Wang He, at the first layer of Foundation Establishment, did not know whether he was mentally ill.
But he felt that he was definitely a promising young man of the Demonic Path.
A rising demonic star.
While the other Demonic Path practitioners were Obsessed with refining human bodies, bloody Sacrifices, and pleasurable Dual Cultivation,
Wang He would compress his Dual Cultivation time a little, using the extra hour and a half each day for academic research.
For example, how to release the Blood Fiend Technique outside his body.
He thought this Blood Fiend Technique was incredibly cool, and although it was only the lowest-level Cultivation Method, its Power was Scary.
Its only flaw was that it consumed too much of his own blood; releasing the Blood Fiend Technique required his own blood.
Wang He had never been able to figure out the Crucial point.
Why could the blood no longer be Controlled once it was too far from his body?
Why did the Blood Fiend Technique not react to the blood in other people’s bodies?
He had tried many methods before, but none had been very successful.
For example, capturing Mortals as Slaves and making them learn the Blood Fiend Technique.
Then, during battle, they would follow his Command and release the Blood Fiend Technique.
But the problem was that those people could not learn it, while those who did learn it all became his colleagues.
Wang He then tried making a Thousand Mechanisms Item.
During battle, he would release the Blood Fiend Technique while giving himself a boost with chicken blood.
But another problem arose.
Wang He had already finished designing the Blueprint. It achieved the perfect balance between size, Material, weight, and coolness.
The only problem was that he lacked Spirit Stones.
Even removing the handsome tiger head he had designed on the chest would not be enough.
Many Materials for the Thousand Mechanisms Item had to be purchased with Spirit Stones from merchants or Rogue Cultivators.
If he, a first-layer Foundation Establishment Cultivator, tried to rob them, he would easily be beaten to death.
As for asking his employer, the Spirit Snake Daoist?
That Old Man was like a Rat that had burrowed into an oil Gourd: everything went in, and nothing came out. He should not even think about borrowing money from him.
Moreover, the Spirit Snake Daoist had often scolded him over this matter, lecturing him to kill people properly, practice Dual Cultivation properly, and play with poison properly.
He told him not to think about pointless things.
Thinking too much made it difficult to improve.
There was even less hope of getting help from his fellow Demonic Path practitioners.
To train their subordinate Disciples in a wolfish mindset, every Demonic Sect had always upheld the Three Nos.
No food or lodging; everything they ate and drank had to be obtained through robbery.
No after-sales service; whether one suffered Qi Deviation or attained immortality all depended on how tough one’s fate was.
No helping fellow disciples. Mutual assistance was the weak habit of the Righteous Path; the Demonic Path relied only on itself.
Thus, the lonely and helpless Wang He could only turn his attention back to his regular job: killing and arson.
After pondering for A long time, he Targeted a group of Pig Herders driving pigs.
Chicken blood and pig blood should be more or less the same.
In any case, people had to eat Pork, but Pork was not Worthwhile enough for the pig farm to send Cultivators to escort it.
Therefore, he used Throwing Shoes to randomly decide the date he would go out and rob people that month, then went to rob the pigs.
He did not kill the people. If he killed them all, no one would deliver pigs in the future.
His research had made a major breakthrough, and he was already approaching the human experimentation stage.
The pig blood was fully prepared, so this time he could conveniently tie up all these Pig Herders and bring them back as test subjects.
“Oi! You Fatty over there, what are you doing?”
After finishing the last Gourd of pig blood, Wang He stood up, turned around, and looked toward the direction of the voice.
It was a very flamboyant-looking person. That was the only way Wang He could describe him.
He wore black clothes, his hair was streaked red and black, and he held a bone staff. Various odds and ends hung all over his body, while several little ghosts carrying bones followed Behind him, giggling and joking.
It was Somewhat exaggerated, as if he were saying, “I am of the Demonic Path, so hurry up and kill me.”
He was even more arrogant than his immediate superior, the Spirit Snake Daoist.
As for the person beside the flamboyant oddity, he perfectly matched Wang He’s standards for an outstanding Demonic Path practitioner.
An Ordinary face, Ordinary clothing, and faint Black Qi emanating from his body; he always wore an expression as if everyone owed him money.
Silent yet filled with Killing intent—at a glance, he was clearly a veteran of the Demonic Path.
Now that was a role model for practitioners of our Demonic Path.
As a Senior, Wang He nodded in satisfaction.
“Brother Zhang, do you think there’s anything wrong with me? I only need to change into black clothes.”
“Relax. Even that Fatty nodded, so there’s definitely nothing wrong. You have to believe in your Temperament.”
Zhang Ze, dressed like a skeleton mage NPC, said quietly to Lin Feng.
“When do we Attack?” Lin Feng asked.
“Don’t rush. That Fatty will come over on his own.” Zhang Ze kicked one of the little ghosts beside him that had stepped out of line.
Wang He was much more Cautious, however, because he could not see the Cultivation Levels of these two people. He only felt that a mass of Mist enveloped them.
In Zhang Ze’s Arms, a Wooden Plaque emitted a faint glow, enveloping Zhang Ze and Lin Feng and concealing their true Cultivation Levels.
This was the Treasure Zhang Ze had obtained from Elder Wang last night.
Back when Mr. Wang Buyu traveled the martial world and secretly plotted against people, this plaque had played a Crucial role.
“Which helm are you from, and whose subordinates are you?” Wang He decided to ask clearly.
“Blood Lion Helm, an enforcer under Blood Lion Old Ancestor. Lin Shan.” Lin Feng Casually gave the name of a defeated soul beneath his sword.
He Casually displayed the Waist Token of the Blood Lion Helm.
Wang He offered no evaluation and instead turned to Zhang Ze. “You.”
“Guess.” Zhang Ze stuck out his tongue, licked his lips, and let out a Perverted, eerie laugh.
Zhang Ze knew that he did not possess Lin Feng’s innate Demonic Path Temperament, and he was afraid he would not be able to keep up the act and would suddenly burst out laughing.
Otherwise, he might as well start laughing directly—and make it more Perverted.
Zhang Ze was Perverted enough to make Wang He think of the top experts on the Spirit Snake Flotilla’s ranking of Perverted killers.
“I am Wang He of the Spirit Snake Flotilla.
The Blood Lion Flotilla is seven hundred li from here. What are you two doing here?”
“Just taking a look around,” Lin Feng said indifferently.
“Hee-hee, you Fatty, why do you have so much to say? Anyone who didn’t know better would Thought you were a lackey of the Sword Sect.”
Zhang Ze’s laugh became even more Perverted.
Wang He felt Somewhat cold. This person’s laugh was truly Scary.
He needed to stay far away from him.
“Since you two have nothing to do, then until we meet again. I still have business to attend to.” Wang He cupped his hands and slowly backed away while facing them.
“Come back. You asked us questions, but we haven’t asked you anything yet.” Zhang Ze stomped his bone staff, and the little ghosts beside him began Squeaking and Screaming.
“What is it?”
“Why do you need so much pig blood, Fatty?”
“What does it have to do with you?”
Wang He was irritated. What he hated most was people asking about this matter.
Because whenever his fellow disciples insulted him, they asked the same thing.
Every time Wang He returned to the Spirit Snake Flotilla carrying pig blood, everyone who saw him would look at him and laugh.
Some would even shout, “Wang He, why have you lost weight? Whether Or Not you drew your own blood again.”
He never answered, but he still found it extremely annoying.
To avoid being disturbed by his fellow disciples, he had already been away from the Spirit Snake Flotilla for more than half a month.
He simply had not expected to encounter a madman from the Blood Lion Flotilla here asking the same question.
While continuing to provoke Wang He verbally, Zhang Ze mentally counted the number of Five Ghosts he had summoned.
Excluding the five beside him, there were twenty-five in total. Thirty bomb men was already his limit.
Adding Lin Feng’s Sword Technique—blowing him up first, then stabbing him—taking down this Fatty should be practically guaranteed.
He secretly gave Lin Feng a Gesture to prepare for the Attack.
The first Five Ghost exploded beside Wang He’s leg.
Wang He’s expression suddenly changed drastically. He shouted and flashed away, putting distance between them.
Just as Zhang Ze and Lin Feng Thought the ambush had failed and prepared to launch a forceful attack,
Wang He knelt down.
“Senior, please teach me!”
“Huh?”