Yellow Wind Monster narrowed his eyes, then suddenly opened them wide. “You came here on purpose to be captured?”
“Obviously.”
As those two words left his mouth, Fang Zhiyi’s hand, holding the Tiger Vanguard, suddenly tightened. A sharp crack echoed through the ears of every demon. The tiger demon froze for a moment, then howled in agony.
The monk had used some kind of sorcery—just one move, and the bones in his arm were shattered into pieces.
Fang Zhiyi slowly stood up, stripped off the clothes he had just put back on, and tied his kasaya around his waist.
“Remember this for your next life: don’t ever capture a monk with tattoos.”
“Quit your tricks! Attack!” Yellow Wind Monster bellowed. The lesser demons swarmed forward, their eyes burning red.
In their view, this was at most a monk with a bit more strength. No matter how fierce, he was still just a human.
Just days ago, their king had said a Bodhisattva had delivered a divine decree: anyone who stopped the scripture-seeking pilgrim would attain the Great Way.
Which demon wouldn’t want the Great Way?
Watching the monk buried among the rat demons, Yellow Wind Monster’s eyes flickered with red light. He had once been a yellow weasel at the foot of Mount Spirit-Holy, fleeing after stealing lamp oil from the glazed lantern. The Vajra warriors had hunted him, forcing him to carve out a kingdom here.
Over the years, he had grown powerful, yet he still dreamt of the terror of being chased by the Vajra. He knew his place—just a demon, separated from the immortals and Buddhas by an ocean of power.
Now, if he could gain the Great Way, who would refuse?
As for the Bodhisattva… he only said to stop the pilgrim, never forbade killing him. What wasn’t forbidden was permitted.
In a daze, Yellow Wind Monster imagined returning to Mount Spirit-Holy, dressed in a monk’s robe, glowing with golden light—just like the Vajra and Arhats.
Then a spray of blood mist exploded before his eyes, snapping him back to reality.
He blinked, unable to believe what he saw.
That bare-shouldered monk was carving a path of blood with nothing but his bare hands!
Right then, Fang Zhiyi had a tiny demon by the throat, punching its face again and again with dull, thudding strikes.
With a crunching sound, the rat demon’s head burst open.
“You damned monk!” The Tiger Vanguard, having swallowed his pain, now burned with fury. That one-handed monk had crippled his arm! He roared and charged forward.
But the monk just glanced back at him. A blur—and Fang Zhiyi vanished into thin air.
The next instant, Tiger Vanguard felt its scalp hair seized. Before it could react, a tremendous force yanked its head downward.
Wham! The tiger demon’s head smashed into a broken Buddha statue, shattering the remaining stone.
Fang Zhiyi didn’t stop. He grabbed the tiger’s head again and slammed it down once more.
The noise terrifyied the surviving demons into stillness. The dilapidated temple had become a slaughterhouse. Demonic corpses lay scattered, none intact. Blood splattered the walls, reeking worse than before.
Only Yellow Wind Monster sensed the danger. He always could, had a knack for survival—which was why he was still alive.
He summoned a gale and fled toward the exit.
But before he reached the door, a staff pressed against his throat.
The monkey with the hairy face and thunderous mouth leaned in to peer inside, his expression flat.
“We still have an unsettled score between us.”
“Monkey! You court death!” Yellow Wind Monster snarled. He valued his life, but he wasn’t some pushover!
That monk was vicious enough, but this monkey dared block his path?
A ferocious wind whipped up, rattling the door itself.
Sun Wukong frowned. “That trick again?”
“Hahaha! This is the Divine Wind of Three Evils! Monkey! I know your origins—even you can’t withstand it!” Yellow Wind Monster laughed wildly. His form grew ethereal as he melted into the gale.
“No one can kill me! No one!”
But what stunned Yellow Wind Monster was that Sun Wukong just stood there, making no move to stop him.
The demon grew cocky. He had earned his name through the Divine Wind of Three Evils; it was how he ruled this land. Now, if he could just—
Yellow Wind Monster froze. He looked down and saw the blood-soaked monk walk out, holding the enormous tiger head in one hand, as if he hadn’t even noticed the wind.
Impossible! The Divine Wind of Three Evils could shred flesh, break bones, strip sinew! How was this monk…
Then he glimpsed it: a faint golden light glinting around the monk, deflected the wind away as soon as it touched that glow.
Yellow Wind Monster’s daze deepened. He recalled something—he knew! He should have seen it from the start! As a rat, he had spent enough time at Mount Spirit-Holy to recognize it…
“You… you… you are…”
But Fang Zhiyi didn’t let him finish. He leaped high into the air, then reached out a hand as if picking something from a high shelf—slow, deliberate.
The Yellow Wind Monster watched that hand closing in. He wanted to dodge, but couldn’t. No matter how he shifted through the gale, the hand tracked him relentlessly.
Finally, fingers like iron clamps seized his throat. Fang Zhiyi pulled him—body and all—out from the whirlwind.
“You’re nothing but a rat.”
The demon stared in terror at the face before him, like a god of slaughter. In that moment, all will to fight died.
Impossible, the scripture-seeker…
“Yellow weasel, you fled Mount Spirit-Holy to wreak havoc. Now you face justice. Come back with me…”
Sun Wukong turned his head, his eyes showing no surprise. Out from the temple—a hellish scene—walked a Bodhisattva, kind-browed, with jewel ruyi tuft between his brows.
He looked neither at Fang Zhiyi nor at Sun Wukong, but calmly at the yellow weasel trapped in the monk’s grip.
The Bodhisattva extended a hand—meaning only one thing: hand over the rat.
“Three hundred and seventy-five lives destroyed. He deserves death.”
Ghost Tripitaka’s flat, slow voice broke the silence.
Fang Zhiyi acted instantly. The hand clutching Yellow Wind Monster suddenly tightened. Blood burst from the demon’s mouth and nose. He died on the spot.
Bodhisattva Lingji paused briefly, but didn’t seem as furious as expected. Instead, he gave Fang Zhiyi a curious glance, then looked at Sun Wukong, and finally at that ghost monk.
“How virtuous…” Bodhisattva Lingji stared at Ghost Tripitaka for a long time. “So this is it. Since you have decided, I will not waste my efforts any longer.” With that, he pressed his palms together toward Fang Zhiyi’s group, and his body gradually transformed back into the same mud Buddha statue that had once filled the temple.
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
with countless casualties. As a top-tier gamer, Liu Xuan volunteered to join the fight, intending to dominate with his skills, but instead he obtained the hidden class: [Pacifist]. Unable to attack. Unable to use active skills. Fortunately, with each level gained, he acquired a new passive skill. And so, armed with a body full of passives, Liu Xuan slaughtered his way through the battlefield of ten thousand races! [You attacked Liu Xuan] [You gained the debuffs: 'Poison', 'Fear', 'Burning', 'Bleeding', 'Freeze', 'Silence', etc.] [Your attack speed has been reduced by 99%] [Your armor and magic resistance have been reduced by 99%] Warriors of the Ten Thousand Races: How the hell am I supposed to fight this?!
ut it can buy an entire year of absolutely perfect training results! Su Yu stared at his empty wallet and decisively opened up various online loan platforms. “Borrow a thousand bucks! Recharge my vitality!” Boom! His vitality broke a hundred points, shattering the limits of the human body! “Borrow ten thousand bucks! Recharge my combat skills!” Boom! A basic punching technique so common it was everywhere instantly maxed out, revealing the ultimate assassination technique of Five Elements Unity—Inner Force! When a rich kid hired assassins for a midnight ambush, aiming to break both of his legs, they instead ran headfirst into a monster—a human-shaped tyrannosaur, brimming with dragon-like vitality. With just two fingers, Su Yu snapped a steel staff reinforced with alloy. Staring at the killer’s stash of stolen cash—a staggering quarter-million dollars—he showed a corporate-sincere smile: “Thanks for the pre-exam gift pack, Mr. Zhao! I’m gonna go re-invest this!” Three days later, at the National Martial Arts College Entrance Exam, while everyone else struggled just to reach the passing line, Su Yu threw a single punch—and more than a thousand vitality points literally detonated the entire arena!
young master of the Shen family—a figure of immense power and wealth beyond measure—and awakened the "Destined Ultimate Villain System"! His starting scenario? Running into his icy fiancée who shows up with a mountain-descending divine doctor to break off their engagement. The divine doctor arrogantly taunts: "What does your Shen family have besides a bit of stinking money? You're not even worthy of tying Qingxue's shoelaces!" Shen Fei just smiled. He completely defied the usual script: "Fine, I agree to break off the engagement. Also, notify the finance department to withdraw all investments from the Su family." Minutes later, with its capital chain severed, the Su Group teetered on the brink of bankruptcy! The once aloof and proud ice queen CEO was thrown into utter panic. That very night, she went to Shen Fei's villa, casting aside all dignity to beg and plead desperately... From then on, in this world teeming with Sons of Destiny, Shen Fei embarked on a path of extreme dimensional suppression! A mountain-descending divine doctor? Peerless medical skills? Shen Fei: "Reporting you for practicing medicine without a license! I'll gladly take your ancient medicinal cauldron and twin sister assassins." The Crooked-Smiling Dragon King? Commanding a hundred thousand soldiers with a single order? Shen Fei: "Illegal assembly and suspected treason! Let a fleet of attack helicopters sanitize the area and teach you what the state apparatus really means!" A reborn tycoon? Knows all the golden opportunities of the next decade? Shen Fei: "A trillion in capital to reverse and pump the stock market, making you blow your margin and jump on the very first day of your rebirth!" What Chosen Ones? What bearers of Heavenly Fortune? In Shen Fei's eyes, they're all just chives (i.e., suckers/marks) waiting to be harvested! Shen Fei: "Sorry, but as the Destined Ultimate Villain, I don't play by the rules of honor. I only play the game of dimensional suppression."
