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

The three men seemed to sense something, turned around, and were instantly terrified. Their legs went weak, and they knelt down with a few thuds, kowtowing and begging for mercy.

Ji Zuodao pulled the trigger.

Click.

Click click.

There was only a soft clicking sound of the firing pin striking the air.

"Tsk."

Ji Zuodao pursed his lips, as if he had just remembered.

"I forgot, I don't know how to use this thing. The station only provided the gun, not the instruction manual."

Upon hearing the empty sound, the three bald men were first stunned, then overwhelmed by a feeling of utter exhaustion from surviving a close call. They managed to force a smile that looked more like a grimace—

The three of them froze simultaneously in the next instant.

A spot of scarlet blood rapidly spread and proliferated between his eyebrows.

Three tiny holes quietly appeared.

Three large black veins, stained with red and white substances, silently retreated into Ji Zuodao's sleeves hanging at his side, like venomous snakes returning to their nest.

"This is more convenient. It's better than a gun."

"No...no...you...you just killed him like that?! In broad daylight! Right here?!"

"What, I killed someone—"

Ji Zuodao tilted his head to look at Li Shuwen, seemingly genuinely puzzled.

"Should we pick an auspicious day, bathe and burn incense, and report to Heaven?"

"I'm sorry, I'm not that particular."

"No... I mean, isn't this illegal? Shouldn't he be taken to the police station for questioning, imprisoned if necessary, or executed if appropriate?"

"There's no need."

"Take them back, lock them up, interrogate them, provide them with food, wait for the verdict, and then have someone carry it out... How much national resources will this whole process waste?"

Ji Zuodao counted on his fingers, seriously calculating the accounts, as if he were discussing a losing deal.

"National resources are so precious, they should be used in more useful ways, such as making more artillery shells, or improving the food for our soldiers on the front lines."

He raised his chin and pointed at the three rapidly cooling corpses on the ground.

"They were wasting air while they were alive, so it's good that they're dead. They'll fertilize this land, which is a way of making use of waste."

"Alright, enough talk, let's go in."

Ji Zuodao lifted his foot and walked towards the dark cave entrance.

"Hime... Investigator Hime!"

Li Shuwen's calves cramped, and his voice trembled.

"I... I don't need to go in, right? I'll keep watch outside for you! I have good eyesight!"

"no."

Ji Zuodao didn't even turn his head.

"It's dark inside, I need a human shield. Or, in case there's anything there, you can be fresh bait."

"Brother, have you always been this honest?"

"Hmm."

Ji Zuodao stopped at the cave entrance, turned half of his face to the side, and the corner of his mouth seemed to curve slightly.

Honesty is my strength.

"..."

Li Shuwen looked at the three corpses on the ground, their foreheads still slowly oozing blood, and then at Ji Zuodao's young profile, which appeared somewhat blurry in the dim light.

He knew he had no choice.

"Let's go... let's go..."

He resignedly closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. Dragging his leaden legs, he followed the figure that had already disappeared into the dark cave entrance.

Dog flicked its tail and strolled in leisurely.

The tomb passage was deeper than I had imagined.

Ji Zuodao shone his flashlight, the beam piercing through the thick darkness.

Li Shuwen was tied to his belt with a thick tendon and staggered behind him.

The main burial chamber was even more dilapidated than the bald man described.

Half of the dome collapsed, revealing the dim light of the outside sky and the upside-down tree roots.

Scattered on the ground were fragments of rotten coffins, remnants of pottery jars, and several unidentified herbs with thick leaves that were stubbornly growing under the dim light of day.

And at the deepest part of the tomb, against the only relatively intact wall...

A small coffin, noticeably smaller than expected and with mottled paint, was wedged at an angle in a crack in the rock wall caused by an earthquake.

The coffin lid was tilted to one side.

A small figure, dressed in ill-fitting, oversized clothing from the previous dynasty, was stuck in that gap.

"Heave-ho... Heave-ho... Heave-ho..."

The faint, slightly childlike sounds of exertion were exceptionally clear in the silent tomb.

The small figure seemed to be trying to pull itself out of the gap, but it was stuck too tightly. After trying for a long time, it could only make the oversized sleeves of the official robe sway back and forth, like a little turtle stuck in its shell.

Ji Zuodao stopped in his tracks.

Li Shuwen forgot his fear and craned his neck to look over.

The beam of the flashlight slowly moved to the side of the small figure.

The first thing that catches the eye is a pale, bloodless, childlike face. The cheeks, however, are slightly chubby and soft.

Then there was a pair of... extremely unique, glass-bead-like eyes.

Her pupils were a clear, pale purple, and they were slightly narrowed as she strained. A speck of dust clung to her long eyelashes, which trembled gently as she pumped away.

What's most eye-catching is the yellow talisman stuck to her forehead, faded and torn, yet still firmly attached.

The cinnabar runes on the talisman were blurry, but they still emitted a faint, restraining spiritual energy fluctuation.

In her small hands, she was still tightly clutching a few muddy herbs that she had just plucked from the corner of the wall.

"Why... can't Qiqi get out?"

She pouted, her voice soft and sweet, carrying a natural air of adorable naivety and stubbornness.

"Well……"

Li Shuwen opened his mouth and said subconsciously.

"Little...little kid? You...you're stuck?"

The small figure stiffened, and slowly, with extreme stiffness, turned its neck.

Her pale purple eyes met the beam of the flashlight. She seemed to be stung by the light, squinting even more, tilting her head to the side with a confused expression.

"Who...are you?"

She asked slowly, uttering each word with great care, as if speaking was a very strenuous task.

"Are you here...to steal Qiqi's herbs too?"

Ji Zuodao remained silent.

He turned the flashlight brightness down.

It's clearer now.

His small body was wrapped in an old, dark blue official robe with patches that was clearly several sizes too big, and it looked very empty.

Her official hat had long since disappeared, revealing a head of soft, slightly disheveled, light purple short hair, which was loosely tied into a small bun at the back of her head with a red string.

She wore a pair of small, upturned black cloth boots that were also too big for her feet.

As she kicked her leg, one boot fell to the ground with a "thud," revealing a tiny toe inside.

She seemed oblivious, continuing to glare at her other foot.

Ji Zuodao spoke, took a few steps forward, squatted down, and met her gaze.

"Your name is Qiqi?"

"Hmm... Qiqi."

The little zombie nodded, its movements a little slow but very serious.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Ji Zuodao." He paused, then added, "I'm here... um, to patrol."

"Patrol?"

Qiqi tilted her head again, her pale purple eyes filled with confusion. "This...is Qiqi's home. Do we...have to patrol here too?"

"Your house is leaking." Ji Zuodao pointed to the collapsed dome and the crack that was blocking her. "The roof has collapsed, and the walls are cracked. It's not safe."

Following his finger, Qiqi stared blankly at the hole above her head, then turned to look at the crack that was trapping her. A very subtle emotion, similar to distress, seemed to flash across her little face.

"Hmm...it seems so..." she admitted slowly, "A few days ago...there was a really loud noise...and then, Qiqi woke up."

She tried to gesture with her little hands to indicate "a loud sound," but because her arm was stuck, she had to give up.

"How long have you been here?" Ji Zuodao asked.

"how long……"

Qiqi's eyes became even more confused. She tried hard to think, her little brows furrowing slightly.

"I don't remember... It's been so long... All this time, here, with herbs, and... my diary."

"journal?"

"Qiqi's...diary. She was supposed to write in it every day...but I can't find it..."

Her voice gradually lowered, tinged with grievance.

Ji Zuodao's heart felt as if it had been gently bumped by something.

It's a little sour and a little soft.

He looked at the bewildered little zombie stuck in the crack in the wall.

A thought, clearer than ever before, filled my mind—

I have to raise this little zombie.

Anyone who dares to stop me, I'll refine them.