Chapter 174 Eradicating Evil

The Night Wanderer excels at assassination, coming and going without a trace. ambushing a transcendent Wu Gu master was effortless.

The mangled heart still beat, blood gurgling out. The cold youth didn't die immediately. His brown pupils contracted into golden vertical slits. His nose collapsed, and an air hole appeared. His lips widened to the ears, his skin turning blue-black, growing hard bumps.

His entire person transformed into a hideous, human-shaped toad.

Gu transformation! He was making a desperate gamble.

But just as he completed the Gu transformation, the palm suddenly clenched, crushing the crimson heart. The other hand plunged into the hole in his chest, and with a mighty tear, the toad-man was ripped in two, as easily as tearing paper.

The entire process, from assault to destruction, took no more than three seconds. Li Zhengde's pupils dilated; he was completely stunned.

The captain, whom he revered as a god, could be crushed so easily, killed as easily as crushing an ant.

Only then did Li Zhengde see the attacker clearly. It was an ordinary-looking young man, the kind who would disappear in a crowd.

Li Zhengde was about to beg for mercy when he heard a "crack." He saw his own back, saw the corridor behind him.

What, what happened to me? The thought flashed through his mind as his consciousness faded into eternal darkness. Li Zhengde, his neck twisted one hundred and eighty degrees, collapsed to the ground with a thud, losing control of his bowels, the mess soaking his crotch. His legs twitched slightly.

Zhang Yuanqing heard the Lingjing notification of his reputation points gained and morality points deducted, but he didn't care. Killing an evil professional, killing an ordinary person, was not enough to quell his anger. Kill first, then deal with it. After killing this kind of villain, the Security Department would investigate and close the case, and he would receive a more substantial reward of morality points.

Accumulating a wealth of morality points would ensure that accidentally killing civilians in future battles wouldn't lead to him becoming a Lingjing wanted criminal.

Although he had always been very, very careful not to harm civilians, as his level increased, his destructive power grew, and it was difficult to guarantee that accidents wouldn't happen.

The awkward predicament of Marshal, the Chairman, and the club owner was the best proof.

He could choose not to do it, but he had to be prepared for accidents.

Black, viscous energy surged in Zhang Yuanqing's eyes as he stared at the toad-man's corpse. He summoned the remnant spirit from the corpse and swallowed the menacing, contorted spirit.

Ten seconds later, after digesting the fragmented memories of the spirit, he snapped his fingers and vanished into starlight.

Far from the green shed dormitory, under a sand-excavating machine, a group of young men wearing vests and floral shirts sat or stood around a square table. They were playing Zha Jin Hua (a type of poker), laughing when they won, cursing when they lost.

Besides the cards, there were large stacks of paper money on the table. The most eye-catching was a tattooed man, wearing a black shirt and jeans, a gold chain around his neck, a cigarette in his mouth, squinting at the cards.

The tattooed man's Lingjing ID was "Gambling Saint." Before becoming a Lingjing Xingzhe, he was a gambling addict.

He would bet anything he owned on the table.

Money, his wife and children, even his own life. He enjoyed the thrill of gambling. Even if he lost and had to send his wife to another man's bed, he would do it willingly. He pursued the stimulation of getting rich overnight or losing everything. He believed this was the greatest charm of gambling. Therefore, he never cheated. Cheating was pointless. A guaranteed win was neither exciting nor fulfilling.

The hoodlums in the sand quarry liked to play with him precisely because of this.

The Gambling Saint was almost out of money, but he didn't care. He lit a cigarette and waited for the next game to begin.

The second game started. The Gambling Saint lit a cigarette, picked up two cards, looked at them, and then slowly peeled open the last card.

The three cards were "2," "6," and "9." Another set of garbage cards!

The Gambling Saint was about to curse when he heard a voice behind him say, "Eh, what garbage cards."

"Garbage cards!" The Gambling Saint echoed, then thought about it and remembered that no one was behind him.

He turned his head sharply and saw an ordinary-looking young man standing behind him at some point.

"You..." The Gambling Saint's expression changed. This man was not from the sand quarry; he was a completely unfamiliar outsider.

He instinctively jumped up, wanting to create distance, but the next second, the man's palm landed on the top of his head.

"Bang!" His head exploded like a watermelon, brain matter and bone fragments splattering everywhere, covering the table.

The hoodlums around the table were either holding their cards, stunned, or staring blankly at the headless corpse falling to the ground. They were all dumbfounded.

They had no chance to react. Yichuan Mei floated out from behind her master, emitting a banshee wail. Thump, thump, thump. The dozen or so people at the table fell to the ground, dead silently.

Zhang Yuanqing routinely swallowed the saint's spirit and then asked, "Yichuan Mei, will killing ordinary people deduct morality points?"

"Master, from the moment you refined me into a vengeful spirit, I lost my status card. Now I am your servant, not a Lingjing Xingzhe," Yichuan Mei said, clinging to her master's back in a fawning manner. "I've always wanted a master who would abuse me, whip me."

"Work hard, less irrelevant talk. I'll whip you to death tonight," Zhang Yuanqing said coldly.

"Yes~" Yichuan Mei received the promise and struck a coquettish pose with excitement.

Zhang Yuanqing walked to the bedside and collected the bloodstained money one by one. "The money is confiscated!"

He looked at the green shed dormitory in the distance where the male slaves lived. With a Star Escape, he arrived at the leftmost room. The air conditioner was blowing cold air.

In the small room, there was a comfortable double bed. On the bed, a sexy woman was arching her head, emitting soft, seductive moans.

Her features were delicate, her figure curvaceous. A young man was under her, and another man was behind her. Compared to the woman's enjoyment, the two men had completely forced expressions, numbly and mechanically doing the repetitive movements.

A row of naked men knelt by the bed, heads lowered, like male concubines waiting for the queen's favor. Their expressions and eyes held no lust, but rather fear and tension.

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