Night Walkers were inherently skilled at assassination, drifting in and out of the dark without a trace. Ambushing a Transcendent-stage Witch Doctor was child's play.
Even with his mangled heart still beating and blood gushing forth in torrents, the cold young man did not die instantly. His brown pupils shrank into golden vertical slits, his nose collapsed into two breathing slits, his lips split wide all the way to the roots of his ears, and his skin turned a dusky greenish-black, sprouting hard, knobby warts.
He had transformed into an ugly, humanoid toad.
Gu Transformation!
He was preparing to make a desperate final stand.
Yet the moment his transformation was complete, the hand inside him suddenly clenched, pulverizing the crimson heart. The attacker's other hand thrust into the gaping wound in his chest and wrenched hard.
The toad-man was ripped cleanly in half—as effortlessly as tearing apart a paper figurine.
From the initial strike to the gruesome tearing, less than three seconds had elapsed. Li Zhengde's pupils dilated, his entire being paralyzed in shock.
Captain Gao, whom he revered like a god, a man who could easily crush steel and shatter boulders with a kick, had been slain just like that—as easily as snuffing out an ant.
Only then did Li Zhengde get a clear look at the assailant. It was a young man with thoroughly ordinary features, the sort of plain face that would instantly disappear in a crowd.
"Spare me, spare—" Li Zhengde began to plead, but a sharp crack cut him off. In the next instant, he found himself looking at his own back, staring down the corridor behind him.
*What... what happened to me?* The thought flashed through his mind before his consciousness plunged into eternal darkness.
His neck twisted one hundred and eighty degrees, Li Zhengde collapsed to the floor with a heavy thud. Losing control of his bowels and bladder, filth soaked his trousers as his legs twitched faintly.
Zhang Yuanqing heard the Spirit Realm system prompts announcing a gain in Reputation Points and a deduction of Morality Points, but he paid them no heed. Nowadays, killing an evil-aligned class or a regular mortal was no longer enough to make him bother checking his stats.
Besides, once the Public Security Bureau formally classified and closed the case on a villain like this, he would receive an even more generous reward of Morality Points.
Building up a thick cushion of Morality Points ensured that if he accidentally killed civilians in future battles, he would not suffer the awkward fate of becoming a Spirit Realm fugitive. Although he had always been exceptionally careful not to harm civilians, as his level rose and his destructive power expanded, guaranteeing zero accidents was nearly impossible.
The embarrassing predicaments of those three scumbags—the Grand Marshal, the President, and the club owner—back then were prime examples.
One might hope never to cross that line, but one still had to prepare for the worst.
Viscous, pitch-black energy welled up in Zhang Yuanqing's eye sockets. Staring down at the toad-man's corpse, he summoned the lingering spiritual body from within.
He opened his mouth and swallowed the bared-fanged, malevolent spirit whole.
Ten seconds later, after digesting the residual memory fragments, he snapped his fingers and dissolved into a shower of starlight.
***
Far away from the green-roofed dormitories, near an excavator in the sand quarry, a group of robust young men dressed in tank tops and shirts sat or stood around a square table.
They were playing cards, laughing uproariously when they won and spewing curses when they lost.
Scattered across the table alongside playing cards were thick stacks of banknotes.
The most conspicuous figure was a heavily tattooed man in a black shirt and jeans. A thick gold chain hung around his neck, and a cigarette dangled from his lips as he squinted at his hand, slouching with arrogant swagger.
"Fuck, absolute garbage!" The black-shirted man tossed his cards onto the table, spat out his cigarette butt, and ground it out forcefully under his shoe.
His Spirit Realm ID was "God of Gamblers." Before becoming a Spirit Walker, he had been a hardcore degenerate. Anything he owned could be wagered on the gambling table.
Money, wife, children, even his own life.
He thrived on the thrill of gambling. If he lost, he would gladly send his wife to another man's bed. What he chased was the sheer rush of getting rich overnight or losing everything down to his shirt—in his eyes, that was gambling's greatest charm.
For that reason, he never cheated. Cheating took all the fun out of it; a guaranteed win offered neither excitement nor any sense of achievement.
The thugs at the sand quarry loved playing with him precisely because of this trait.
The pile of cash in front of God of Gamblers was nearly depleted, but he did not care in the slightest. Lighting another cigarette, he waited for the next round to begin.
As the new round started, God of Gamblers took a drag, picked up two cards, glanced at them, and then slowly peeled open the third.
A two, a six, and a nine.
Another dogshit hand!
Just as God of Gamblers opened his mouth to swear, a voice came from right behind him: "Oof, what a garbage hand!"
"Fucking trash!" God of Gamblers echoed reflexively, but then a realization hit him—there shouldn't be anyone behind him.
He snapped his head around and saw an ordinary-looking young man who had materialized behind him without making a sound.
"You..." God of Gamblers's face changed. This guy wasn't one of the workers at the quarry; he was a complete stranger.
Instinctively, he sprang to his feet, trying to put distance between them, but in the next second, the man behind him rested a palm against the crown of his head.
*Smack!*
His head burst like a ripe watermelon. Brain matter and bone fragments sprayed in every direction, spattering all over the table.
The thugs around the table froze, cards clutched in hand, staring blankly as the headless corpse crashed to the ground. For a moment, their minds went completely blank.
They were given no chance to react. Yi Chuanmei drifted out from behind her master, unleashing a piercing Wraith Screech.
*Thud, thud, thud...*
The dozen-odd men collapsed one after another, perishing in utter silence.
Following his routine, Zhang Yuanqing devoured God of Gamblers's spirit, then asked, "Yi Chuanmei, does killing ordinary mortals deduct your Morality Points?"
"Master, the moment you refined me into a wraith, I lost my character card," Yi Chuanmei said, pressing herself against his back with flattering servility. "I am your servant now, not a Spirit Walker. Besides, I've always wanted a master who would mistreat and whip me..."
"Focus on your work and cut the nonsense, or I'll flog you to death tonight," Zhang Yuanqing said coldly.
"Yes, Master~" Receiving what sounded like a promise, Yi Chuanmei preened excitedly.
Zhang Yuanqing walked over to the table and swept the bloodstained stacks of banknotes together. "Confiscated for the public good!"
He then turned his gaze toward the green-roofed dormitory in the distance where the male captives were kept, using Star Escape to appear inside the leftmost room.
The air conditioner hummed, blowing frigid air across the modestly sized room. It held a comfortable double bed, upon which a seductive woman threw her head back, letting out soft, alluring moans.
She possessed exquisite features and a voluptuous figure. One young man was beneath her while another pressed from behind, flanking her in tandem.
Yet compared to the woman's obvious ecstasy, both men wore numb, forced expressions, performing their repetitive motions like mechanical automatons.
Kneeling beside the bed were two rows of naked men, heads bowed like concubines awaiting an empress's favor. Their faces and eyes held no trace of lust, only trepidation and terror.
*Tsk, tsk. This woman is practically a female version of the Lust Divine General. Someone like her ought to be tossed to the Demon Lord—guaranteed to leave her so traumatized she'd never touch a man again...* Standing beside the bed, Zhang Yuanqing took in an adult performance rarely seen even in illicit local videos.
He had no fear of being noticed by the woman. Yi Chuanmei had already ignited the trio's carnal desires, immersing them entirely in physical pleasure. At this point, even if someone pressed a gun barrel against her throat, she wouldn't snap out of it—she might even reflexively start sucking on it.
—Of course, Zhang Yuanqing had no intention of handing over his weapon.
The two rows of male slaves kneeling beside the bed were trapped in an illusion, completely oblivious to the stranger who had suddenly appeared in their midst.
After watching for a few moments, Zhang Yuanqing felt thoroughly bored. Reaching out, he clamped a hand around the woman's neck and squeezed slightly.
With a muffled *crack*, she died silently. The two men on the bed continued their rhythmic thrusts, entirely unaware that the woman beneath them was already a corpse.
Zhang Yuanqing pulled out his phone and dialed Poison Chaser's number. "Move in. The Witch Doctors inside are taken care of."
Five minutes later, a convoy roared into the sand quarry. Poison Chaser led the official Spirit Walkers as they stormed the compound. The sentries at the main gate immediately sounded the alarm, and over twenty armed thugs resting in the dormitories rushed outside with guns drawn.
Only then did they discover that their comrades over by the sand pits had already been slaughtered. The incoming convoy drove straight through the compound unhindered.
*Rat-tat-tat!*
The roar of assault rifles had barely begun when the thugs found their bodies inexplicably cleaved in two at the waist, as though sliced through by laser beams.
That was Poison Chaser's sword qi.
In a single exchange, the remnants of the sand quarry's forces were wiped out. The vehicles screeched to a halt, and official Spirit Walkers poured out with weapons raised, sweeping the area for any surviving hostiles.
Poison Chaser cast his gaze around, his eyes falling first upon the toad-man and Li Zhengde lying near the women's dormitory.
*Attacked from behind, killed in one strike...* His eyes flickered as he studied the toad-man torn in half. He then strolled forward, arriving beside God of Gamblers.
*Body slumped forward, skull crushed to pieces. Another ambush from behind, another instant kill. He is terrifyingly good at sneak attacks...* Poison Chaser then looked at the surrounding lackeys, and his shock deepened.
These men bore no external wounds whatsoever, looking as though their souls had been forcibly erased.
*So far, not a single trace of Fire Specialist techniques.*
*He really isn't a Fire Specialist...*
"Reporting, Deacon! All armed hostiles in the sand quarry have been neutralized, thirty-eight in total. In the east wing, we uncovered an ammunition depot containing tens of kilograms of narcotics and twenty crates of cash. We also located the abducted men and women in the dormitory area. They are currently secured, and we are screening them to ensure no enemies are hiding among them..." Wang Xiao'er, the Scout, returned carrying a rifle, reporting in a loud, clear voice.
Excitement and joy were written all over his face.
Poison Chaser nodded in satisfaction and asked, "Where is Deacon Sanqing Daozu?"
Wang Xiao'er's excited expression suddenly froze. Lowering his voice, he murmured, "He... he's looting the cash from the sand quarry."
Poison Chaser was stunned, then flared up in anger. "Illicit funds must be handed over to the public treasury! Stop him!"
Wang Xiao'er shrank his neck. "If you want to stop him, go ahead. I wouldn't dare."
Poison Chaser thought about it and realized that he didn't dare either. His cheek twitched violently.
Summoning his courage, driven by a Swordsman's obstinate devotion to discipline, he strode briskly toward the ammunition depot—only to find that Sanqing Daozu had already vanished, leaving the storehouse stripped clean of every last penny.
***
In the wooded hills west of the sand quarry, Zhang Yuanqing wore his Gale Gloves, whipping up a fierce gust that bent the treetops as he spotted the figures of Xie Lingxi and the other two women in the distance.
He descended immediately, stowed his gloves, and snapped his fingers, teleporting right to their side.
"Elder Yuanshi, this should be the area where Pluto slept," Annie said. "We found numerous animal carcasses in this sector. They died in mass groups and have already decayed and putrefied, which matches the timeframe of Pluto's slumber."
"We need to pinpoint the exact spot where he slept," Zhang Yuanqing said.
Annie answered promptly, "According to our preliminary survey, the radius of Pluto's slumber effect extends roughly five hundred meters. We can use the animal carcasses to map the outer boundary of the circle and calculate the center."
"Get on it right away!" Zhang Yuanqing said.
None of the three women moved.
"What's the problem?"
"We forgot how to calculate the center of a circle."
"It's understandable if Annie and Queen forgot—they're older, after all. But what's your excuse, Xie Lingxi? You're a high school student!"
"Brother Yuanshi, I'm an underachiever, okay?"
"You just didn't study at all, did you? You're a Spirit Walker from a wealthy, powerful family. Hard study and struggle are things only grassroots folks like me have to do; you can just coast through life. A bunch of useless freeloaders—in the end, a top student like me has to step in and solve it."
As Zhang Yuanqing talked, he turned his back on them, discreetly slipping out his phone to search: *How to find the center of a circle!*
"Brother Yuanshi, what are you doing back there?"
"Poison Chaser sent me a text. Just replying to him."
Before long, Zhang Yuanqing swiftly determined the center. Free of weeds and underbrush, the spot lay beneath several pine trees, covering an area about ten meters across.
Zhang Yuanqing paced beneath the trees, his head down as he searched the ground.
"Brother Yuanshi, I don't think your approach will work," Xie Lingxi offered, feeling the need to display a high schooler's common sense. "Even if he left DNA behind, it would have degraded by now."
"I know that," Zhang Yuanqing replied, continuing his search. "Normal DNA degrades, but hair doesn't break down so fast. He slept here for three days; what if he has hair loss?"
"That actually makes a lot of sense!" Xie Lingxi was thoroughly convinced.
After all, even Spirit Walkers shed hair when they slept. She lost hair all the time.
A moment later, having failed to find a single strand of human hair, Zhang Yuanqing sighed. "Fine. He doesn't suffer from hair loss. In that case, we can only resort to the clumsiest method."
He pulled out the Purple Thunder Hammer, switched it into round shield mode, and began shoveling dirt.
"The clumsiest method?" Annie asked, puzzled by his actions.
"He slept here, so this soil is bound to carry his lingering aura. I'm taking it back with me. When I perform Stargazing, it will provide me with revelations. This dirt is the only physical link we have to Pluto," Zhang Yuanqing explained.
Annie's beautiful eyes lit up with delight. "With this soil, we can locate him?"
"Of course not directly, but it should let us narrow down his general coordinates. Then we can carry out a grid search. However, we'll have to wait until he falls into another slumber, or a grid search will just spook him," Zhang Yuanqing said.
Soon, scraping the ground bare, he collected dozens of jin of soft, damp soil and packed it into Little Red Riding Hood.
Over the course of the next half-day, Zhang Yuanqing relied on the memories extracted from the two Spirit Mediums to completely uproot another stronghold, executing every Spirit Walker and criminal on-site without sparing a soul.
Following the leads found in that stronghold's Spirit Mediums' memories, he tracked down another location. Once that one was wiped out, he rushed off to the next without stopping to rest. Repeating the cycle three times, he eradicated six strongholds in total, virtually exterminating the Spirit Society's footholds in Nanming City within a single day.
The only location he deliberately avoided was the stronghold guarded by the Dominator.
By the time the final stronghold fell, it was already three in the morning.
The beauty of this blitzkrieg tactic lay in giving the enemy zero opportunity to pass word back to the stronghold where the Dominator resided. From the memories Zhang Yuanqing had gleaned, the Spirit Society's various bases checked in with one another once a day at nine in the morning to confirm their safety.
Their very first strike had begun at ten-thirty that morning, and by three the following morning, every outpost had been eliminated. When that Dominator realized what was happening come daylight, he would find himself stranded as an isolated fortress without a single ally left.
Such a tactic demanded not only crushing superiority, but also the specific talents of a Night Walker. No other class could pull it off.
Even for a Star Official, devouring so many spirits in a single day would have imposed an immense psychological burden.
Zhang Yuanqing was different; he possessed half of a Pure Yang Body.
***
Inside the Public Security Bureau's cafeteria, the lights shone brightly.
The entire staff of the Nanming Branch had gathered. Long dining tables were laden with mouthwatering local delicacies: beer fish, river snail rice noodles, duck in vinegared blood, stuffed river snails, and more.
Official Spirit Walkers and civilian staff sat side by side, broad smiles gracing every face, their eyes sparkling with fervor.
Reflecting on the events of that midday, afternoon, and evening, they still felt as if walking on clouds, living through a surreal dream they could scarcely believe.
The field operatives had personally witnessed stronghold after stronghold being dismantled and criminal after criminal put down. Their reverence for Deacon Sanqing Daozu was written plainly across their faces—many secretly wished Poison Chaser would just step down and hand the branch chief position over to him.
The desk clerks felt even more astounded; to them, the news sounded like pure myth.
That morning, when Boundless Sea of Learning had excitedly announced that the Fang Sand Quarry was eradicated, the entire office had erupted in cheers, promptly mobilizing security officers to clear away bodies and rescue the trafficked victims.
Yet as stronghold after stronghold was knocked out in relentless succession, the clerical staff were left dumbstruck, wondering at one point if Boundless Sea of Learning was talking in his sleep or had suffered a mental breakdown.
The female assistant had even placed a call to Deacon Poison Chaser specifically to verify the news.
It felt like a dream.
Indeed, nothing short of a dream. Past deacons dispatched by the Qinghe Branch to inspect their work were never short on grand ambitions, but how could ferreting out Spirit Society bases ever be easy?
Those strongholds relocated constantly—some every two to three years, others every few months. They were exceedingly difficult to trace and heavily primed for ambushes.
After a few failed attempts, earlier inspectors had grown lazy, and the staff of the Nanming Branch had descended from disappointment into numbness, abandoning all hope. Those with the means had transferred out of Nanming, while those without had gritted their teeth and held the line.
Finally, headquarters had sent an absurdly powerful senior deacon who swept away the Spirit Society's entrenched scourge like a hurricane mowing through dead wood. Even if the syndicate eventually returned, the region had bought itself at least a full year of peace and stability.
The cheering in the office had persisted from morning until night. Everyone had worked with boundless energy, coordinating smoothly with regional public security bureaus to handle all the follow-up logistics. Because the tactical team hadn't eaten lunch, the office staff had also remained glued to their desks, skipping the cafeteria entirely.
For dinner, they had rushed through a few hasty mouthfuls before diving back into communications work. By now, their stomachs were growling with hunger, yet not a single person picked up their chopsticks. Instead, every gaze was turned expectantly toward Poison Chaser.
Poison Chaser rose quietly to his feet. The cold severity on his face melted away like thawing ice, revealing a smile so rare that the branch staff had seldom ever seen it. Raising his cup, he said, "A great victory today! Everyone, please join me in welcoming Sanqing Daozu to say a few words."
At once, all eyes turned toward Sanqing Daozu!
This ordinary-looking, yet utterly charismatic deacon.
Chapter 574