"No, this monk had no choice. Do you see the Demonic Blade beside me? Though it helps me raise my cultivation, it also corrodes the mind, turning people bloodthirsty and violent until they lose all reason."
Lin Fan was startled. "Master, if it's that dangerous, why do you still use it? Why not give the Demonic Blade to me?"
"Hm?"
The Demon Monk seemed not to have expected the young man before him to be so bold. Not only did he show no fear in the face of death, he even chatted and joked with him—and asked outright for his demonic treasure.
The Demon Monk paused, then let out a low chuckle.
"Since you wish to know, this monk will tell you before you die." He spoke slowly, as calmly as if discussing the weather. "Whenever this monk finishes using the Demonic Blade, I recite Buddhist Scriptures and purify myself with Buddhist Dharma to resist its corrosion. That is why I have retained my reason until now."
Then his tone shifted. His gaze settled on Lin Fan, appraising and dismissive. "As for giving it to you... You have remarkable courage, young man, but your mastery of Buddhist Dharma is not deep enough. You cannot control this Demonic Blade. If I gave it to you, within days you would become a fiend who knew only slaughter. By then, even when facing your family and friends, all you would think of would be killing them."
Lin Fan felt he had learned something.
So Buddhist Dharma could be used like that. He really had found a creative way to use it.
Lin Fan tilted his head slightly and thought for a moment.
Then he asked, "Master, have you killed anyone from the authorities recently? Or have any officials been hunting you?"
The Demon