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

The Night Demon King is having a great time.

While dodging the attacks of Sato's squad, he kept talking, like a comedian, with one sentence after another popping out.

"Oh dear, Mr. Sato, how many years have you been practicing your knife skills? It looks to me like a master slicing sashimi. You have the posture, but you can't seem to get to the real thing."

"Hey beautiful lady, you're casting spells pretty frequently, but your aim is a bit off. You're targeting me, not that building. What did that building ever do to you?"

"Tsk tsk tsk, buddy, your fall from the sky was pretty cool, but when you landed... well, it was a little off. Is the trash can comfortable? Should I call an ambulance for you?"

The Night Demon King moved with the elegance of a dancer, his white suit gleaming under the spotlights, without breaking a sweat.

On the other hand, Sato was already exhausted.

Sato was panting heavily, his grip on the katana was shaky, veins were bulging on his forehead, and beads of sweat streamed down his face, dripping onto the ground and spreading into a small puddle.

He gritted his teeth, staring intently at the Dark Night Demon King, wishing he could tear him to pieces with his eyes.

But he just couldn't touch a single hair on their head.

Seeing his expression, the Dark Lord smiled even more broadly and deliberately beckoned to him with his finger: "Come on, Mr. Sato, give it your all. I feel like you're about to cut me with your next strike. Really, I'm not kidding, it's just a tiny bit away."

Sato was so enraged by his words that he almost spat out a mouthful of blood. He roared and charged forward again, sword in hand.

Then the Night Demon King finally got tired of playing with it.

He sighed, shook his head, and said in a disappointed tone, "Sigh, I was hoping to play with you guys a little longer, but you're all so boring. Oh well, I'm not playing with you anymore, I should go home."

As he spoke, he waved his right hand, and a gust of wind appeared out of nowhere.

That wind was no ordinary wind; it was a sinister wind carrying black mist, howling and roaring like an invisible behemoth that opened its blood-red maw and swept towards Sato's squad.

Sato was hit head-on by the gust of cold wind, and his whole body flew backward like a kite with a broken string, crashing heavily into the wall of a building behind him, leaving a human-shaped dent in the cement wall.

He slid down and collapsed to the ground, a trickle of blood spilling from the corner of his mouth. His chest heaved with blood and qi, making it difficult to even breathe.

Mizuki wasn't much better off.

She was swept away by the cold wind and rolled several times on the ground. Her white hunting robe was covered in dust and dirt, her hair was disheveled, and her face was covered in dirt. She looked like she had just crawled out of a garbage dump, looking extremely disheveled.

Huizi wasn't seriously injured because she was standing at the very back and was the least affected.

But the gust of cold wind made her lose her balance, and she sat down on the ground with a thud. Her skirt was lifted up by the wind, revealing her safety shorts underneath, which made her blush with embarrassment.

The other team members fared even worse.

Some were blown more than ten meters away and got stuck on the trees by the roadside, unable to come down;

Some were lifted into the air and spun several times before falling down, hitting the roof of a car and denting it.

Others were blown directly into the roadside drainage ditch, soaking wet and covered in mud, looking like rats that had just crawled out of the sewer.

For a moment, the whole street was filled with wails and groans, rising and falling like a symphony, and quite rhythmic at that.

The Night Demon King stood on the edge of the rooftop, looking down at the mess below. He nodded in satisfaction and clapped his hands, as if he had just completed a work of art.

"Yes, very good, the performance went very well today. Thank you all for your cooperation, see you next time."

As he spoke, he bowed downwards, his posture as precise as an actor taking a curtain call.

His gaze casually swept around, and then he saw Ji Zuodao's family.

To be honest, this family was really conspicuous at the scene.

The soldiers around them were all on high alert, their expressions as solemn as if their fathers had died.

This family—some were eating sunflower seeds, some were drinking milk tea, and some were eating candied hawthorns—all with expressions of watching a grand spectacle, occasionally calling out to each other.

"Good! Well done!"

"That guy in the white shirt is pretty skilled!"

"Ouch, that one that fell into the trash can, it looks painful!"

The Night Demon King was stunned.

He blinked, then blinked again, to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

No, what are you doing here? Watching a show? This is the scene of a heretical sect's crime! Do you think you're here to watch a circus?

His gaze swept over Ji Zuodao's family, finally settling on Zhao Ya.

There was no way around it; Zhao Ya was just too conspicuous.

She was dressed in a sophisticated casual outfit, holding a cup of bubble tea in her hand, standing by the roadside with an elegant posture and outstanding temperament, looking like a lady attending fashion week.

Her face, in particular, was extremely well-maintained, with fair and smooth skin, delicate and three-dimensional features, and a mature woman's unique charm between her eyebrows and eyes.

The Dark Lord's eyes lit up.

Wow, what a beauty!

Besides his love for live-streaming murders, he has another major hobby—flirting with girls.

Moreover, he believed himself to be incredibly charming, and that there was no woman he couldn't seduce.

He straightened his collar, smoothed his hair, and put on what he thought was a handsome and charming smile. Then, in a flash, he appeared in front of Zhao Ya.

"This beautiful lady—"

He braced himself against the wall behind Zhao Ya with one hand, executing a classic "wall slam," leaning forward slightly to get close to her, and said in a deep, magnetic voice:

"You seemed really engrossed in watching. What, are you interested in my performance? Would you like me to put on another one just for you?"

As he spoke, he winked and gave a flirtatious look.

That posture, that tone, that expression—if it were a young girl, she'd probably be blushing, her heart pounding, and her legs going weak.

The melon seeds in Ji Zuodao's hand suddenly lost their appeal.

He had originally planned to recruit this guy and have him do live-streaming to make money off ordinary people.

But now?

"Incorporate my ass!"

How dare you flirt with my mom?

Your life is over!

Skinning, deboning, flesh shaving, soul extraction and lighting—a one-stop service guaranteed to be satisfying.

Ji Zuodao stood up abruptly, exuding a murderous aura.

Ji Zhengdao also stood up. Although he still looked like a well-behaved puppy, the wildness in his eyes could no longer be hidden. He looked like a mad dog that might pounce on someone and bite their throat at any moment.

Even Qiqi did the same. She stuffed the candied hawthorn into her mouth, freed her little hand to pull out a mourning stick from behind her waist, and started gesturing at the Dark Night Demon King's head.

That little expression, so cute and fierce, is actually quite adorable.

But the Night Demon King didn't take them seriously at all.

He was about to continue his flirtatious banter when, in the next second, Zhao Ya made her move.

That's right, there's no need for Ji Zuodao and the others to worry about it. No matter how others fight, it's not as enjoyable as fighting yourself.

Don't be fooled by Zhao Ya's constant crying and weak appearance in front of Ji Zuodao; it's all an act.

What's wrong? Why is it that Xu Ji is allowed to play the role of a green tea bitch, but Zhao Ya isn't allowed to play the innocent flower?

She appears to be a delicate white flower, but in reality, she's a ruthless and domineering one.

Do you really think her nickname "Sichuan Tyrannosaurus Rex" was given for nothing?

Just as the Dark Lord's face came close, a fist slammed down on him.

That fist looked white and slender, like the white part of a scallion, but it was surprisingly strong.

"Bang!"

With a muffled thud, the Night Demon King felt as if he had been hit by a speeding train. He was sent flying, spun several times in the air, and then crashed heavily to the ground, creating a crater.

The mask that partially covered his face was smashed into his flesh by that punch, shattering into several pieces, which were mixed with blood and broken teeth, covering his face.

The Night Demon King lay on the ground, his head buzzing, stars flashing before his eyes, feeling as if his brains were about to be splattered out.

He struggled to get up, but before he could stand up, a foot stepped on his chest and stomped him back to the ground.

Then I heard a string of curses.

"You son of a bitch! You dare to flirt with me, you little bastard? You're asking for trouble! When I was living my life in Sichuan, you were still in your mother's belly! You idiot, don't you even take a piss and look at yourself in the mirror before you dare to act like a hooligan in front of me?"