Chapter Seventy-Nine: Stirring Public Outrage

I casually tossed the bank card out the window; I didn't know the password anyway, so it was useless to me. Then I placed the other items back into my original ring and stored all my personal belongings in the new ring. This way, things became much clearer, and I wouldn't accidentally grab the wrong item in a hurry.

When I looked up again, the taxi was already approaching the outskirts, heading toward the mountain where Second Uncle lived.

"Young man, what are you doing out in the mountains?" the driver suddenly asked. But I sensed something off.

He deliberately lowered his voice when speaking to me, and I noticed he wore a ring on his driving hand—it looked like a storage ring.

I didn't make any rash moves, choosing instead to observe quietly.

"Oh, I'm here to hike," I replied, making up an excuse, but it didn't seem to fool him.

"Is that so?" He suddenly lowered his head and smiled wickedly, and I knew something was wrong.

I quickly reached for my Snowblade, and at the same moment, he swerved the car sharply into the roadside ditch.

The vehicle rolled several times before finally coming to a stop. I suffered numerous scrapes, but these were merely superficial wounds and didn't hinder me.

Surveying my surroundings, I saw the driver had already exited the car. I hurried after him, kicking open the door and crawling out.

He was waiting for me outside. The moment I emerged, he kicked me, sending me flying.

That kick was no ordinary strike, far beyond the strength of a first-grade Spirit Flower; he must be at least third-grade, or even higher.

"Who are you?" I crouched on the ground, clutching my stomach, my face twisted in pain as I demanded.

"You killed several of my disciples a few days ago, didn't you?" he replied.

I thought carefully; apart from those suited men I killed days ago, there was no one else.

"Yes, those men in suits."

"They just wanted to snatch some money. What did they do wrong? Why did you kill them?" he said, grinning with a twisted smile, like a madman.

I gritted my teeth and stood up, summoning my Snowblade, ready to fight to the death.

But I was too naïve. Just as I tried to resist, he slashed my wrist with a small knife, severing the artery and causing blood to gush out, splattering his face.

To my horror, he perversely licked the blood, smacking his lips.

Now, drained and powerless from blood loss, I collapsed onto the ground.

I quickly recalled my Snowblade to prevent him from stealing it again.

Then darkness swallowed my vision and I lost consciousness.

...

He seemed to drag me for a long time; my back was covered in wounds, and small stones had embedded themselves in my flesh, making me unbearably uncomfortable.

I don't know how much time passed before I was brought to a large house and tied to a chair.

I only regained consciousness when someone slapped my face.

Opening my eyes, the first thing I saw was that man leering at me.

I quickly took stock of my surroundings; it seemed to be a large warehouse, with only a shabby wooden table before me.

Seeing me awake, he leisurely drew a dagger from his ring and said,

"My name is Ma Zhipeng. All my life, I've loved the taste of children's blood... Ah, that flavor..."

I looked at Ma Zhipeng with utter contempt. To think someone could be so bloodthirsty—disgusting beyond measure.

I discreetly felt for my ring; thank goodness it was still there. Now I understood why his disciples had risked their lives against me—it was all to satisfy their deranged master.

He wiped his dagger on his filthy clothes and continued,

"You killed my disciples, so you must pay with your life... I will slice you, again and again..."

The more he spoke, the more depraved he became, finally caressing my face gently with his blade.

How could such a monster exist...?

But I couldn't just let myself be slaughtered; that's not my nature.

Silently, I summoned a dagger and hid it behind my back, watching Ma Zhipeng's bizarre rituals.

He pulled out several incense sticks, lit them, and bowed to the four directions, as if he was offering me as a sacrifice to the heavens.

At last, having finished his elaborate ceremony, he prepared to strike.

"Let me tell you, child, I'm a rat spirit~"

My mind went blank for a moment; I never expected he was a demon. That explained his bloodthirsty obsession.

As his dagger lunged toward me, I mustered my strength and kicked at his belly.

But being a rat, his movements were extraordinarily agile; he dodged with ease.

I quickly cut through the ropes with my dagger and stood up, but history repeated itself.

No sooner had I risen than he kicked me flying once again.

Rage surged within me. In mid-air, I summoned my Snowblade, and after crashing down, I sprang to my feet and launched an attack.

He watched me with a mocking smile, dodging every strike with unbelievable agility.

I formed a quick seal with my fingers, and unleashed a Five Spirits Art from my fingertips.

Yet, my proud technique had no effect on him at all.

I hesitated for a split second, only to be kicked away again. My Snowblade nearly slipped from my grasp, but I managed to clutch it with the last of my strength.

"Come!" I roared, standing once more.

The rat seemed to have had enough fun. He picked up the dagger from the ground and hurled it at me.

Already badly wounded and unable to move, I could only watch helplessly as the blade pierced my chest.

I thought I was finished, but at the critical moment, a mysterious power within me saved me once more.

The wound on my chest healed rapidly, though the rest of my body remained gravely injured.

The rat approached slowly, drew another small knife from his ring, and stabbed it into my shoulder.

He looked triumphant, pulling out the blade and plunging it into my other shoulder. The pain was intense, but not fatal.

Then he subjected me to inhuman torture; within just half an hour, not a single part of my body was spared.

"Child, this is the price for opposing me," he said, tossing the knife aside and wiping his bloodied hands on my clothes.

"Idiot..." Though I was on the brink of death, stubbornness still flared within me.

"Good... good... good, hahahaha... Then I'll grant your wish," he said, preparing to finish me off for good.

I closed my eyes tightly, feeling my life had reached its end, memories quietly surfacing in my mind.

But fate always brought surprises at my darkest hour.

Suddenly, the warehouse door was kicked open with force. The rat paused, turning to look.

Through a gap, I saw several people entering the warehouse. I struggled to open my eyes wider, to see more clearly.

It was my Second Uncle!

He was followed by more than thirty people, all glaring furiously at Ma Zhipeng.

"You... are unforgivable!"

Second Uncle seemed to have spotted me, and even from a distance, I could sense his genuine fury. But he still spoke,

"Over these days, you've murdered many cultivators—not just sect disciples, but wanderers alike. None escaped your cruelty."

"You think a few years of cultivation makes you invincible? All these are the disciples you've killed. Today, we're going to slaughter you, beast!"