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

Yamamoto Ichiro's smile froze completely.

The faces of the combat teams behind him instantly turned grim.

One of the young men, who looked to be in his early twenties, was dressed in a black combat suit with a katana at his waist. He couldn't help but snort coldly and muttered something in Japanese:

"Baka! Is this bastard here to help or for sightseeing?"

Although his voice wasn't loud, everyone present was a Qi cultivator with very sharp ears, so how could they not hear him?

Ji Zuodao naturally heard it as well.

But he wasn't angry; instead, he smiled even more brightly.

He turned to the young man and said in fluent Japanese, "Brother, you're right. I'm just here for tourism. What can I do? I can take care of whatever you guys can't handle while I'm sightseeing."

The young man was clearly surprised that Ji Zuodao could speak Japanese, and so fluently at that. He was stunned for a moment, and then his expression turned even more unpleasant.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but was silenced by a glare from Yamamoto Ichiro.

"Mr. Ji has misunderstood; he didn't mean anything by it."

Yamamoto Ichiro quickly tried to smooth things over, his smile looking more like a grimace. "We've already arranged your accommodation and dinner, so please don't worry. Please get in the car with us, and we'll take you to your hotel."

"Then I'll have to trouble you, Mr. Yamamoto."

Ji Zuodao nodded with a smile, then turned to his men and said, "Let's go, let's get in the car. Mom, be careful, don't bump into anything. Qiqi, come here, let your brother hug you."

As he spoke, he took Qiqi from Zhao Ya's arms, holding the child in one arm and leading the dog with the other, and swaggered towards the parking lot.

His demeanor made him look like a leader on an inspection tour.

As Yamamoto Ichiro watched his departing figure, the smile on his face finally vanished completely.

He turned to the young man who had just spoken rudely, lowered his voice, and said sternly, "Sato, shut up! This man was sent by the 749th Bureau of the Great Han Dynasty. No matter how unreliable he seems, he's not someone we can afford to offend! Do you understand?"

Sato gritted his teeth, and although he was a hundred times unwilling, he still lowered his head: "Yes, I understand."

The fire in Sato's heart had been burning ever since the day the nation decided to seek help from the Han Dynasty.

No, why should I?

He is one of the most capable fighters among the younger generation of the Tokyo Onmyōryō (Bureau of Yin and Yang), and his katana skills are unmatched among his peers. He has carried out dozens of missions, both large and small.

What kind of demons and monsters haven't I seen? What kind of dangerous scenes haven't I experienced?

And what happened? The higher-ups, without even a word to him, turned around and begged the big man.

Please, great man! If word gets out, where will Sato put his face? Where will the entire Onmyōryō put its face?

So what if a few hundred ordinary people died? Is it really worth it?

Every year, hundreds of people die. Is it really worth making such a big deal out of it and going to outsiders for help?

Sato grew angrier the more he thought about it, and the angrier he became, the more frustrated he felt.

But the order had already been given, and no matter how unwilling he was, he had no choice but to accept it.

He had originally thought that the person sent by the Han Dynasty would at least be an experienced veteran.

This way he can feel a little better; losing to an experienced senior is not shameful.

The results of it?

The big man sent a young man who looked to be no more than twenty years old.

Twenty years old!

When Sato was that age, he was still working as an assistant in the Onmyōryō (Bureau of Yin and Yang), and he wasn't even qualified to carry out missions independently.

This little brat, who hasn't even grown his first hair yet, dares to call himself an "expert"?

What made Sato even more devastated was that this bastard had brought his whole family with him.

He brought a child, a dog, and even his mother.

What's going on? Is this a publicly funded trip?

Fine, he tolerated all of this. After all, they were people sent by the Han Dynasty, and he had to save face.

But what happened next completely broke through Sato's bottom line of patience.

On the way from the airport to the hotel, Ji Zuodao's mouth never stopped.

First, they complained that their cars weren't high-end enough.

"Wow, a Toyota Alphard? In our Han country, that car is used for ride-hailing services like Didi. You're using this to entertain foreign guests?"

Sato's hands, gripping the steering wheel, were bulging with veins.

Then came the complaints about how narrow the streets of Tokyo are.

"How did you build this road? It's like an earthworm, all twisted and turned. Doesn't it feel cramped to drive on? In Jinghai, roads have at least eight lanes, and sixteen lanes in both directions are the standard. This road wouldn't even qualify as a bike lane where we live."

Next, they complained that the buildings in Tokyo were too short.

"How did you build all this? How tall is the tallest one? Tokyo Tower? You call that a tower? Even the landmarks in any county in our Great Han are taller than that. Your city skyline looks like it hasn't even finished developing."

Sato gritted his teeth, silently chanting: Calm down, calm down. He's an expert sent by the Great Han; I can't offend him, I can't offend him...

Once at the hotel, Ji Zuodao started being picky again.

"This is what you call a five-star hotel? The lobby isn't even as big as our living room. How big is the room? Only 40 square meters? You call this a suite? Do you have some kind of misunderstanding about suites? In our Han Dynasty, a 40-square-meter room is called a standard room, we'd be embarrassed to call it a suite."

Sato took a deep breath, then another, feeling his blood pressure spike to a dangerous level.

After finally settling Ji Zuodao and his party in, Yamamoto Ichiro hosted a banquet for them at a high-class restaurant.

Sato didn't want to go; he was afraid he wouldn't be able to control his emotions and would overturn the table on the spot.

But Yamamoto Ichiro specifically asked him to go, saying that he was one of the main people in charge of this operation and had to be present.

He had no choice but to go.

Then, he watched helplessly as Ji Zuodao began a new round of criticism.

"This sashimi is sliced ​​way too thick! Your knife skills are terrible. Our chefs at Dahan slice raw fish so thinly it's like a cicada's wing, you can see the words on a newspaper through it. This looks like it's been gnawed on, a complete failure."

"The vinegared rice in this sushi doesn't taste right either. There's too much vinegar, which overpowers the flavor. Good sushi should be a perfect blend of rice and sashimi. The rice in this sushi completely masks the freshness of the sashimi. It's a failure."

"This miso soup is way too salty! Do you all have such strong palates? We Han people appreciate soup that is light, fresh, and has a lingering aftertaste. This soup of yours is unbearably salty; it's a complete failure."

Sato's hand holding the chopsticks was trembling.

He really wanted to shove his chopsticks into Ji Zuodao's smug mouth.

But he can't.

He could only endure it.

What drove Sato to the brink of despair was that Himezamichi kept eating while being picky, her mouth never stopping.

He said the sashimi was cut too thick? He ate three plates by himself.

He said the sushi rice tasted wrong? He ate twelve pieces by himself.

He said the miso soup was too salty? He drank three bowls and even scooped up all the seaweed from the bottom of the bowl.

So you're eating while you're cursing, and the harsher you curse, the happier you eat, right?

Sato felt like he was about to explode.

What really blew him away was that he noticed the way the female teammates on his team were looking at him strangely.

At first, they were also indignant and very unhappy with Ji Zuodao's arrogant attitude.

After all, we're all just ordinary people trying to make a living. It's bound to make us uncomfortable to see an outsider belittling our country's products.

But after a few cups of sake, things started to change.

P.S.: The comic book series will be released on August 15th! ⌯ᵔᗜᵔ⌯