Killing Monks

Guangyuan said coldly, "You are not Garuda! You are merely a mortal wearing a monk's robe!"

The old monk clasped his hands together, a smile on his face, still immersed in his own logic:

"The old monk practices the 'Garuda Dharma' by emulating the compassion and wisdom of Garuda and performing the work of saving sentient beings."

"Though their appearances differ, their hearts are one."

"Imitate?" Guangyuan sneered. "Your so-called 'cannibalistic salvation' is nothing more than hiding in the shadows, using a bit of cunning and violence to specifically target weak women who have no way to resist!"

"What kind of 'imitating' is it to bully the weak and fear the strong?"

The old monk's smile remained unchanged, as if he had already prepared his words:

"Their weakness stems from the heavy karmic burdens of their past lives, their limited understanding, and their deepest suffering. The old monk's assistance in their liberation is an act of compassion."

"Compassion?" Guangyuan finally laughed at this shameless sophistry.

His eyes flashed with murderous intent: "You old beast! You keep claiming to send people to the Pure Land, what proof do you have?"

"How can you prove that those poor souls you slaughtered and devoured truly went to some blissful paradise and attained great liberation?"

The old monk said solemnly, "The Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss is a manifestation of the mind; its magnificence is beyond the comprehension of ordinary people."

"They have been liberated and must now be in the Pure Land, grateful for the old monk's kindness."

Upon hearing this, Guangyuan's last thought of arguing with him was extinguished.

He knew he was wrong, and he was trying to reason with a self-deceiving cultist.

He presented the facts to the other party, who then talked to him about "idealism."

People only believe what they want to believe!

Dealing with people like that...

Reasoning is useless.

The only option is to kill!

The only option is to kill!

Guangyuan's voice was icy: "Since you are so convinced of the Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss... then I will show you some 'compassion' and send you on your way, so you can see for yourself whether your 'Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss' truly exists!"

Before he finished speaking, he had already moved!

The pitch-black true energy erupted suddenly, and with one step, the ground cracked. The fist, carrying the violent power of the "Karma Subduing Demon Skill" and the accumulated rebound force of the "One Thought of Withering and Flourishing Sutra", struck the old monk's face without any fancy moves!

The old monk's feigned solemnity crumbled instantly, and a hint of undisguised panic finally flashed in his eyes!

His instinct was to hide, to say something, his lips moving: "This old monk has saved countless people in my life, accumulating immeasurable merit. After death, I will surely... Ah—!"

"Bang--!!!"

A dull, teeth-grinding popping sound rang out!

Guangyuan's fist slammed solidly into the old monk's incessantly chattering, hypocritically wrinkled head!

The skull shattered, and red and white substances splattered everywhere!

The old monk's headless body swayed and then collapsed softly to the ground.

Guangyuan slowly withdrew his fist, looking at the blood and brains dripping from his knuckles, he shook it off in disgust, his voice filled with contempt and disdain:

"You old beast, what are you pretending for! You're clearly terrified of death, yet you pretend to be righteous and fearless!"

From the complex and strange look in the old monk's eyes when he looked at him earlier, from the carefully designed tunnel escape mechanism, from the fleeting panic before the fight just now...

Guangyuan had long seen through it; this old demon was nothing like the "detached from worldly affairs" and "selfless in saving sentient beings" he boasted about.

He was nothing more than a monster who concealed his evil with lies, was cowardly and madly cruel.

If you tell a lie a thousand times, you'll even start to believe it yourself.

But when faced with actual death, he was still instinctively afraid.

"You—!" Hai Yantian, standing to the side, finally reacted, both shocked and furious. "How could you just kill him?!"

"I will also bring him to justice, take his statement, identify his accomplices, and bring him to trial according to the law!"

Guangyuan turned his head and looked at him expressionlessly: "Don't you want to kill him?"

Hai Yantian paused for a moment, his facial muscles twitched, and a deep hatred flashed in his eyes. He gritted his teeth and said:

"I want to! I wish I could tear him to pieces! But—"

He took a deep breath and said, "I am a constable! My duty is to bring him to justice and hand him over to the Ministry of Justice for public punishment!"

"Let the law and justice decide his fate, not let him be vigilantes! That's the proper way!"

Guangyuan looked at Haiyantian's face, which was conflicted between anger and principles, and after a moment of silence, said calmly:

"Bring him back, interrogate him, send him to await execution in the autumn...wouldn't that give that old beast a few more days to live?"

Haiyantian fell silent again.

After a long silence, Haiyantian let out a long breath, as if he had unloaded some heavy burden, or as if he had made some kind of compromise. He looked deeply at Guangyuan, his voice low and deep:

"This will not be repeated."

Having said that, Haiyantian said no more.

He strode forward, bent down, grabbed the old monk's headless corpse by the back of the collar with one hand, and lifted it up like a tattered sack.

He did not leave immediately, but returned with Guangyuan to the Prajna Temple, which had become a den of demons.

The two searched the main room where the old monk lived carefully, looking for any hidden clues and evidence.

They found various items one after another, from hidden compartments under the bed, under loose soil in the corners of the walls, and even behind Buddha statues.

Several handwritten copies of "scriptures" with distorted handwriting and bizarre illustrations.

Several letters with different handwriting, obscure content, and coded language mentioning "offering," "dharma assembly," and "purification of the body,"

A few inexpensive pieces of jewelry belonging to a young woman.

And a small packet of peculiar spice powder, carefully wrapped in oil paper, which appeared to be used for pickling or preservation...

Haiyantian, with a cold expression, carefully put all the items away and placed them into the oilcloth evidence bag he carried with him.

He then carried the old monk's headless body and the bag of evidence on his shoulder, nodded to Guangyuan, and without saying goodbye, turned and strode away in the direction leading down the mountain.

The once grand Prajna Temple has fallen silent once more.

The first light of dawn could not dispel the heavy stench of blood and decay lingering in the courtyard.

Guangyuan stood alone in the empty, dilapidated courtyard, listening to the howling wind blowing through the bamboo forest, as if he could still hear the silent weeping of those innocent souls.

His gaze shifted to the main room, looking down at the dark tunnel entrance beneath the bed, which had swallowed countless lives.

After a long silence, he sighed softly.

He turned around and went down the mountain to Qujiang County, where he bought a sturdy iron shovel and a bamboo mud bucket.

Silently, he shoveled soil from the hillside near Prajna Temple, one shovel at a time.

He will personally bury this den of evil.

He shoveled the soil, gravel, and grass roots into the deep tunnel entrance.

"Click."

While taking soil from the hillside, the shovel suddenly hit a hard object.

Guangyuan stopped what he was doing, squatted down, and used his hands to brush away the loose soil.

Under the sunlight, several pieces of white bone were clearly visible. Judging from their shape, they looked like human leg bones and ribs, mixed in with the soil, and it was unknown how long they had been buried.

As they dug deeper, they discovered even more bones... Some were small, resembling those of children. Others were twisted and broken, clearly indicating they had suffered violence before death.

Guangyuan gripped the shovel, closed his eyes, and sighed deeply once more.

This old monk had no martial arts skills whatsoever, yet he had killed just as many people as those from the martial arts world.

The ruthlessness and danger of the martial world cannot be found in martial arts.

It's the human heart that matters.