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

"Alright, it's time to deal with you."

Ji Zuodao strolled leisurely toward the Dark Night Demon King.

He had a smile on his face.

Like flowers blooming in spring, they bring comfort to the heart.

But after that conversation between the mother and daughter about "tearing apart wings and roasting chicken wings," that smile looked incredibly eerie.

The Night Demon King lay on the ground, covered in blood, his internal organs scattered everywhere.

He was already somewhat dazed from being hit in the face by that tornado.

But when he saw Ji Zuodao's smiling face getting closer and closer, the hairs on his body stood on end, as if he had been electrocuted, and he instantly became sober.

The Dark Night Demon King's pupils suddenly contracted, and his body began to scoot backward, his hands frantically digging at the ground until his fingernails broke off, leaving bloody streaks on the ground.

"Yamete!"

"Help me! Help me! That Onmyoji over there! I'm an evil cultivator! I'm a wanted criminal! Please save me! I'll turn myself in! I'll turn myself in!"

His voice was trembling, choked with sobs, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

Shouting as it desperately crawled forward, like a boneless worm, inching its way toward Yamamoto Ichiro.

Given his current physical condition, every movement feels like torture.

His internal organs were already moving around, and when he moved, those organs started to thrash about again, causing him to bleed from all seven orifices, making him look like a vengeful ghost crawling out of a horror movie.

But pain also has different levels.

Compared to being skinned alive and having your wings torn off, this little pain is nothing.

The Night Demon King could sense that this young man wasn't bluffing; he was serious.

That bastard really wants to skin him alive, tear off his wings, and roast him to eat.

Just thinking about it made the Dark Night Demon King feel his buttocks twitching.

He continued to wriggle towards Yamamoto Ichiro, shouting as he did so:

"Mr. Yamamoto! Save me! I'm a heretic from Little Life! According to Little Life's laws, I should be tried! I should be imprisoned! You can't just stand by and watch me die! Aren't you supposed to be the most humanitarian?"

Yamamoto Ichiro stood there, his expression a truly fascinating one.

He jogged forward, and in a few steps he was in front of Ji Zuodao, bowing and scraping, his face beaming with a smile more warm than if he were seeing his own father:

"Um, Mr. Ji, this person is a wanted criminal on our Little Life website. According to Little Life's laws..."

"Get lost."

Ji Zuodao didn't even glance at him, showing no politeness whatsoever.

He, Ji Zuodao, is extremely possessive of his food; he's the kind who actually bares his teeth. Even Pan Hong couldn't handle him.

Yamamoto Ichiro's smile froze for half a second.

Then, with even greater speed, he resumed his smile, bowing and scraping as he said, "Okay, sure."

After saying that, he quickly shut his mouth, took a few steps to the side, and gave up his seat.

It was as if he hadn't come to stop Ji Zuodao at all, but rather to guide him.

Yamamoto Ichiro knew exactly what was going on.

Just from the skill they just displayed, he knew that these big men were truly capable.

They weren't just there to gain prestige; they were genuinely skilled fighters.

It's not worth offending someone over a wanted criminal.

Besides, this Dark Night Demon King was already a wanted criminal in their lives. What difference did it make whoever he fell into? He was going to die anyway.

In the end, everyone dies anyway. What's the difference between dying at the hands of the Han Dynasty experts and dying at the hands of the local officials?

The only difference might be the way they died.

One was electrocuted, the other was skinned alive and had its wings torn off.

Yes, they are indeed quite different.

But since we're all going to die anyway, why bother arguing so much?

Rather than falling out with the experts from the Han Dynasty for his sake, it's better to do them a favor.

The Dark Night Demon King stared wide-eyed as Yamamoto Ichiro retreated to the side, his lips trembling.

"No, you're just giving up on me like this?"

"At least try again! I think I can still be saved! Damn it, stop playing dead! Look at me! Aren't we supposed to be the most humanitarian people in the world? Are you just going to stand by and watch me get skinned alive and have my wings torn off?"

Yamamoto Ichiro silently closed his eyes, turned around, his back to the Dark Lord, and uttered six words softly:

"There's no hope. Just wait to die."

The Night Demon King wanted to curse.

But before he could even speak, he felt a foot step on his back.

The foot wasn't heavy, but it was very steady, like an iron pillar, pressing down on his back and rendering him completely immobile.

The Dark Night Demon King stiffly turned his head and saw Ji Zuodao's smiling face looking down at him.

That smile was bright, revealing two small tiger teeth. She looked sunny and clean, just like those energetic college students on campus.

But when the Dark Lord looked at that smile, he felt as if his heart was being gripped by an icy hand, making it difficult to even beat.

He swallowed hard, a gurgling sound coming from his throat, then forced a smile that was more like a grimace, his voice trembling:

"Sir...is it possible to reconcile?"

Ji Zuodao tilted his head, looked at him, and his smile became even brighter.

"You little bastard, you were just harassing my mom, weren't you?"

He crouched down and approached the Dark Lord, his voice not loud, but every word carried a chilling aura that sent shivers down one's spine.

"You're very brave."

The Dark Lord's face began to tremble.

He opened his mouth, wanting to explain, wanting to apologize, wanting to say, "I didn't mean to," "I was blind," "I'll never do it again."

But before he could speak, he saw Ji Zuodao turn his head and call out towards the distance:

"Miss Keiko, please come and cast a healing spell on him."

Eh?

The Night Demon King was stunned.

Healing technique?

This bastard wants to treat me?

Did he have a change of heart? Did he think skinning me alive was too cruel and decide to let me go?

A glimmer of hope instantly ignited in the Dark Lord's heart.

"Hi!"

Huizi paused for a moment, then obediently jogged forward, squatted down beside the Dark Night Demon King, formed hand seals, and chanted incantations. A soft white light emanated from her palms and enveloped the Dark Night Demon King.

Sato watched from the sidelines, feeling incredibly distressed.

Good news: My girlfriend is very obedient.

Bad news: She listened to another man.

Sato felt like his heart had been fried in oil again; damn it, it was burnt.

The Night Demon King enjoyed the comfort brought by the healing spell, and his mood immediately relaxed.

They've already treated him, so they're definitely going to let him go.

Indeed, who would skin someone alive or tear off their wings?

How could a human be so beastly?