Crack! Crack!
The Sky Patrol Magic Treasures in the sky rotated, parts of their bodies beginning to vanish from sight.
Seeing this, the ghost god immediately understood what the big shots meant.
He hurriedly severed a finger, turning it into a black-robed cultivator who rode away on a howling black cloud.
This black-robed ghost god dared not seek out Orthodox Cultivators, searching only the mountains and wilderness for New-Method Cultivators.
In barely a dozen breaths, he discovered a nest of wild New-Method Cultivators in the mountains.
His heart filled with delight. "Thank you for nature's bounty."
He deployed his methods, descended from the sky, and harvested golden cores.
The Golden Core Ancestors were training disciples, refining Foundation Establishment Pills, or crafting magic implements.
Now the black-robed ghost god descended, knocked them down with three or five thumping punches, then pinned their arms beneath his feet, tore away their chest coverings, and spat a mouthful of Underworld cold water onto them.
"Hold on a moment, you leeks. I'm very quick."
The Golden Core Ancestors were bewildered. "What's going on? What are you doing?"
But before they could recover, they saw their chests sliced open and the golden cores inside their bodies pulled out.
The black-robed ghost god even thoughtfully plucked out hair to stitch their wounds shut.
"See? I'm very fast!"
"Didn't hurt, did it?"
The Golden Core Ancestors were bewildered. "What the fuck did you do to us?"
The black-robed ghost god grinned, tucked away the golden cores, and turned to leave.
Only after he left did the Golden Core Ancestors feel the emptiness in their chests and bellies.
They felt around, their faces pale.
One Golden Core Ancestor screamed, "Where the hell did my great big golden core go?"
Slap!
Another ancestor clapped a hand over his mouth and