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

"Fine, I guess you've accepted your fate."

Ji Zuodao clapped his hands and wiped the blood and foam on his hands onto his clothes.

He glanced at Wang Zhenshan and the few remaining members of the Wang family, nodded, and spoke with a tone of "I am a magnanimous Taoist priest," as if he were bestowing a gift:

"Out of respect for your integrity, I'll leave you with a complete corpse."

"The coffins have all been prepared for you. I, the Daoist, have personally funded the preparation of other materials for you. Polypropylene, which is considered high-end. Don't be ungrateful; I wouldn't normally use this material for just anyone."

Upon hearing this, Wang Zhenshan revealed a bleak smile.

He was defeated by his own grandson today, and although he felt aggrieved, he had no choice but to accept it.

At least, this wretched child knew to give him some dignity and didn't let him be skinned and dismembered in public like Wang Qiang.

He took a deep breath and, in a tone that suggested he had taken life and death in stride, slowly said:

"Then I must thank Section Chief Ji for his great kindness. He spared me some dignity, which can be considered... not making me too embarrassed."

Although I don't know what "polypropylene" is, it sounds pretty high-end, so it shouldn't be too bad, right?

Wang Zhenshan even had this thought in his mind: although this kid is ruthless, at least he still has some humanity when it comes to treating people who are about to die.

At that moment, he even felt that his wretched grandson had finally become somewhat human.

Ji Zuodao smiled broadly:

"Hey, you guys should thank me, those things are pretty expensive, around fifty yuan each."

The council chamber fell silent instantly.

Wang Zhenshan's expression froze.

The few members of the Wang family who stayed behind were also stunned.

What is that?

Around fifty yuan?

Did they hear me right?

Wang Zhenshan thought he had misheard and subconsciously asked, "How much?"

"About fifty yuan."

Ji Zuodao repeated it, looking completely matter-of-fact.

"What? You think it's too cheap? Let me tell you, this price is an insider deal I got through connections. If you buy it yourself, it will cost at least sixty yuan."

Wang Zhenshan's lips began to twitch.

The corners of the mouths of those members of the Wang family also began to twitch.

Damn, a coffin that costs fifty yuan?

These days, even an urn costs seven or eight hundred yuan, right? A better one can cost thousands or even tens of thousands.

What can you buy with fifty yuan? You probably can't even afford a coffin lid.

Ji Zuodao reached into the human skin bag, rummaged around for a while, and then pulled something out.

Dark green.

Cylindrical.

It also has two handles on top.

Wang Zhenshan's eyeballs almost popped out of their sockets.

The Wang family members all stared wide-eyed, their mouths agape, wide enough to fit a fist.

That was a trash can.

It's those plastic trash cans that you can see everywhere, like downstairs in residential buildings, in the corners of parks, and in school corridors.

It also has the words "Recyclable" printed on it in white.

Wang Zhenshan felt his blood pressure spike to an all-time high in that instant.

"You...you mean this is the high-end stuff you were talking about?"

"yes."

Ji Zuodao nodded and patted the side of the bucket, making a "thump thump thump" sound, which sounded quite sturdy.

"Polypropylene, commonly known as PP plastic, is resistant to acids and alkalis, corrosion, and has a long service life. If you bury it in the ground, it won't rot for hundreds of years."

"Isn't this much better than those wooden coffins? Wooden coffins rot after a few years, riddled with insects and rodents—so unsightly. Mine are environmentally friendly, durable, and waterproof. You can each have one, and you can choose the color yourself. I have dark green, gray, and black. Which one do you want?"

Wang Zhenshan's face changed from white to red, from red to purple, and from purple to black, like a neon light – it was quite a spectacle.

He had lived for over seventy years and never imagined that one day someone would use a trash can as a coffin to put him in.

And that person was his own grandson.

Wang Zhenshan now completely understands that this bastard never intended to give them any face from the beginning.

He was just taking revenge on them, manipulating them.

"brute……"

Wang Zhenshan squeezed out two words through clenched teeth, his voice trembling.

Ji Zuodao tilted his head, looking completely innocent:

"Oh dear, sir, what you're saying is really hurtful. I kindly paid for the coffin out of my own pocket, and you're still cursing me? What's wrong with this trash can? Isn't it just a container? What's the difference between putting ashes in it and putting trash in it?"

"Besides, think about it, how many wicked things have you done in your life? Lying in a trash can after you die is a kind of return to your origins, right?"

"puff--"

Wang Zhenshan almost spat out a mouthful of blood.

He forced it back down, but the fishy, ​​sweet taste lingered in his throat for a long time.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, then opened them again, looking at Ji Zuodao with an extremely complex expression. His voice was hoarse, carrying a deep sense of powerlessness.

"My Wang family descendants... produced such a wretch as you... truly... karma has caught up with me..."

Upon hearing this, Ji Zuodao's smile widened even further.

He tilted his head, held up a finger, waved it in the air, and said in a corrective tone:

"Hey, old man, you're not being precise. Descendants? Sorry, but once you're dead, I'll put your names on the first page of the family tree. Strictly speaking, you're the unworthy descendants of mine."

Wang Zhenshan's face began to tremble.

That bastard is truly inhuman.

The feelings of the few remaining members of the Wang family next to Wang Zhenshan can no longer be described as "complex".

It was a state that transcended language, somewhere between "I want to laugh" and "I want to cry," and the expression that ultimately appeared was like someone who had been constipated for three days, feeling incredibly uncomfortable.

They're even starting to envy those who dig up ancestral graves.

At least those people are still alive and digging for their ancestors in the back mountain.

And what about them? They stood there, listening to Ji Zuodao seriously discussing with them what color trash can to put them in.

What the hell is this?

Seeing that they didn't speak, Ji Zuodao didn't care and took out several more trash cans from the human skin bag and lined them up.

Dark green, gray, black, and two dark blue ones were neatly stacked on the ground, like something out of a supermarket promotion.

"Come on, pick one." He greeted us warmly, like a salesperson. "I personally recommend dark green. It looks high-end and classy, ​​and it will be eye-catching when buried. It will also be easy for your descendants to find when they come to pay their respects during the Qingming Festival."

Wang Zhenshan stared at the row of trash cans on the ground, remained silent for a long time, and finally squeezed out a sentence through gritted teeth: "This old man... chooses the black one."

"Alright! One black one!" Ji Zuodao picked up the black trash can, put it aside, and then looked at the other members of the Wang family. "What about you? Hurry up and choose one. I'll write your names down so we don't get mixed up."

The members of the Wang family looked at each other, and finally, one by one, they obediently pointed to their preferred color.

What can they say now that things have come to this?

At least, those bastards actually let them choose the colors themselves.

This can be considered... the last act of mercy, right?

Ji Zuodao put the trash can away, clapped his hands, looked at Wang Zhenshan, and gave him a bright smile:

"Alright, the coffins are ready, you can rest in peace now. Don't worry, I keep my word. I said I'd leave you with a whole corpse, and I meant it. I won't skin you alive or tear out your tendons."

Wang Zhenshan closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

He did many bad things and harmed many people in his life, but he never regretted it.

But at this moment, for the first time, he began to wonder if throwing away this bastard child was the worst decision he had ever made in his life.

No, that's not right.

Why didn't you throw him farther when you threw him back then?

Why wasn't he thrown into the Pacific Ocean? How did he manage to come back alive?