Chapter 74: The Heavenly Demon Cult Serial Murder Case: A Night of Murder Without a Culprit

The Elders of Joyful Palace had made a mistake.

They had barged in uninvited, only to witness a sight they would rather have never seen.

By the time they left, two of them were completely ruined.

The Law Enforcement Elder had her dantian shattered, reducing her to a decrepit old woman. Like all martial artists who cultivated through demonic arts, her internal energy began to rapidly leak away the moment her core was damaged.

Meanwhile, the Training Elder was left a cripple—both her hands brutally severed.

She had managed to retrieve the severed limbs, but given that they had been crushed off at the wrist like wrung-out rags, there was no way to reattach them.

One of Joyful Palace’s first-rank disciples came to check on her master’s condition.

Upon witnessing the pathetic, mutilated state she was in, the disciple panicked.

And in her panic, she instinctively overpowered her master—draining every last drop of true essence from her shattered core.

Then, the disciple had a thought:

Since she had taken down the Training Elder, wouldn’t that mean she was now qualified to take her place?

But ultimately, she was still too young. Too inexperienced. If she were to rise to the position now, she would only end up as someone else’s stepping stone.

For now, she needed to consolidate her newfound strength.

Meanwhile, a ninth-rank enforcer of the Law Enforcement Hall happened to stumble upon her crippled master as well.

And as luck would have it, she was able to forcibly inherit her master's internal energy.

But the position of Law Enforcement Elder was reserved for the strongest cultivator.

For a mere ninth-rank enforcer to claim that seat? It was far too soon.

So, she too decided to focus on strengthening herself first.

And thus, by the time morning came, two corpses were discovered.

Corpses without a single suspect.

The youngest disciple of the Third Generation, Gyeon Pohee, had a rough life.

Getting pushed around, used as a punching bag, and even the guys she barely managed to seduce got snatched away. She couldn't even remember the last time she got a taste of a man.

Thanks to that, she ended up in the sect doing nothing but housework, improving her chores rather than her martial arts.

Then, one day, a miracle happened.

A new junior disciple was joining.

Finally, she'd be free from all the grunt work!

But her joy didn’t last long.

The newbie was crippled.

Gyeon Pohee hardened her heart.

I waited this long, and the new kid has a bum leg?

Ha. If they thought she'd go easy because of that, they were dead wrong.

It was time to assert dominance as a senior disciple.

With that resolve, Gyeon Pohee kicked open Qing’s door.

She had been on the receiving end of this treatment so many times that, despite being her first time, she pulled it off naturally.

“HEY! You lazy ass! The sun's already up! What the hell are you doing!?”

Qing squinted at the window.

“Huh…? Sun’s not even out yet…”

“What? You’re not getting up?! Are you kidding me!?”

Gyeon Pohee shrieked at a pitch that was hard to ignore.

Qing groggily sat up.

That damn voice was too high to pretend not to hear.

“Who are you?”

“What the hell? Why are you naked!?”

Qing quickly pulled the blanket over herself.

“It’s comfortable…”

“Hurry up and get dressed! You think you can slack off on your first day!?”

“Ah. Then can you step outside for a bit? It’s kinda awkward with someone watching…”

“Are you deaf!? I said you’re late! You wanna starve this morning!?”

“Oh. Breakfast already? This place eats early. Hey, pass me my clothes, would you?”

“You don’t have hands or what!?”

“Well, if we’re being technical… it’s the legs.”

Gyeon Pohee froze.

“…Ahem. Just this once. But don’t think the other senior sisters will be this nice just ‘cause you’re… uh, ‘disabled.’”

Qing watched the girl grumble as she gathered the scattered clothes.

-151.

Is there a single normal person in this damn place?

Even the servants were a bunch of psychos.

But breakfast was important.

Sure, starting the morning with some bloodshed sounded fun, but food came first.

Still wrapped in the blanket, Qing lazily slipped into her clothes.

Then, she confidently lifted her arms.

“Alright, let’s go eat.”

“…What’s with the arms?”

“Well. You gotta carry me, right?”

She was shamelessly demanding to be carried.

At this point, her cripple act was top-tier.

If this were modern times, she'd be one of those actors who got consumed by their roles.

This was the birthplace of the art that deceived two Unrestrained Realm warriors, countless Transcendent masters, and an army of Peak Realm fighters.

Qing categorized people into three genders:

Men. Women. And Villains.

Once their karma score hit triple digits, gender stopped mattering.

Normally, she hated direct physical contact.

Touching another guy’s bare skin? That was an insult to her dignity.

Touching a woman? That was nice, sure, but using her appearance to manipulate people felt disgusting.

But after confirming Gyeon Pohee’s karma score, she wasn’t a woman anymore.

Which meant no hesitation.

“Hah. You… You’re not dumb, right? I mean, you’re not mentally—wait, shit, sorry. The insults just slip out after hearing them all my life. Hey, seriously, are you okay in the head? Do you have any idea how much of a beating you’re asking for?”

“Why?”

Qing tilted her head, giving the most innocent look possible.

That expression.

The ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about’ face.

“…Never mind! We don’t have time! Let’s go already!”

Gyeon Pohee scooped up Qing.

She was taller and heavier than the other senior sisters, but she burrowed into the embrace so naturally that carrying her was surprisingly easy.

At least compared to being used as a human chair by the others.

As Qing was being obediently transported to the dining hall, they ran into Yu Nangrang in the hallway.

The fourth-ranked disciple of the Third Generation, one of the leaders of the Second Generation’s four factions.

Gyeon Pohee immediately shouted,

“SENIOR SISTER! GOOD MORNING! DID YOU SLEEP WELL!?”

“Oh? Yes. And you, junior sister?”

“Yes! Thank you for asking!”

Qing frowned.

Why the hell is she yelling this early?

Is she some kind of low-ranking servant? Should I swap her out for another one?

Qing glanced at another servant.

Their karma score was slightly over 200.

Yeah. A 150 was still better than a 200.

She sighed.

“Hm? Did I just hear a sigh?”

“Ah, no, I—”

“The hell is that? And why are you carrying her like that? Ohhh, this must be the new crippled recruit, huh? Damn, the world’s gotten soft. What, now you get to just chill in a senior sister’s arms like that? And you—how much of a pushover are you to let this happen?”

“I-It’s just that her legs are…”

“Hah! A pair of fucking idiots.”

Yu Nangrang sneered, raising her hand.

“In my opinion, the real idiot is the one who failed to discipline her junior. But don’t worry, I’ll teach you what discipline really means.”

With a vicious grin, she swung her hand.

A slap containing the refined technique of Phantom Twelve Hands, the specialty of the Third Generation disciples, shot toward Gyeon Pohee’s face.

Gyeon Pohee ducked, tucking her head between her shoulders.

But the slap never landed.

A pitch-black hand had grabbed Yu Nangrang’s wrist.

Qing was on her way to breakfast.

She did not appreciate being interrupted.

Qing smiled, pure white.

The first character in the White Hand Demonic Arts was, in fact, ‘white’.

White was often synonymous with evil.

“Hey, you know what you call a person with no hands in one word?”

“…Huh? What the fuck are you—”

“Wrong. That wasn’t the answer. The answer is—‘You.’”

A familiar scene played out.

A severed hand. A scream.

The intoxicating sensation of flesh and bone crushed under her grip.

She had tasted it just yesterday, yet—huh?

Huh…?

Oh. Ohhhh…?

Ah. This feels… so fucking good.

"Ughk."

Qing let out a shuddering breath.

Gyeon Pohee snapped back to reality.

She had momentarily blacked out from the sheer absurdity of what had just happened.

The person in her arms was trembling.

Oh shit. Is this a seizure? Is she convulsing?

What do I do!? Do I take her to the medical hall!?

Wait, but breakfast! I still need my utensils!

Panicked, Gyeon Pohee did the only thing she could think of—she held Qing even tighter.

She vaguely remembered seeing someone do this in the village when a person had a seizure.

Surprisingly, Qing’s shaking subsided.

“H-Hey!? You okay!? Are you back with me!?”

“Huu… Huuu… Huuuuu…”

Qing took deep breaths, trying to steady herself.

Her body still trembled.

Her heart pounded violently.

Since becoming a master, her heart had never raced like this.

Is this… what that ancient soldier felt? The one who sprinted to deliver victory news, only to die laughing at the finish line?

Her heartbeat hammered against her ribcage as if it would explode.

But rather than pain, there was an overwhelming sense of… satisfaction.

That was… amazing.

And strangely… refreshing?

Qing’s eyes shone with an eerie clarity.

The kind of gaze you’d see on an enlightened monk.

Alright. Time to wrap things up.

She glanced at the limp, bloodied figure on the floor.

How utterly pathetic.

Just then—

“Uh, so… um… you know…”

“Hm? What?”

“For the finishing blow. You’re already strong, so maybe… I could… um…?”

Qing looked up at Gyeon Pohee.

She kept stealing glances at the 200+ karma score bastard on the ground.

Ah.

You like killing too, huh?

“You wanna have some fun?”

“Only if you don’t mind…”

“Well, go ahead.”

Qing was thoroughly satisfied.

She had no urge for more bloodshed.

“W-Wait, really!? How much should I leave?”

Leave?

How much was she planning to carve off?

Was she thinking of some methodical, structured butchery?

Was she saving the final blow for Qing?

Intrigued, Qing responded,

“Just finish it all. But can I watch?”

“Oh? Ah… well, that’s a bit embarrassing, but… okay.”

Gyeon Pohee tore a strip of cloth from her robe and began tightly wrapping the mutilated limb.

Oh.

She’s starting with first aid?

Was she some kind of torture expert?

She had a unique approach to this.

Qing might actually learn something today.

Then, Gyeon Pohee dragged the injured woman inside a nearby room, gestured for Qing to follow, and locked the door behind them.

Qing’s eyes gleamed.

Oh?

She’s securing a private room?

Dissection?

Are we about to see a live autopsy?

Qing was pumped.

And then—

Ah.

It was not murder.

Qing had made a very wrong assumption.

Because right in front of her, the scene unfolding was…

A raw, unfiltered demonstration of Collect Yin Supplement Yin.

Qing sat there, dumbfounded.

How the fuck was I supposed to know… oh?

Ohhhh…?

Wait. If you rub that spot there—

Oh my. How scandalous.

Wow.

This was so much more intense than any video she had seen.

Feigning indifference, Qing stared intently at Gyeon Pohee’s ‘finishing move.’

It was a very powerful morning.