Taoist priest goes to America

Ang Lee had already started planning the route: to the East Side of Brooklyn, where there are many gangs and densely packed hideouts, and it's not uncommon for people to be killed on the streets in the early hours of the morning; no passerby would give it a second glance.

Moreover, killing gangsters doesn't require him to worry about the consequences or his own psychological burden. Gangsters, drug dealers, human traffickers—New York City has no shortage of such people; the city's underground is filled with all sorts of scum.

He wasn't afraid that killing these people would attract investigations from the police and other gangs. He had already offended three major forces: the Skullfinger gang, the Ishers and the military and political family behind them, and the Walter Pharmaceuticals. He wasn't worried about having too much debt; he wasn't bothered by too many problems.

Ang Lee could even set off tonight, find a few small gathering spots to test the waters, kill a few people there, collect the bodies, contact Nigel to clean up the mess, and then make a nice escape with the money.

Even if they can't sell them, Li An won't waste his efforts; he can directly feed them to Lao Bai and the others as food to level up.

I just don't know if Nigel will get annoyed by my frequent corpse selling.

Ang Lee could also take this opportunity to practice the skills he obtained from Chigurh, namely [Mental Burst] and [Flesh and Blood Split], using a human body.

Li An only used [Flesh Split] once, because [Flesh Split] would consume the flesh and blood of his corpse servants, and it would be too wasteful to practice it casually.

But you need to know their limits, and you need to be familiar with what it feels like to use them. You need to preview those feelings in advance and practice them a few more times, so that you don't find yourself unfamiliar with them when you actually need to use them.

So the gangsters who do bad things tonight are his best practice subjects: mortal bodies, capable of resistance and escape, and of course, the best part is that they get paid. It's not a losing proposition at all; it's killing two birds with one stone.

Of course, there was one more thing. Ang Lee thought of the body bag, the one he used yesterday to hold Ren Jianhua's father's body. It was made of active material created by the "Flesh and Blood Splitting." A bag made of flesh and blood wouldn't maintain its shape like a plastic bag; it should have already started to melt.

Ang Lee strode into the living room, where a dark red mass lay, no longer formed, slowly shrinking and dissolving, like a piece of butter slowly melting, with a very thin layer of transparent liquid seeping from its surface and dripping down.

He reached out and picked up the whole bag. When he held it in his hand, he could feel it slightly contracting and then expanding, as if it were a living thing breathing slowly.

Looking at the bag, Ang Lee suddenly had a brilliant idea.

"Thump—" Li An threw it into the kitchen trash can, then glanced down at the string of puppets at his waist. Four puppets were arranged in a string.

He reached out and touched the top of the old white puppet, his fingers brushing against its surface, his spiritual energy seeping in.

As Li An channeled his spiritual energy, he opened the French windows and stepped onto the balcony. The night breeze blew in, causing the curtains to billow and then fall back down.

Li An looked down at the string of wooden puppets around his waist. He felt the temperature on Lao Bai's surface rise slightly, followed by a soft, octopus-like sensation, as if something was crawling out from inside the puppets.

It was a layer of dark red flesh that first covered his fingers, then wrapped around Li An's wrist and arm.

The dark red flesh fibers, like wriggling tentacles, climbed up Li An's arm, clung to his body, spread down his torso, wrapped around his waist and legs, and fell naturally down his crotch to form the hem of his robe.

Dark red flesh fibers clung to Ang Lee's suit, neither too tight nor too loose, like a tailor-made robe.

A hood grew out from the back of his neck, covering his head, and the brim extended forward, forming a dark red veil in front of Ang Lee's face.

The veil was very thin; from his perspective, it looked like looking through a very thin layer of red glass, with high clarity. However, from the outside, the dark red veil obscured Ang Lee's face.

Li An raised his hand, and the dark red skin covered his fingers, which turned outwards at the fingertips into five slender claws that gleamed with a dark red metallic luster under the moonlight, like a hard shell formed after some kind of red metal was smelted.

With a thought, the dark red surface covering his fingertips contracted inward, the claw blades disappeared, and retreated along his fingers back to the pads of his fingers.

Then the skin on the inside of his wrist bulged outwards, as if something was being pushed out from under the skin. A hidden blade emerged from above his wrist, stabbing outwards along his palm with the tip pointing forward.

Ang Lee tried again, and the hidden blade was sheathed. Then he rotated his wrist, focusing his attention on the outside of his forearm.

The dark red flesh on the outside of the forearm began to bulge, then stretched outwards, forming a crescent-shaped blade.

The crescent-shaped blade begins to grow from the middle of the forearm, extending all the way to the elbow, with the blade facing outwards, gradually thinning and sharpening, resembling a rising crescent moon emerging from the side of the arm.

Li An flipped his wrist, and the crescent-shaped blade followed his movement, slicing a blood-red reflection in the moonlight.

He bent his arm, and the blade on his arm retracted completely as Li An bent his arm.

Li An looked at his palm, and a thin, dark red substance suddenly emerged from it, stretching, hardening, and thinning to form a whip over two meters long, with one end attached to his palm and the other end hanging down to the ground.

Li An flicked his wrist, and the long whip sprang up from the ground, drawing an arc in the air before whirling towards the vase by the window.

The whip wrapped around the neck of the vase, and with just a slight inward curl of its dark red blade, the vase cracked and then exploded with a bang.

After the whip shattered the vase, it automatically retracted into Li An's hand, like a snake slithering back to its lair.

Li An glanced down at the black and red robe he was wearing. The surface of the robe had a fine, capillary-like pattern that pulsated slightly in the moonlight, like arteries.

He turned to look at the tree outside the window. Its canopy shimmered with a silvery-white luster in the moonlight, and the thickest branch was about three or four meters away from the windowsill.

Ang Lee's fingers twitched slightly, and the long whip reappeared from his palm, stretching out in the air and precisely wrapping around the tree branch.

Li An gripped the whip tightly, feeling the weight the branch was supporting.

Then he took a step forward, stepped onto the windowsill, and swung his body out of the window.

A night breeze stirred around him, causing the brim of his hat to sway gently in front of his eyes, and the hem of his robe to flutter upwards.

Ang Lee's body traced an arc in the air, swinging from the height of the third floor down to the ground below the tree, his feet scraping against the ground with a screeching sound.

Ang Lee bent over to steady himself and finally brought the car to a stop. He released the whip, which automatically retracted into his robe.

The moonlight shone on the greenery of the residential area, and there was no one around. The night breeze blew from the lake, carrying the scent of earth and the dampness of the lake water.

Ang Lee lashed out with his whip again, which wrapped around the drainpipe of the building opposite, pulling his body across the alley between the two buildings.

He landed beside a streetlamp outside the residential area. He paused, looked up to observe his surroundings, and then continued cracking his whip, weaving through the buildings.