Dao Qi Wu Zang Guan Guan: I became a Daoist Master in the 1990s

Chapter 97: Drawing the Sword, Offering Sacrifice!
"Choke!"

The sword's cry is like a dragon's roar!

A flash of sword light!

There are no fancy tricks, only the simplest, most direct, and most violent killings!
A streak of cold light, like a bolt of lightning, swept horizontally across!
The two men who rushed towards them side by side suddenly froze, and the steel pipes in their hands fell to the ground with a clang.

A thin line of blood appeared on both of their necks at the same time, and then quickly expanded.

Blood gushed out like a flood, and the two heads lay askew on the carpet, their eyes wide with terror and despair.

The sword flashed and swirled! It slashed upwards at an angle!

"puff!"

Another man was cleaved in two by Qi Yun's sword, from his left shoulder to his right rib! Hot blood mixed with shattered internal organs gushed out, filling the air with a stench!

His upper body slid down at an angle, his lower body remained upright for a second before collapsing to the ground with a thud.

Sever arm! Disembowelment! Decapitation!

The sword light flashed and crisscrossed, each flash bringing with it a spray of blood and a sudden, agonizing scream!
Severed limbs and internal organs were scattered everywhere, and scalding blood was splashed on the mahogany furniture, white tile walls, and gilded characters. The strong, nauseating smell of blood instantly filled the huge tea room!

The thugs peeking out from outside the door, though ruthless characters, were now drained of color from their faces and filled with boundless fear upon witnessing this hellish scene.

Someone let out a scream of despair, dropped the machete and iron bar in their hand, and scrambled away to escape!

What loyalty, what a leader? In the face of pure fear of death, they are nothing!

Within a few breaths, the screams and fighting in the tea room completely subsided.

The ground was in mess.

Broken mahogany, overturned furniture, rolled heads, scattered limbs and torsos, and thick blood flowing freely and pooling into puddles.

The overwhelming stench of blood, mixed with the aroma of tea and smoke, created a suffocating smell.

Zhang Biao leaned against the blood-splattered wall, a cigarette that had just been lit dangling from his mouth. His face twitched violently, and his expensive purplish-red Tang suit was soaked with hot tea and blood, leaving it mottled and unrecognizable.

He watched as Qi Yun, carrying the blood-dripping longsword, slowly turned around.

The sword tip fell, and drops of crimson blood trickled down the blade, landing one by one on the scarlet carpet, spreading into an even deeper dark red.

"No...no...impossible!"

Zhang Biao's lips trembled, and his teeth chattered, as if he were in the most terrifying nightmare.

Suddenly remembering something, his obese body burst forth with astonishing speed as he lunged at the overturned tea tray, frantically pulling open a drawer that hadn't been smashed!

He pulled out a heavy, black Type 54 pistol!
The cold, metallic touch restored a sliver of his twisted courage.

"Stop right there! Stop right there!"

He roared hoarsely, his voice distorted by extreme fear. He quickly released the safety, cocked the gun, gripped the handle tightly with both hands, his index finger on the trigger, and aimed the gun at Qi Yun, who was approaching step by step, with a violent tremor.

"Fuck your mother! Martial arts? I don't believe it! No matter how fast your sword is, it can't be faster than my spear!"
Move again! I'll blow your head off!

Qi Yun didn't stop walking. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, looking at the dark muzzle of the gun. The cold, sharp curve of his lips rose again, carrying a hint of mocking calm.

"Here we go again. How about we give it a try this time?"

"Try your mother! You think you can scare me?" Zhang Biao was completely enraged by this contempt. His fear turned into hysterical madness. His eyes were bloodshot as he roared, "I'll send you to see the King of Hell!"

He instantly channeled all his strength into his index finger as he pulled the trigger!
In the split second before the trigger was pulled completely.

"Buzz!"

Without warning, the hard marble floor tiles beneath Qi Yun's feet shattered!

Spider-web-like cracks spread instantly!

A silver streak, almost invisible to the naked eye, burst forth from beneath his feet!

His body left a solid, lifelike afterimage in place!

"boom!"

A deafening gunshot rang out in the enclosed tea room!
The scorching brass bullet tore through the air and pierced the forehead of the afterimage without any hindrance!
In the gap where the smoke and fire had not yet fully spread, a sword light, faster than lightning and more profound than the cold moon, suddenly shone silently in the murky air!
Time, at this moment, is gripped tightly by an invisible hand, stretched out, and frozen.

The scorching bullet, accompanied by a deathly shriek, tore through the airflow, spinning rapidly, and pierced through the already vanished afterimage.

And that pure, white sword arc, as gentle as a lover's whisper, kissed the throbbing veins and warm flesh on Zhang Biao's short, thick neck.

The frozen madness and ferocity on Zhang Biao's face, along with the twisted pleasure he felt when he pulled the trigger, instantly froze.

His bulging eyes stared intently at the empty space ahead, his pupils filled with unbelievable astonishment.

Why did the person who was pierced by a bullet stand up?
What was that deadly, bone-chilling coldness on my neck?
"laugh!"

A barely audible tearing sound.

Then, time resumed its flow.

A violent column of blood, like a suppressed spring bursting through the rock, gushed skyward from the severed neck, carrying the last heat and despair of life!

The enormous, round head, covered in shavings, was lifted in an arc by the crimson fountain.

Boom!
The dull thud shook the deathly silence.

His head slammed heavily against the sharp edge of the overturned mahogany tea tray, landing squarely on the side. Several blood-stained shards of porcelain and a stack of hundred-yuan bills soaked in blood and stuck together were jolted and scattered by the impact.

His head rolled half a circle, his face, covered in sticky blood, facing directly at the huge, exquisitely framed gilded characters on the wall.

"Harmony brings wealth."

Fresh, scalding blood, like cinnabar, was splashed freely, covering the golden light.

The scarlet hue dripped down the smooth mounting surface, greedily devouring every stroke, and finally completely submerging the character "财" (wealth).

Qi Yun flicked his wrist, and the sword blade emitted a clear, low hum, like a dragon returning to its sheath.

His gaze was calm and still, never lingering on the scene of carnage, but fixed on the blood-stained, dust-covered walls, where he murmured:
"May the Heavenly Venerable grant boundless blessings."

Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, you are all burdened by heavy sins, sinking into the sea of ​​suffering. Today, I, this humble Taoist, will use swift and merciful means to send you... to rebirth in the Pure Land.

As soon as he finished speaking, the chilling, tangible killing intent around him vanished instantly, disappearing without a trace, like the receding tide.

He lowered his head slightly, his hands forming a mudra, and a deep and melodious scripture of rebirth flowed from his lips. Each word was clear, carrying a transcendent and compassionate quality that transcended life and death, lingering and echoing in the blood-soaked tea room.

PS: Chapter 95 has been approved and will be released later!
(End of this chapter)