The Night Watcher was skilled at assassination, appearing and disappearing without a trace. It was easy to ambush a Wugu Master at the extraordinary stage.

The broken heart was still beating, blood gurgling out. The callous youth didn't die immediately. His brown pupils contracted into golden vertical eyes. His nose collapsed, an air hole appeared, his lips widened to his ears, and his skin turned bluish-black, growing hard bumps.

His whole 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 scarlet heart. The other hand plunged into the hole in his chest, tearing with all its might. The toad-man was ripped in two, as easily as tearing paper.

From the attack to the tearing, the entire process didn't exceed three seconds. Li Zhengde's pupils dilated, and he remained in a daze.

The high-level team leader he revered as a god was easily crushed, killed as easily as squashing an ant.

Li Zhengde then saw the attacker clearly. It was an ordinary-looking youth, the kind of nondescript person who would disappear in a crowd.

Just as Li Zhengde was about to beg for mercy, he heard a "crack," and then saw his own back, saw the corridor behind him.

What, what's wrong with me? The thought flashed through his mind before his consciousness plunged into eternal darkness. Li Zhengde, whose neck was twisted one hundred and eighty degrees, crashed to the ground, incontinent, soaking his crotch, his legs twitching slightly.

Zhang Yuanqing heard the system prompts about gaining prestige points and deducting morality points, but he didn't care. Killing an evil professional or an ordinary person wasn't enough to quell his anger. Kill first, and ask questions later. After killing these evil men, the Security Department would define the case, and he would receive a more substantial morality point reward.

Accumulating abundant morality points would prevent him from becoming a wanted criminal in The Way of the Extraordinary if he accidentally killed civilians in future battles.

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

The embarrassing predicament of Marshal, Chairman, and the club owner were the best proof.

He might not do it, but he had to prepare for accidents.

Black, viscous energy surged in Zhang Yuanqing's eye sockets as he stared at the toad-man's corpse. He summoned the residual spirit within the corpse, and opened his mouth to swallow the writhing spirit, filled with rebellious energy.

Ten seconds later, after digesting the memory fragments left by the spirit, he snapped his fingers, turning into starlight and dissipating.

Far from the green shed dormitory area, beneath an excavator, a group of young men wearing vests and floral shirts surrounded a square table, some standing, some sitting. They were playing poker, laughing when they won, and cursing when they lost.

Besides the playing cards, there were large stacks of paper money on the table. The most conspicuous was a tattooed man, wearing a black shirt and jeans, with a gold chain around his neck, a cigarette in his mouth, squinting at the cards as he sat.

"Garbage cards!" The black shirt man threw away the cards in his hand and spat out the cigarette butt, stomping it out vigorously. The black shirt man's The Way of the Extraordinary ID was "Gambling Saint". Before becoming a The Way of the Extraordinary, he was a gambling addict.

He would bet anything he owned on the gambling table.

Money, his wife and children, even his own life. He enjoyed the thrill of gambling. If he lost, he would willingly send his wife to another man's bed. He pursued the excitement of sudden wealth or utter destitution, believing it to be the greatest charm of gambling. Therefore, he never cheated. Cheating was meaningless. A guaranteed win was neither exciting nor fulfilling.

The thugs in the sand quarry liked to play with him for this reason.

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

The second round began. Gambling Saint lit a cigarette, picked up two cards, and then slowly peeled open the last card.

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

Gambling Saint was about to curse when he heard, "Oh, what garbage cards," from behind.

"Garbage cards!" Gambling Saint echoed, and then thought for a moment, remembering that there was no one behind him.

He suddenly turned his head and saw an ordinary-looking youth standing behind him.

"You..." Gambling Saint's face changed. This man wasn't from the sand quarry, a completely unfamiliar outsider.

He instinctively jumped up, trying to create distance, but the next second, the man's palm was on his head.

"Bang!" His head exploded like a watermelon, brain tissue and bones flying everywhere, splattering all over the table.

The thugs at the table were either holding their cards in a daze, or staring blankly at the headless corpse falling to the ground, stunned for a moment.

They didn't have a chance to react. Ichikawa-mi floated out from behind her master, letting out a banshee-like shriek. The dozen or so men at the table collapsed one after another, dying silently.

Zhang Yuanqing swallowed the Saint's spirit as usual, and then asked, "Ichikawa-mi, will killing ordinary people deduct morality points?"

"Master, the moment you refined me into a vengeful spirit, I lost my morality card. Now I'm your servant, not a The Way of the Extraordinary," Ichikawa-mi said fawningly, pressing against her master's back. "I've always wanted a master to abuse and whip me."

"Work hard and talk less nonsense. I'll spank you tonight," Zhang Yuanqing said coldly.

"Yes~" Ichikawa-mi was excited to hear the promise, striking a seductive pose.

Zhang Yuanqing then walked to the bed and collected the blood-stained money, "The money is confiscated!"

He looked towards the green shed dormitory in the distance, where the male slaves lived. He teleported to the leftmost room, where the air conditioner was blowing cold air.

In the small room, there was a comfortable double bed. A sexy woman on the bed was tilting her head back, moaning softly and seductively.

Her features were delicate and beautiful, 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 a completely forced expression, numbly and mechanically doing the repetitive movements.

A row of naked men knelt beside the bed, their heads lowered, like male concubines waiting for the empress to favor them. Their expressions and eyes held no lust, but rather some fear and nervousness.

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