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

"elder sister……"

In the dead silence, a faint, trembling female voice rang out.

She is a round-faced girl.

She looked at another pretty woman beside her, forced a smile that was more like a grimace, and spoke in a tearful voice with her last hope:

"Sister Ling...we...we entered the sect together...you said you would take care of me...can we...can we..."

The woman called "Sister Ling" trembled, avoided her gaze, and gripped the hem of her clothes tightly with her fingers until her knuckles turned white.

She did not answer.

But that silence, and the flickering struggle and ruthlessness in his eyes, were already the best answer.

The light in the round-faced girl's eyes gradually faded.

Just then—

"ah--!!!"

A heart-wrenching scream suddenly erupted from behind the crowd!

Suddenly, a woman standing on the edge with her head down suddenly slid a dagger with a cold, dark blue light from her sleeve and plunged it into the back of another unsuspecting woman next to her!

"You...you..."

The stabbed woman stared wide-eyed at her usual "sister" in disbelief. Her throat gurgled, but she could no longer utter a complete sentence before collapsing limply to the ground, her blood instantly soaking the carpet.

"I'm so sorry... Xiaoru... I... I don't want to die... I really don't want to die!!!"

The woman pulled out the dagger, her face splattered with warm blood, her eyes crazed and confused. Clutching the dripping weapon, she cried and screamed:

"Only one can live! Only one can live!! You forced me to this! You forced me to this!!!"

This bloody scene was like a spark thrown into boiling oil.

"Bang!"

"Ugh—!"

"You bitch! How dare you attack me from behind?!"

"Go to hell!"

After a brief silence, the instinct for survival, accumulated fear, pre-existing grudges, and malice amplified to an extreme under the desperate situation of "only one survivor"...

It erupted with a deafening roar!

These sisters, who might usually cultivate together, laugh together, or even share a bed, now, for that slim to almost nonexistent chance of survival, have brazenly revealed their claws to those around them!

Lacking spiritual power, they resorted to the most primitive methods.

Hairpins, broken porcelain, broken table and chair legs, even teeth, fingernails...

Cries, screams, curses, the dull thud of bones breaking, the splattering sound of a sharp blade piercing flesh...

The magnificent lobby of "Drunken Dream Pavilion" was instantly transformed into the bloodiest and most barbaric killing field.

The scarlet carpet was soaked with more warm liquid, emitting a strong, nauseating smell of rust.

Severed limbs and tattered clothes were scattered everywhere, and her once delicate and beautiful face was twisted and deformed by pain and madness.

The ugliest and darkest side of human nature was laid bare at this moment, exposed to the icy air and the reflection of the dark blue ice wall.

Yunniang did not move.

She simply stood there, watching the scene of fellow disciples killing each other, a living hell of blood and flesh flying everywhere, her face expressionless, her eyes frighteningly empty.

Occasionally, a disciple, blinded by rage, would charge at her with a roar, but she would mechanically deflect him or smash him to the ground.

Her movements were stiff yet precise, with a hint of numbness.

On the high platform, Ji Zuodao had already sat down again at some point.

He covered Qiqi's eyes and gently pressed her head against his chest.

"Be good, don't look."

His voice remained calm, even carrying a hint of gentle reassurance.

Qiqi nestled obediently in his arms, her little hands clutching the hem of his clothes, without struggling or curiously peeking out.

Dog flicked its tail, strolled to the edge of the platform, squatted down, and looked down at the bloody battle below with its dark eyes, a hint of mockery flashing in them.

Ji Zuodao gently stroked Qiqi's hair with one hand, while holding a jade pipe in the other.

The "Sanling smoke" in the pipe seemed to have burned out.

He rubbed his fingertips together, and a small, eerie blue flame appeared, rekindling some homemade tobacco with an even stranger smell.

He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

A wisp of blue smoke rose and swirled around his expressionless young face.

He watched quietly.

Watching this event, which he himself ignited and set with its sole rules...

A desperate struggle.

Time stretched out endlessly amidst the screams and carnage, as if frozen into eternity.

I don't know how much time passed.

The voices from the audience gradually faded away.

Only one person remained standing.

Yunniang.

She dragged her feet and slowly climbed the platform.

The hairpin in her hand, stained with sticky blood and bits of flesh, fell to the ground with a clatter, its sound particularly jarring in the deathly silence.

Her clothes were so stained that their original color was no longer visible.

His face, neck, and arms were covered in scratches, teeth marks, and splattered blood.

His eyes were frighteningly empty, staring straight at Ji Zuodao, who was still leaning against the chaise longue.

"Investigator Hime..."

Her voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scraping, and every word seemed to carry the scent of blood.

"Are you satisfied with this performance?"

Ji Zuodao didn't answer, but tilted his head slightly, his usual shy smile on his face, and looked back at her calmly.

Looking at him like this, Yunniang's empty eyes suddenly surged with an extremely abnormal and distorted light, and her voice suddenly rose, becoming hysterically sharp:

"Are you satisfied?! Speak up! They're all dead! I killed them all! I sent them to their deaths one by one!!"

"I'm the one who survived! The only one! According to your rules! I survived! I can survive, right?! Right!!!"

She screamed and staggered forward, as if trying to grasp some kind of confirmation.

Ji Zuodao simply watched her, smiling, and even leaned back comfortably, as if appreciating her final performance.

Just as Yunniang's emotions were about to reach their peak, and her distorted face was almost touching Ji Zuodao's eyes—

"Pfft."

A very faint, yet perfectly clear, dull thud as a sharp object pierced flesh.

Yunniang's every movement, scream, and frantic expression froze instantly.

She lowered her head stiffly and extremely slowly.

Look at the side of your neck.

A broken piece of jade tobacco pipe was deeply embedded there. The sharp edge of the break pierced her skin and blood vessels, sinking into her flesh.

Holding the other end of the pipe was a hand that was trembling violently, with broken nails, and was also covered in blood.

Following that hand—

It's Azi.

She had been hiding in the shadows behind the sandalwood chaise lounge, but now she finally crawled out.

This pipe was the very one that Yunniang had thrown in her rage, injuring her shoulder.

She held it tightly in her hand, hiding it behind her back, as if grasping at the last straw, or as if holding the venomous fangs of revenge.

Yunniang made a strange "hoarse" sound from her throat.

There was no anger, no resentment in his eyes, only a blank, incredulous emptiness, and a rapidly spreading, deeper ashes of death.

As if burned, Azi abruptly released her grip, staggered backward, and fell to the ground. Looking at the trembling pipe at Yunniang's neck and her own bloodstained hand, she trembled like a leaf.

"Uh...cough..."

Yunniang tried to laugh, but as soon as her lips twitched, large gushes of warm blood gushed from her pierced throat and mouth, silencing all sound.

She looked at Ji Zuodao, at his ever-present smiling face, and then slowly turned her eyes to look at the devastated, bloody, and lifeless "battlefield" below the stage.

Finally, her gaze fell on her hands, which were stained with the blood of her fellow disciples.

His lips twitched again, seemingly with great difficulty.

It was as if he had finally understood something, yet it was also as if he hadn't understood anything at all.

Then, the body that had just killed dozens of sisters and barely managed to climb onto the platform lost its last bit of support and fell heavily backward.

"Bang."

A dull sound.

Yunniang, once a charming and powerful woman who managed the Hehuan Sect's businesses, stared wide-eyed at the empty space where she had built up her business over many years, now turned into a pool of blood.

Fresh blood gushed from the wound on her neck, quickly spreading beneath her and mixing with the dried, blackened bloodstains on her body, making them indistinguishable.

Azi slumped a few steps away, looked at Yunniang's fallen body, then suddenly turned her head and crawled to Ji Zuodao's feet.

She pressed her forehead tightly against the cold, blood-stained ground, afraid to look up.

His whole body was curled up in a ball, trembling so badly it felt like it was about to fall apart, and a suppressed, incoherent sob came from his throat.

"Lady...Lady...I'm alive...I'm alive..."