What do you mean by saying that the corpses I sew are all ominous creatures?

Under my mental control, the black bone needle drew a strange arc in the air.

When the Ghost Gate Needle Technique is used, the tips of the bone needles carry a mysterious and powerful suppressive force targeting the soul.

The first needle pierced the dragon corpse's brow!

That is the dwelling place of the "Thief-Swallowing" spirit.

The moment the bone needle pierced through, the frantically struggling body of the living dragon corpse stiffened abruptly, and the red light in its eyes flashed violently.

The second needle was inserted into the Dazhui acupoint on the back of its head!

That is the nexus of the "non-poisonous" soul.

The living dragon corpse let out an extremely miserable wail, and its muscles, which were originally as hard as iron, began to loosen slightly.

The third needle was inserted into its coccyx, specifically the Mingmen point!

That is the foundation of the "purification" spirit.

Once all three needles were in place, I exerted force with my left hand, channeling all the mercury-based evil energy within me into its body through my fingertips.

"Sew!"

I roared.

The three originally invisible lines of malevolent energy, guided by the black bone needles, intertwined into a dense net within the body of the living dragon corpse.

Its originally violently pulsating corpse energy was tightly restrained by this net.

The living dragon corpse's body went limp instantly, and the fierce light in its eyes began to dim rapidly.

But I know this isn't over yet.

I can only control it for a short time; with my current strength, I can only maintain it for a maximum of three seconds.

But three seconds is enough.

I released my left hand from its neck. Although blood was gushing from my right shoulder, I could no longer feel the pain.

The desire brought by the venomous aura had reached its limit, and even the cool sensation was beginning to become uncontrollable.

All I could see was blood; I even wanted to bend down and bite the beast's neck off.

I know that I'm nearing my limit right now.

"The final... cut."

At that moment, my voice must have sounded like it was coming from the depths of hell.

I gripped the hilt of the scalpel tightly with my right hand.

At that moment, I frantically poured all the remaining malevolent energy within me, including the last vestiges of my sanity, into the blade.

The willow-leaf blade, which was originally enveloped in malevolent energy and turned black, turned crimson at this moment.

The baleful blade of energy extending from the tip of the knife sliced ​​through the air with a sharp, explosive sound.

At that moment, the soil beneath my feet collapsed under the pressure.

Then, holding the knife in both hands, I stepped forward and unleashed the most decisive strike since my breakthrough.

A crescent-shaped arc of blood-red light flashed and disappeared on the dark mountaintop.

At that moment, the wind stopped.

All the sounds around seemed to disappear.

I only felt the blade cutting into something extremely tough.

Then came the sound of bones cracking, and finally a pleasant, ethereal sound.

"Thump."

A soft sound rang out.

The dragon corpse's head, covered in purple hair, spun high into the sky before landing heavily next to Yan Kuan's pile of rotten flesh.

Its massive headless corpse remained in a forward-leaning posture.

What gushed from his neck was not fresh red blood, but a thick, black, corpse-like vapor, as thick as oil.

I leaned on my scalpel, half-kneeling on the ground, panting heavily.

The baleful state is rapidly fading.

It felt like being violently dragged back to the ground from the clouds, my whole body was spasming.

Not only that, but as the evil spirits faded, my wounds started to ache.

Just then, the sound of hurried footsteps came from the woods not far away.

I turned my head and glanced at Zhou Ming behind the tombstone.

His face grew paler and paler, and the rise and fall of his chest was so faint that it was almost imperceptible to the naked eye.

Although the black threads wrapped around him lost their source due to the death of the living dragon corpse, they no longer absorbed yang energy.

But the black lines had already cut deep into his flesh, and the wounds were a shocking bluish-black.

He's probably just hanging on by a thread right now, and could be meeting their founder at any moment.

"Hold on, Zhou Ming. Judging from the noise, hopefully your people have arrived."

I estimated the time; it had been about two hours since I arrived at Zhoujia Village.

If it wasn't someone from the Jiangcheng Folk Customs Bureau who came this time, then it can only be said that God is going to punish Zhou Ming.

After muttering something, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the porcelain bottle containing the muscle-regenerating pills.

He poured out two pills, put one into Zhou Ming's mouth, and swallowed the other himself.

The pill went down into my stomach and transformed into a warm current, which barely protected the acupoints near my heart that were almost dried up.

Just then, several blinding beams of light from flashlights tore through the thick darkness of the night on the mountaintop and the lingering aura of corpses, sweeping straight towards them.

"Alert! Measure the residual yin energy concentration! Medical team, follow up!"

A deep, middle-aged male voice rang out from the edge of the woods.

Immediately afterwards, seven or eight figures dressed in black uniforms and fully armed rushed out of the woods.

When I looked up, I felt a huge weight lifted off my shoulders.

People from the Jiangcheng Folk Customs Bureau, Special Task Force.

I recognized the two people at the very front.

The burly man on the left, carrying a shield covered in inscriptions, is Zhao Tie.

The tall, thin man on the right, holding a peach wood sword, is Fang He.

They rushed to the top of the mountain, the beams of their powerful flashlights sweeping across the ruins.

When the beam of light landed on the dismembered remains of the living dragon, I clearly heard a collective gasp of shock.

"Old Zhou! Zhou Ming!"

Zhao Tie spotted Zhou Ming lying beneath the tombstone, his fate unknown.

His rugged face instantly filled with anxiety. He didn't even bother to pick up his shield, throwing it to the ground and rushing over in three quick steps.

"Medical team! Get the hell over here! Old Zhou is dying!" Zhao Tie roared in a rough voice.

His hands trembled as he tried to touch Zhou Ming, but he was afraid of damaging the black lines on his body, and his eyes welled up with tears.

Two special operations team members carrying first aid kits quickly ran over.

Instead of using a regular stethoscope, they first took out a yellow talisman and stuck it on Zhou Ming's forehead, then took out a silver needle and pierced his fingertip.

Looking at the black blood flowing from Zhou Ming, his expression was extremely solemn.

"With over 70% deficiency of Yang energy and the invasion of Yin pathogens, immediately prepare an intravenous injection of a tonic to strengthen the body's foundation, apply a heart-protecting talisman, and lift the body onto a stretcher. Be careful with your movements!"

The medical team made arrangements at an extremely fast pace.

Seeing that Zhou Ming was dealt with properly, I finally felt relieved.

At this moment, Fang He, holding the peach wood sword, carefully walked around the pool of foul-smelling black blood on the ground and stood in front of me.

He glanced at the five blackened, bloody holes in my right shoulder, then at the enormous, purple-haired zombie head not far away, and his Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty.

"Consultant Chen... are you alright?"

Fang He's voice was filled with obvious reverence.

"It's alright, I won't die."

I replied slowly, pulled the scalpel out of the mud, wiped the blood on my tattered trousers, and then slowly stood up straight.