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

I glanced at the time; it was exactly eleven o'clock.

My phone vibrated; it was a text message from Jin Wanliang: "Brother, the car's downstairs, let's go."

I took a deep breath, tucked the scalpel into my sleeve, picked up the prepared gold bars, and turned to walk into the night.

After going downstairs, Jin Wanliang's black Mercedes-Benz was already parked downstairs.

After getting into the car, Jin Wanliang kept talking non-stop while driving.

It made my head buzz.

He only started talking less after half an hour of driving away.

Ten minutes later, the Mercedes-Benz stopped on a muddy dirt road in the northern suburbs.

At this moment, it was pitch black outside the car window, and the only light source was the light emanating from the car headlights.

"Brother, we've arrived."

Jin Wanliang took a deep breath, turned off the engine, took out a smiling Buddha mask from his pocket, put it on his face, and his voice came out in a muffled tone.

"Remember, once we enter that fog, we're mute and deaf. Aside from buying and selling, don't concern yourself with anything else."

I nodded, put on the mask, leaving only my eyes showing.

After getting off the car, Jin Wanliang walked ahead, clutching the black ghost token tightly in his hand.

We trudged through the mud and water, heading deeper into the mass grave.

The further you go in, the thicker the fog becomes.

After walking for about ten minutes, a huge, withered old locust tree suddenly appeared in front of us.

Two white paper lanterns hung from the tree trunk, their green flames swaying precariously in the wind.

Two "people" dressed in funeral clothes and with their faces covered in thick white powder stood under the tree.

They held mourning sticks in their hands, staring blankly at everyone who approached.

Jin Wanliang didn't speak, but simply raised the ghost token in his hand.

The two "gatekeepers" rolled their eyes, as if they had come to life, and slightly stepped aside to make way for each other.

I also revealed the Ghost Token and followed Jin Wanliang inside.

The moment I passed through the old locust tree, the sounds of the wind and rain suddenly disappeared.

Instead, there was a deathly silence.

The fog in front of us dissipated somewhat, revealing a bizarre and wonderful world.

This is no market; it's clearly a graveyard.

The stalls were set up haphazardly next to the grave mounds, some even laid directly on the tombstones.

The stall owners were all strangely dressed; some were wrapped in black robes, some wore hideous ghost masks, and some simply covered their heads with black cloth.

There were no hawkers' cries, no clamor of bargaining.

All transactions were conducted silently; when a buyer saw something they liked, they would simply hold up their finger to indicate the price.

Whether the seller nods or shakes their head, the transaction is completed immediately, with no delays or ambiguity.

"Over here." Jin Wanliang lowered his voice and tugged at my sleeve.

I carried my suitcase, my eyes scanning the stalls on both sides.

The things they sell here are really weird.

On a stall to the left, there were several ceramic jars with seals on them, and the faint sound of a baby crying could be heard coming from inside.

On the right, a stall was selling plates of still-beating internal organs.

The stall owner was an old woman with only one hand, who was sprinkling some kind of red powder on her internal organs with that withered hand.

Not far away, there were also vendors selling jade artifacts for burial and talismans made from unknown animal hides.

I looked away, secretly on guard.

This place truly is a lawless zone.

I mobilized the internal energy of malevolence within my body and spread my perception.

The corpse stitcher is most sensitive to evil energy. What I'm looking for is something that can resonate with the energy within my body.

After walking about fifty or sixty meters, the black bone needle in his arms suddenly trembled slightly.

I paused, my gaze fixed on a small stall not far ahead.

It was a stall set up on a broken tombstone. The stall owner was a short, hunchbacked man wearing a comical monkey mask.

The stall was cluttered with scrap metal, which looked like it had been dug out from some ancient battlefield.

But I could sense an extremely sharp and ferocious aura emanating from that pile of waste, constantly stimulating my nerves.

I walked over and squatted down.

He rolled his eyes under the monkey mask, but didn't speak; he just stared at me quietly.

I rummaged through the pile of junk and finally picked up a dark, black stone.

This thing is extremely heavy and has a rough surface, like some kind of metal ore.

"What is this?"

I asked in a low voice.

The hunchback stretched out two fingers, pointed to his throat, and waved his hand to indicate that he was mute.

Then, he wrote a few words on the muddy ground:

"The cornerstone of the guillotine."

A chill ran through me.

No wonder it exudes such a chilling aura; this is actually the foundation stone beneath the guillotine of an ancient execution ground!

For thousands of years, the blood of countless condemned prisoners has been sprayed on it, soaking the stone. The resentment of countless dead souls and the murderous aura of executioners have gathered within it, and over the years, it has formed a natural "evil stone".

This thing is extremely unlucky for ordinary people; even touching it can cause a serious illness.

But for me, who cultivates demonic energy, it is an invaluable treasure!

I can absorb the malevolent energy within to cultivate my inner strength, and I can also use it to hone my willow-leaf blade.

Although my willow-leaf knife is sharp, it is still made of ordinary iron. If I can use this evil stone to polish it day and night, the blade will be coated with a layer of evil energy that can ward off evil. In the future, its power will be greatly increased when dealing with those fierce ghosts and zombies.

"How much?" I asked.

The hunchback stretched out one hand, spreading his five fingers.

In the ghost market, this gesture usually represents the weight of gold.

Five taels of gold.

Based on the current gold price, it's worth about 70,000 to 80,000 yuan.

However, these items command a significant premium in the ghost market, since they are priced but not readily available.

Without hesitation, I placed the suitcase on the ground and opened it a crack.

The golden light was particularly dazzling in the dimly lit ghost market, instantly attracting the attention of several stall owners nearby.

Without changing my expression, I pulled out a large yellow croaker from inside.

The gold bars I bought from the bank are 500 grams each, which is equivalent to ten taels.

I tossed the gold bar onto the stall. "Keep the change. I'll take the rest of the junk from this stall."

This cursed stone is worth far more than five taels of gold. I don't want to haggle over such a small amount of money, and I don't want to flaunt my wealth for too long.

Although the other scrap metal on this stall is not as good as the evil stone, it is still tainted with a lot of evil energy. It's perfect to take it back and feed it to the black bone needle.

The hunchback was clearly surprised that I would agree so readily; a glint of shrewdness flashed in his cloudy eyes.

He quickly grabbed the gold bars, took a bite, then bowed to me, wrapped the pile of things in a rag, and pushed it in front of me.

I picked up the cloth bag, turned around and left.

Jin Wanliang, watching from the side, was speechless and muttered under his breath, "Brother, that's quite a sum! This big yellow croaker for this pile of broken stones?"