From Paper Craftsman to World-Suppressing Immortal

"Help! Help me!"

Ahead of the official road, a boy of about fifteen or sixteen years old stumbled and ran towards them, crying as he ran. Perhaps due to exhaustion or excessive fright, the boy tripped and fell after a few steps, but got up and continued running.

As the boy drew closer, Zhang Zhixuan could see clearly that the boy was covered in bruises and mud, his face smeared with tears, clearly having suffered a major misfortune and was on the verge of despair.

Seeing Zhang Zhixuan, the old man driving the cart, and the group of refugees following not far behind them, the boy pleaded in a hoarse voice, "Dear elders, please have mercy and save my sister!"

The old man driving the cart reined in his horse, and the refugees behind him also stopped. Everyone looked at the boy who was pleading desperately.

"You...you are Little Tiger from Li Family Village?" An old woman in the refugee line suddenly asked in surprise. The boy stopped crying abruptly and looked at the old woman with a stunned expression.

"Yes, I am Little Tiger from Lijiazhuang."

"Didn't you go to Lucheng with your parents to stay with relatives a few days ago? What are you doing here? And in this state..."

Upon hearing her question, the boy suddenly burst into tears, his cries filled with anguish: "My family was robbed by bandits. My parents are dead, and all our belongings were stolen. They... they even tried to sell me and my sister. I barely managed to escape with my sister, but she has a high fever, her body is burning hot..."

"Please... save my sister... she's my only family..."

The refugees looked at each other. Some shook their heads, some sighed, and some turned their faces away. In this world, they couldn't even survive themselves, so who had the time to care about others?

The old driver stared intently at the disheveled boy pleading for help, his dark, dry hands gripping the reins as if stirring up some painful memory.

A moment later, the old man jumped off the mule cart, walked over to the boy, and squatted down: "Good boy, where is your sister?"

The boy, as if grasping at a lifeline, quickly grabbed the old man's hand and said excitedly, "It's in that grove of trees ahead, not far, just a short walk away."

"Grandpa, please, please save my sister. I'll be eternally grateful, even if I have to do anything for you."

"Good children, get up quickly, get up quickly. You and your siblings will ride in my mule cart, I'll take you to Tianjin to find a doctor..."

The old man driving the cart turned around and met Zhang Zhixuan's gaze. He smiled bitterly and said, "Young man, lend a hand. It won't take much time. When I see this child, I think of my deceased grandson. If that poor kid were alive, he would be this big by now..."

Zhang Zhixuan remained silent for a moment, looking at the pitiful boy, then at the old man driving the cart, and finally gave a faint reply: "Alright."

The old man opened the door, and the old woman who had just asked questions in the refugee line also wanted to call on a few people willing to help.

The refugees talked amongst themselves, and in the end, quite a few were willing to go and help. The minority had to obey the majority. When the main group was about to leave, those who didn't want to go but didn't want to leave the group had to bite the bullet and follow along.

The young man thanked them profusely and led the way for them.

They followed the boy away from the main road and turned into a small path in the woods not far away.

The road became increasingly desolate as Zhang Zhixuan walked alongside the mule cart, feeling more and more uneasy. He deliberately slowed his pace and looked around. This kind of place was indeed easy to hide in, but it was also a good place to ambush.

After walking for a short while, an open space finally appeared in front of him, and the boy stopped and did not go any further.

"Where is your sister?" the old man asked.

The boy didn't answer, but quickly moved his feet to keep his distance from the others. Then, he put two fingers in his mouth and suddenly whistled.

The whistle was loud and piercing, echoing across the empty wilderness.

The next second, more than a dozen burly figures suddenly sprang out of the woods.

These men, dressed in tattered gray military uniforms, carrying guns and knives, quickly surrounded the area from all directions.

The refugees realized they had been tricked, and some turned to run away, but were immediately stopped at gunpoint by several soldiers and bandits.

The old man driving the cart turned pale and his legs went weak. He never expected that he would be the one who had advised Zhang Zhixuan not to do good deeds indiscriminately, and now he was the one who had fallen into this predicament, and had even implicated Zhang Zhixuan.

On the other side, Zhang Zhixuan stood motionless beside the mule cart, silently ordering the two paper puppet soldiers in the basket to be ready to launch a surprise attack at any time.

Among the many soldiers and bandits, the leader was a bald, dark-faced man.

He held a Mauser pistol, walked up to the boy, and patted him on the back of the head: "Not bad, Little Tiger, well done!"

The boy lowered his head, remained silent, and quietly stepped aside.

Only then did the crowd realize they had been tricked. They pointed at the boy and cursed him loudly, but what they received in return was an even more brutal and merciless beating and cursing from the bandits.

The bald bandit leader turned around, looking at the group of refugees with considerable impatience: "Alright, alright, all of you, shut the hell up!"

He spat, pointed his gun at the crowd, and shouted, "Hurry up and hand over all your valuables! Silver dollars, jewelry, grain—leave nothing behind! Anyone who dares to hide anything, I'll shoot them on the spot!"

"Sir, we are all refugees fleeing famine. We don't have anything valuable on us. Please have mercy and let us go..." An old man pleaded desperately in the refugee line.

The bald man tilted his head, looked at the old man, and grinned maliciously: "Let you go?"

The old man was about to respond.

"Bang!" The bald man raised his hand and fired a shot, the bullet hitting the old man squarely in the forehead.

The body fell to the ground, immediately eliciting screams of terror from the refugee group.

"I'll say it one more time: bring out all your valuables. Anyone who dares to utter another word will suffer the same fate as this old man!"

Many refugees were already fleeing from disaster, and now they are facing this situation again, making their survival even more difficult and leaving them feeling utterly hopeless.

The crowd resigned themselves to their fate, ceasing their resistance and mechanically and numbly handing over the little wealth and food they possessed.

Just when everyone was in despair, a bandit soldier also set his sights on Zhang Zhixuan, who was carrying a basket on his back.

"What's inside?"

"Sir, I'm a paper craftsman. This only contains my paper crafts, which are for the dead. They're worthless, and there's nothing else here..."

"Stop talking nonsense and hand it over! Otherwise, I'll blow your head off!" The soldier and bandit pointed their guns at Zhang Zhixuan.

Zhang Zhixuan could only force a smile as he slowly untied the basket from his back and opened it...

"Look, there are only two paper figures..."

The soldiers and bandits walked up, craning their necks and staring intently into the basket. Inside, there were indeed only two pale, paper figures.

"Damn it, what bad luck!" the soldier cursed, his head poking out as he turned back.

Suddenly, a pale white paper knife shot out from the basket with lightning speed, striking the soldier and bandit squarely in the head!

The tip of the paper knife pierced directly through the soldier's head, and without losing momentum, it cleaved down again, splitting the soldier in two!

The commotion immediately attracted the attention of the other soldiers and bandits. The bald leader roared and fired the first shot at Zhang Zhixuan.

Zhang Zhixuan was already on guard, and quickly pulled the old man driving the cart to squat down and hide behind the mule cart. At the same time, the other refugees who heard the gunshots also instinctively fled in terror or lay down on the ground in fright.

"kill!"

At the same time Zhang Zhixuan gave the order, two paper puppet soldiers shot out from the baskets on their backs, their movements agile and swift, as fast as cheetahs.

One of the paper puppet soldiers, wielding a paper knife, drew a white shadow in the air and headed straight for the bald leader.

"What is this thing!" The bald man fired several shots at the paper puppet rushing towards him, but the bullets penetrated the paper puppet's body without having any effect.

In his terror, all he could do was roar helplessly, and finally, with wide eyes, he watched as his head left his body.

"Boss Kong, Boss Kong is dead!" With the death of their leader, the band of soldiers and bandits instantly lost their backbone, but someone immediately tried to take their place and control the situation.

"Don't panic! We have guns! What are you afraid of!" Before the soldier and bandit finished speaking, a pale figure suddenly appeared in front of them. The next second, a paper knife swept across and cut the soldier and bandit in half at the waist.

Only then did people realize that the two paper figures were the ones who had been killing people.

"That's... a Law Master..."

"Among those people are law enforcers!"

Among the soldiers and bandits, a knowledgeable and experienced man shouted, and the moment they heard that word, all the soldiers and bandits were terrified and lost all will to fight.

They disregarded everything else and scrambled to escape.

Zhang Zhixuan, however, did not give them a chance.

"Kill! Leave no one alive!" Zhang Zhixuan ordered the two paper puppet soldiers.