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

I flashed and appeared in front of them.

The hilt of the scalpel struck repeatedly, accurately hitting the back of the heads of two of them.

"Bang! Bang!"

Without uttering a sound, the two of them rolled their eyes and fainted.

The last remaining leader was now terrified.

He looked at his comrades, who were either dead or wounded, and then at me standing in front of him, who hadn't even been splattered with a drop of blood. His legs began to tremble uncontrollably.

He abruptly threw away the dagger in his hand, fell to his knees in the mud with a thud, and his voice became sharp and hoarse with fear:

"Spare me...spare me! Master, spare me! We were just doing this for money, it has nothing to do with us!"

I stopped, casually wiped the blood off the scalpel on a nearby log, and then slowly put the knife away.

The surroundings fell silent, with only Jin Wanliang's heavy breathing in the distance and the chattering of the black-clad man in front of him.

I walked up to him and looked down at him.

Although it was pitch black all around, the cool sensation between my brows allowed me to clearly see his face, which was covered in terror and mud.

"Don't be afraid, I'm usually a very reasonable person."

I crouched down, looked him straight in the eye, and spoke in a calm and gentle tone.

If you ignored the corpses and blood all around, and just listened to my voice...

They'd probably think I was having a casual chat with an old friend.

"It's not easy for anyone to make a living, and I'm not some bloodthirsty monster."

I reached out and patted his mud-covered shoulder, and even thoughtfully straightened his crooked hat.

"As long as you cooperate obediently and answer a few simple questions for me."

I guarantee I'll give you the quickest and most painless way to die, so you won't feel a single ounce of pain.

How was it?

Upon hearing the first part of the sentence, the man in black initially thought there was still hope for his life, and a glimmer of light flashed in his eyes.

But when he heard the second half of the sentence, "I'll give you a quick death," the light went out instantly.

He felt as if he had fallen into an ice cave, and shook his head desperately.

"No...no! I don't want to die! Master, I'll tell you whatever you ask, please spare my life!"

He pleaded desperately, almost to the point of collapse.

I sighed softly and shook my head helplessly.

"Look at you, you're being a bit immature."

My tone remained gentle, but my eyes gradually turned cold.

"You brought a group of people, armed with knives, and released poisonous insects to kill me."

Now that you can't beat me, I'll spare your life.

Is there any business in this world that guarantees a profit without any risk?

I slowly stood up, put my hands in my pockets, and gently turned the lightning-struck wooden safety buckle inside.

"I actually have a pretty good temper, but I hate it when people try to bargain with me."

You now only have two choices.

First, tell me everything you know honestly, and I will keep my promise.

One cut, and you're gone before your pain receptors even have time to register it.

I paused, my tone softening further, as if describing a beautiful work of art:

"Second... you don't tell, or you tell lies."

Let's try a different way of playing then.

I don't know if you've ever heard of some methods that torment people's souls?

No knife needed, no poison needed.

It means slowly extracting your soul from this body and then roasting it over a ghost fire.

That feeling is a hundred times more exhilarating than being sliced ​​into a thousand pieces. Wouldn't you like to experience it for yourself?

To be honest, I don't know any evil magic that involves extracting souls.

I usually sew corpses and ghosts; those are legitimate skills for helping spirits pass on and quelling their resentment.

This method of extracting the soul of a living person and torturing them is a despicable act only evil cultivators would do.

However, I know that these people who make a living through shady dealings in the folk culture world can probably withstand ordinary physical pain.

But fears that touch the soul are the most powerful weapons to break down their psychological defenses.

That's why I use the gentlest tone to deliver the most vicious threats.

A sense of contrast can often bring greater psychological pressure.

To increase the credibility of my statement, I had a thought, and the black bone needle I kept close to my body trembled slightly.

A chilling aura, carrying a heavy deathly presence and eerie fluctuations, silently wrapped around the neck of the man in black from my fingertips.

It was a chilling cold that went straight to the depths of the soul.

The man in black froze abruptly, his eyes widening instantly, his pupils dilating.

He clearly sensed that aura that seemed capable of truly freezing one's soul.

At that moment, his psychological defenses crumbled instantly in the face of this unknown fear.

"I...I'll tell you! I'll tell you everything!"

His voice was trembling uncontrollably, and snot, tears, and muddy water streamed down his face.

"Don't steal my soul... I'll talk!"

"That's right, everyone can save some energy."

I squatted down in front of him and asked in an almost amiable tone.

"My first question is, who are you all employed by?"

The man in black swallowed hard, his saliva stained with blood, and stammered in response:

"It's...it's Grandpa Black!"

We were all under the command of Old Man Hei in Luohua Town.

"He arranged for us to ambush you at this abandoned logging camp, saying that if we saw any unfamiliar faces approaching, we should kill them immediately."

"Grandpa Blackie?" I raised an eyebrow slightly.

It's remarkable that he could recruit over a dozen assassins with rudimentary knowledge of Gu techniques in such a remote and impoverished place as Southern Xinjiang, and even win over these three rogue cultivators who had barely reached the Inner Breath Condensation Realm.

This old man from the Blackie's family was definitely a deeply entrenched local bully in Luohua Town.

It should be noted that for independent cultivators without a proper lineage, being able to cultivate their inner energy to the condensed liquid state is already considered a very rare skill.

If it weren't for encountering a freak like me who has been through countless life-or-death battles, an ordinary rogue cultivator might have actually met their demise in tonight's situation.

"Second question, was that the same black man who caused the convoy a few days ago?"

I asked.

"It was...it was Grandpa who personally led us to do it!"

The man in black nodded frantically, as if afraid that if he hesitated even a second longer, I would change my mind.

"Eight days ago, on the night the convoy entered the town."

The formation that concealed the traces was set up by Grandpa, and the "ghost carrying the cart" spell was also cast by Grandpa himself.

He promised us, the leaders, that if we did this job cleanly and efficiently, the three of us would each receive a settlement allowance of three million.

Three million per person?

I sneered inwardly.

The Lan family's shipment was worth tens of millions, and this old man in black is quite generous.

"Why did the old man from the black family attack this convoy?"

I toyed with the scalpel in my hand, its blade reflecting a faint light in the darkness.

"How could he, a local tyrant, know in advance what was in the car?"

Also, where are you hiding that convoy now?

Upon hearing this question, a hint of confusion and panic flashed in the man's eyes.