Ruthless Killing (Second Update)

Walking out of the back kitchen, Zhao Ke looked at the offering he had traded for and could not help shaking his head. This thing was of no use to him at all. If he had known this was the reward, he should have given up on the mission.

After all, the kitchen was unlike other places. The information he could gather there was extremely limited. If Zhao Ke had been given a choice, he would rather have chosen to clean.

Zhao Ke casually tossed the ghost money in his hand into the Post Album. When he turned and looked into the small courtyard, he saw three more people huddled together, whispering about something.

These three were not from the previous group. Clearly, they were another group of postmen who had temporarily teamed up.

The moment they noticed Zhao Ke entering the courtyard, three pairs of eyes immediately fixed on him. In truth, some of the postmen had already noticed Zhao Ke when he fell into the water and climbed aboard the little boat.

When they saw Zhao Ke brazenly grilling meat at the bow, they knew he was probably a newcomer who had passed the probationary period.

They were all low-level postmen, but even low-level postmen were divided into ranks. Probationary missions were generally very simple, but once the probationary period ended, they would immediately enter regular horror spaces, whose difficulty was far greater.

Many people who had just become low-level postmen died there. The death rate was even higher than in some more difficult missions.

Moreover, the horror space during the probationary period had simple missions and pitifully little profit. Most only earned a few Post Points, not even enough to exchange for a low-grade special stamp.

Teammates without awareness or strength were obviously unwelcome anywhere.

Thus, when Zhao Ke entered, the three people's gazes were far from friendly, though they were not much better than those of the previous group.

"Master, why were you gone for so long?"

Seeing Zhao Ke return, Cui Lan sat up from the bedside. Looking at the gray light outside, she said softly, "How annoying. It's already daylight. Steward Bai will probably come by soon. Who knows what trouble he will stir up this time."

Zhao Ke ignored Cui Lan's grumbling from the bed. After estimating the time, he quietly stuffed a mouthful of paper ash into his mouth to conceal his aura.

At the same time, his mind raced. Whether it was food, water, or fire, living people like them were utterly out of place here. Even their body temperatures were clearly different from those here. They had far too many obvious flaws.

Zhao Ke did not believe that merely concealing their scent could perfectly hide the fact that they were alive.

It was manageable when facing these spirit mediums, but against ghosts like those flower children, one careless mistake could expose them.

But at the same time, wasn't that also their advantage? Zhao Ke narrowed his eyes and turned back to Cui Lan. "Cui Lan, how do you tell which ones are spirit mediums and which ones aren't?"

Cui Lan laughed at that. She walked over, hooked one arm through Zhao Ke's, and said, "Hehe, Master, did that bump to your head make you forget even this?"

As she spoke, Cui Lan raised Zhao Ke's arm and rolled up his sleeve. "Most people in the Bai Family are spirit mediums. There are only a few who truly belong to ghost masters. Besides, the name of our master is written on our arms. You..."

Cui Lan stopped halfway through her sentence, her eyes suddenly widening. Zhao Ke's smooth, well-shaped arm was completely bare. There was nothing on it.

Cui Lan froze at first, then suddenly understood something. She looked up and stared at Zhao Ke. "You!"

"That's right. I'm not your master."

Zhao Ke, who had been sitting in the chair, raised his brow. He suddenly sprang up, driving a dagger straight into Cui Lan's forehead.

Pfft!

The blade pierced straight through Cui Lan's forehead. Zhao Ke twisted it hard, splitting open a bowl-sized hole in her head, like a cauliflower cracked apart.

Yet strangely, Cui Lan did not die. After a brief stunned pause, her expression changed, and she reached for Zhao Ke's throat.

The delicate features on Cui Lan's warped face had twisted into a mess. But unlike the paper figures Zhao Ke had killed before, Cui Lan's blossomed head was truly a bloody pulp.

They were spirit mediums. Once they crossed the gates of hell and entered the underworld, they possessed half a physical body.

But it was merely flesh. There were no bones, no human brain, no organs—just a mass of bloody meat.

"Still not dead!"

Seeing Cui Lan reach for his throat, Zhao Ke raised his brow. He flicked the black dagger in his hand with lightning speed, stabbing up beneath Cui Lan's arm and through her throat before twisting the blade.

Pfft!

Like serrated teeth, the icy blade ripped open half of Cui Lan's neck. Her head tilted to one side, dangling against her chest.

After suffering repeated devastating blows from Zhao Ke, Cui Lan could no longer cry out. She could only turn and run.

"You think you can escape!"

Seeing Cui Lan trying to flee, a flash of viciousness crossed Zhao Ke's face. He lunged forward in a single stride and drove the dagger into her spine, twisting it hard. The strike should have either killed her or paralyzed her, but the blade found no bone.

Instead, Cui Lan toppled headfirst to the ground. Her split-open face twisted, her mouth crooked. Unable to make a sound, she could only wave a hand at Zhao Ke, begging for mercy.

They said a day's marriage brought a hundred days of grace. Now, she only begged Zhao Ke to spare her. After all, spirit mediums had it hardest in this world. They were born destined to die; the living world could not contain them, and only after reaching the underworld could they be considered alive.

All they sought in life was to find a good master, serve peacefully for several hundred years, and finally cultivate themselves into a human womb. That alone would mean their lives had not been wasted.

Cui Lan had planned everything so well. Yet she had never expected that her career as a spirit medium would end after only one night.

"Sorry, but I can't keep you alive!"

Faced with Cui Lan's plea, Zhao Ke did not hesitate in the slightest. He knew that keeping Cui Lan was the same as keeping a powder keg.

Whether she could still speak or whatever promises she made, Zhao Ke would not believe her. He never entrusted his life to someone else's mouth.

Splat!

Zhao Ke swept out his blade and severed Cui Lan's head. Without her head, Cui Lan's body lay on the ground twitching, but she did not die.

There was no blood and no internal organs. Losing her head merely meant losing control of her body.

Holding Cui Lan's head in his hands, Zhao Ke went to the corner of the room, found an iron basin, and stuffed her head directly inside. To his surprise, once her head was inside the basin, Cui Lan's body stopped moving as well.

When he took Cui Lan's head back out, the body in the distance immediately began twitching again, seeming to struggle under Cui Lan's control as it tried to crawl away.

Seeing this, Zhao Ke shoved Cui Lan's head back into the iron basin, then tried to convert the basin into the Post Album.

But the response remained the same: insufficient permissions, unable to convert.

He then tried Cui Lan's body. It seemed that after losing Cui Lan's control, the body had become a dead object. With a thought from Zhao Ke, the corpse was immediately converted into the Post Album.

Opening the Post Album, he saw an additional stamp depicting a paper figure, except the paper figure had no head.

"So that's how it is."

Zhao Ke nodded, shoved the iron basin beneath the bed, dusted off his hands, and strode out of the room.

Just as Cui Lan had said, the moment Zhao Ke left the room, he saw the Bai Family steward approaching with several others to begin assigning work.

Zhao Ke hid among the crowd and glanced sideways. Dongzi and the other three stood in the crowd with cold faces, their expressions ugly. Apparently, their trip to the front courtyard had gotten them nowhere but a face full of ashes.

"You lot, wash clothes. You lot, chop firewood in the woodshed. You few, clean the front courtyard."

When they heard the steward assigning their group to clean the front courtyard, Dongzi and the other three looked as if they had been coated in frost, their faces unbearably grim.

Meanwhile, the postmen from the other group of three had been assigned to the woodshed. They exchanged glances, satisfied smiles appearing on their faces.

"And you... Huh? Why is one missing? Where's that woman?"

The steward pointed at Zhao Ke and asked about Cui Lan's whereabouts. Zhao Ke put on a bitter expression and said with distress, "I don't know. I went to the back kitchen last night, and when I came back, she was gone."

The steward froze. Then anger appeared on his pale face. Without asking further about Cui Lan, he stormed up to Zhao Ke and roared, "Who told you to go to the back kitchen? That's not a place you can go!"

"But... I have no choice but to go now."

Before the steward could flare up, Zhao Ke raised a hand. The token the old man had given him appeared in his palm.

The buildup needs to be slower, so the chapter may seem a little padded. I'm going to write the third update now.