercing, echoed through the cell, penetrating the walls and reaching the corridor.

Wang Gang panicked too.

He had never seen anything like this before.

His own son's face was gone, and blood was still gushing out, the blood was gushing high, like a fountain, and he couldn't stop it.

He also started shouting, "Help! Someone, help! Someone's going to die!"

If Zhao Ya and Wang Gang, who were only splattered with a little blood, are in such a state, then Wang Bing is even worse off.

He had never seen such a amount of bleeding in his entire life.

Blood was gushing from his face like a burst dam, and he felt as if the blood in his body was rapidly draining away.

Terrified, his body began to convulse, his limbs twitching uncontrollably, and he made a "hoarse" sound, like a dying wild beast.

"Mother...am I going to die...? I don't want to die...I haven't lived enough yet..."

He was convulsing and crying out; his voice was broken and intermittent, and it was heartbreaking to hear.

Zhao Ya and Wang Gang panicked even more when they saw their son start to convulse.

Zhao Ya grabbed Wang Bing and rushed outside.

"Get out of the way! All of you, get out of the way! If anything happens to my son, I'll never forgive you!"

As she charged, she shouted, her voice sharp and piercing, like a mother wolf protecting her cubs.

Wang Gang followed behind her, his face also filled with anxiety, shouting as he ran, "Doctor! Is there a doctor?! Call an ambulance!"

The family of three rushed out of the cell, through the corridor, through the lobby on the first floor, and out of the gate of Bureau 749.

Around the cell, there were still a few 749 investigators who hadn't left yet after watching the commotion. They looked at the family's departing figures with question marks on their faces.

"Wasn't that kid in the Dharma Aspect Realm? How come he's only slightly injured and half-dead?"

A young investigator's eyes widened. "His face's gone! And you call that a minor injury?"

"So what if you don't have a face?"

The veteran investigator rolled his eyes and said in a tone that said, "You're still too naive."

"It's just a face, right? No bones or internal organs were damaged. The amount of bleeding is less than what my husband gets every month."

The young investigator opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but found himself speechless.

He thought about it and it seemed to make sense.

A Qi cultivator at the Dharma Aspect Realm possesses a physical strength far exceeding that of ordinary people. Not to mention having their face peeled off, even if an arm is cut off, they can recover completely.

That amount of bleeding is nothing to a Qi cultivator at the Dharma Aspect Realm.

Just like those two foreigners who were skinned and dismembered by Ji Zuodao last year, Ji Zuodao peeled their skin off wave after wave, like harvesting leeks, but the foreigners were still fine. They could go back and eat a few radishes and walk again.

Wang Bing's condition was purely due to his own fear.

"Tsk tsk, young people these days have such poor mental fortitude."

Another investigator shook his head, looking wistful:

"Back in the day, when I went out to conquer territory with Master Zhang, I got slashed seventeen or eighteen times, my intestines were spilling out, but I stubbornly stuffed them back in myself and kept slashing. That's what you call a real man!"

The investigators exchanged glances, all seeing a shared conclusion in each other's eyes—

This generation of Dharma Aspect Realm cultivators is no good.