Douluo Continent: Little Huo Niang Taken Away by Di Tian

Zhang Peng didn't even lift his eyelids, letting out a sneer. His withered fingers gripped the stem of the glass, but he didn't put it in his mouth: "What, are you trying to get me drunk first, then bleed me dry?"

He abruptly raised his eyes, his gaze like two beams of cold lightning, piercing directly at the Abomination Douluo, his tone aggressive: "I have lived in seclusion for many years, and no one in this Holy Spirit Sect knows of my existence, Zhang Peng. Didn't you ever consider putting something 'spiked' into my wine while I was drinking, then absorbing my cultivation and refining my soul bone? Your Holy Spirit Sect has done this kind of thing countless times, hasn't it?"

The fleshy face of the Demon Lord twitched, but then he put on a magnanimous yet sinister smile: "You are overthinking it. Although I am also an evil soul master and have done my share of heinous things, we will naturally treat elites who want to join our sect, especially titled Douluo like yourself, with sincerity."

Having said that, the Hateful Douluo clapped his hands: "Someone, bring the wine pot and replace it with two new cups."

Soon, new wine vessels were presented. The Hateful Douluo personally took the wine pot, first replacing Zhang Peng's wine with a larger white bone wine bowl, and then filling his own.

He raised the blood-filled glass to his lips, drank it all in one gulp, and then turned the glass upside down. Not a drop of blood remained, thus proving that the wine was not poisoned.

Zhang Peng also knew that since he was going to go undercover, the blood wine was an obstacle he had to overcome.

If you show too much resistance, it will arouse suspicion.

As for eating human flesh? That's a matter of principle. Once he gets involved, even if he completes the mission, Shrek Academy will never tolerate him, and that old man Moon will personally clean house.

Thinking of this, Zhang Peng no longer hesitated, snatched the large bowl of white bones, and tilted his head back to drink it down.

The hot, pungent liquid slid down his throat, triggering a wave of nausea, but he forced it down, a look of wild enjoyment on his face. He slammed the bowl heavily on the table: "Good wine! Strong enough!"

"Hahaha, that's great!" Seeing this, the Abomination Douluo clapped his hands and laughed, a satisfied glint in his eyes. "Guards, bring Scorpion Tiger Douluo a bigger bowl! Today, having met Brother Zhang, we should drink three hundred bowls!"

Zhang Peng cursed inwardly: This fatso is definitely up to no good, he wants to use me as a water buffalo!

After several rounds of drinks, with the lingering sweet and pungent aftertaste still churning in his throat, the Hateful Douluo clapped his hands, signaling the end of the banquet.

He said to Zhang Peng, "Brother Zhang, you have come from afar and must be tired from your journey. Please rest here for today. Tomorrow, I will take you to see the leader."

Upon hearing this, Zhang Peng raised an eyebrow, let out a cold laugh, and said with a hint of dissatisfaction and skepticism, "Wait until tomorrow? You wretch, are you trying to fob me off? We are both Title Douluo, capable of flying. This Demon Forest may be vast, but a little travel time won't make a difference. Why can't we go now?"

The Douluo of Hatred piled up a seemingly sincere fold of flesh on his fat face and slowly explained, "Brother Zhang, you may not know this. The Sect Master is extremely busy and his whereabouts are unpredictable. He is probably not at the main altar today. If I were to take you there rashly, wouldn't that be a disturbance? It would be better if I went to inform him first, so that you wouldn't have to make a wasted trip."

"A wasted trip?" Zhang Peng scoffed, a sharp glint in his eyes. "Since I've come, I didn't expect to leave empty-handed. If the sect leader isn't here, surely the vice sect leader is? If neither of them are..."

He paused, his tone hardening and becoming resolute, "Then I'll wait at the headquarters entrance! Even if it takes forever, I'll show you the sincerity of my surrender, Zhang Peng! What, Elder Hatred, do you have any objections?"

The Demon Lord of Hatred pondered for a moment, seemingly weighing the pros and cons, before finally laughing and standing up from the bone chair: "Brother Zhang is indeed sincere. Very well, since Brother Zhang is so eager, then come with me."

Having said that, the Hateful Douluo turned around first, his wide black robe fluttering in the cold wind, and led Zhang Peng out of the bone palace that exuded chill.

Zhang Peng followed behind him, his face expressionless, but inwardly he sneered: Trying to leave me hanging? No way. The sooner I see the big boss, the sooner I finish this charade, and the sooner this damned stench will leave my mouth.

After traversing a vast, gloomy forest, the two finally arrived at the true heart of the Holy Spirit Cult—its headquarters hall.

The main hall had a very high dome, and there were no candles around it, only a few skulls embedded in the walls that glowed with a ghostly green phosphorescence.

Most chillingly, on the high platform at the end of the hall, a man draped in a blood-red robe was meditating with his eyes closed. His aura seemed to blend into the darkness of this demonic forest, unfathomable.

That was Zhongli Wu, the leader of the Holy Spirit Cult.

The Hateful Douluo stepped forward, bowed deeply, and said with utmost respect, "Master, Scorpion Tiger Douluo Zhang Peng requests an audience."

Zhongli Wu slowly opened his eyes, his gaze falling on Zhang Peng.

"Zhang Peng?" Zhongli Wu's voice was low and hoarse as his gaze swept over Zhang Peng's old face. "It's taken you so long to come and join my sect?"

Alarm bells rang in Zhang Peng's mind; he knew this was the real test of life and death.

"Reporting to the Master, in this world, only this place can accommodate my old bones." As Zhang Peng spoke, he had a thought and began to activate the few rudimentary skills taught by Electrolux.

With his palm facing upwards, a mass of grayish-white death energy rapidly condensed, within which faint, mournful phantoms of wronged spirits howled.

Although the necromancy seemed somewhat clumsy in his hands, far less powerful than Elex's, which could change the world with a wave of his hand, the primal aura of death was undeniable.

"Oh?" Zhongli Wu raised an eyebrow slightly, seemingly sensing the peculiar magical fluctuation, and his scrutinizing gaze intensified.

Seeing this, Zhang Peng knew the time was almost right. Suddenly, his face contorted with rage, and he spat fiercely into the air, cursing loudly:

"Hmph! It's all because of that old bastard Mu En! Back then, he interrupted my cultivation without even asking what happened, ruined my future, and made me hide like a rat for decades! I hate him! I wish I could tear him apart and drink his blood!"

He cursed with all his might, spittle flying everywhere, his hatred seemingly etched into his very bones, and much of it was genuine emotion—after all, he had cursed Mu En thoroughly in his heart over the years.

After berating Mu En, Zhang Peng glanced at the burly, villainous Abomination Douluo beside him, a subtle, sarcastic smile playing on his lips. He then changed the subject, his tone seemingly praising but actually criticizing:

"Having just arrived today, I originally thought that the Holy Spirit Cult headquarters would be a place of strict rules and constant danger. But I didn't expect... hey, this abominable elder who is leading the way is quite 'cautious'."

He emphasized the word "cautious" and continued sarcastically, "I originally intended to meet the Master today and express my feelings, but Elder Zangxu insisted that the Master was too busy with affairs of state and advised me to 'rest' in the side hall, fearing that my old bones might disturb His Majesty. Tsk tsk, such 'consideration' could only come up with by someone as 'steady' as Elder Zangxu. If I hadn't insisted, I'd probably still be standing in that side hall, shivering in the cold wind."

These words, ostensibly praising the Hateful Douluo for his composure and prudence, were actually a accusation against him, suggesting that he was slow in handling affairs and even had the suspicion of obstructing the path of the virtuous and distrusting his fellow practitioners.

Upon hearing this, the Hateful Douluo's fat face stiffened instantly, his flesh twitched, and he cursed Zhang Peng in his heart: What a cunning old bastard! He forced me to lead the way in the Bone Palace just now, and now he's trying to poison the sect leader!