I walked over and placed the bag next to Meng Liuchuan.
Meng Liuchuan’s hands trembled as he kept muttering, “Ancestors, ancestors, ancestors, you can rest in peace now…” He refused to let anyone else touch the bag, insisting on witnessing the miracle that had been awaited for centuries with his own eyes.
I slowly pulled back the gauze, waiting for Meng Liuchuan to reach inside the bag for the book.
Meng Liuchuan actually stuck his hand in, only to suddenly feel a chill run down his spine. The slippery, sticky sensation made his face twist like a shriveled chrysanthemum. “Why is there so much junk inside? Where’s the book?”
His eyes instantly burned with rage, especially when he pulled his hand out of the snake-skin bag—dangling from it were eight centipedes, three small snakes, 137 black ants, and 113 white ants, totaling 250 ants. He screamed, “Bakayarou!”
“Damn it, I hate that word the most! Your whole family is full of idiots!” I shouted.
“Bite him to death! Bite his junk, bite his nipples!” I yelled. The ants, centipedes, and snakes that had crawled out of the bag all rushed forward. Meng Liuchuan shrieked, “You teamed up with an insect master?! Is it the Guo family from Hedong? Ah—!” He let out a pained cry, likely because a centipede had bitten his little brother.
“The Guo family? Never heard of them. Could they be a century-old insect master clan?”
By then, I had already removed the gauze, revealing the fire axe. The ugly ghost Kameda seemed to sense danger and crawled toward me to protect its master.
I roared, “Do you remember the bloodstained sword that chopped off your head on Dalong Mountain, and the swordsman who wielded it? Today, I’ll sever your ghostly head again!”
Terror flashed in Kameda’s eyes as he turned and fled into the room. Originally, his head had been severed in life, but the Abe family’s onmyoji had retrieved it and reattached a ghostly head. Now, faced with the chilling axe, he was scared out of his wits. Two ninjas leaped around, trying to jump onto the ceiling fan, quickly closing in.
Without hesitation, I swung the axe high. In Kameda’s eyes, it seemed as though he saw the man from Dalong Mountain years ago, drenched in blood, gripping that same sword…
The axe came down, slicing Kameda’s head clean off with a gust of wind. His ghostly body lunged forward, black ooze gushing from his neck. I kicked it away before it even hit the ground, sending it crashing into the wall. The white wall instantly turned black. The three exhausted women, just waking up, saw the darkened wall and fainted again from fright.
“Ancestors, I’ve finally put an end to this bastard.”
Meng Liuchuan was now covered head to toe in ants and centipedes, becoming food for the white worms.
Staggering, he stumbled into the bathroom and turned on the faucet.
I swung the axe as I walked, shouting, “Come at me if you’re not afraid to die! Screw your ninja crap, your shuriken are trash!”
I quickly retreated toward the door, but a flying dagger shot toward me, piercing my arm with a *thunk*. Blood dripped down as I gritted my teeth and reached the door. When I turned to open it, I found it locked—they had set up a barrier.
Meng Liuchuan emerged looking like a drowned rat, his face bitten into a lunar landscape by centipedes and ants. His little brother probably hadn’t escaped either. He barked, “Scatter!” The two ninjas perched on the chandelier, daggers clenched in their teeth, remained motionless.
Meng Liuchuan muttered strange incantations. From the walls crawled two, three, four… hideous black ghosts wearing yellow military caps and old Japanese uniforms, their mouths gaping, oozing black filth, reeking of foul sweat, their thick fur crawling with ghost lice… They weren’t big but loved hopping around, baring rows of tiny, saw-like teeth…
I cursed, “Aren’t you onmyoji supposed to *exorcise* ghosts? Why are you playing with them?”
Meng Liuchuan’s eyes were swollen from ant bites, his lips puffed up. As I spoke, the bastard’s own hands sprouted long nails—seemed the old man had turned himself into a ghost.
The fire axe, originally used by Brother Jun in fights, was already a weapon soaked in blood, carrying an intimidating aura…
Two bold ghost lice jumped at me, biting. I endured the pain and smacked them, turning them into black mist. The bitten spots darkened to the size of fingernails…
Meng Liuchuan gurgled, “I… brought… a squad… to deal with you…” His bitten mouth made his furious threats comically pathetic.
He had raised the ghosts of WWII Japanese soldiers.
This old bastard couldn’t be spared.
I silently vowed.
In an instant, Meng Liuchuan’s sharp nails *snapped* a centipede into ten pieces. I raised my axe and sneered, “Can’t you find some clothes? Japanese onmyoji turning themselves into half-human, half-ghost freaks—if I surrender to you, I’ll be the grandson of a turtle bastard!”
Meng Liuchuan’s clothes were shredded. Several ugly ghosts leaped onto his shoulders, *clicking* together to form eight extra arms. The two ninjas behind him turned pale with fear, dropping from the chandelier.
“What the hell, are you human or ghost?!”
“Brutal. Just brutal.”
Meng Liuchuan pinned my hands down while ghostly hands yanked the dagger from my arm—then stabbed it back in.
“Damn it, that’s cheating! Dead bugs, where the hell are you?!”
I screamed internally, *Bugs, bugs, where are the bugs?!* But the high-rise was too far from the ground—aside from a few mosquitoes, nothing else was around.
I couldn’t use ghost-catching techniques. The only option now was insect control. Though I’d become a five-element insect master, I had no personal insects. True insect masters raised their own bugs, nurturing them with their essence, carrying them for emergencies.
A *gurgling* sound came from Meng Liuchuan’s stomach. My heart leapt—I’d forgotten that while nature had bugs, humans were full of them too.
Meng Liuchuan’s nails gleamed, his eight ghost hands tightening. I swung the axe, but two ghost hands caught it with brute strength.
“Do a flip!”
The two ninjas behind me groaned, clutching their stomachs in pain. Meng Liuchuan’s face twitched, his spare ghost hands clutching his belly. His voice wheezed, “Even if I die today… the ghost faction will end… but the onmyoji will win.”
I spat, “That’s your logic? Kill someone and call it victory?”
“The ghost faction is one man. The Abe family has thousands—if they sent one a day, I’d be dead in no time.”
The old man fought dirty…
“Bugs, flip again!”
Meng Liuchuan’s face convulsed violently. His body’s energy was in chaos—he’d nourished himself with ghosts, refining his physique. Why the sudden pain? Maybe the human milk he drank last night was bad.
He collapsed to his knees, dropping the axe.
I grinned inwardly—*It’s the Three Corpses Worms.*
Ancient Taoist medicine spoke of parasites: the Three Corpses (or Three Worms), also called Peng Ju, Peng Zan, and Peng Jiao. The upper corpse dwelled in the brain (craving treasures), the middle in the heart (craving flavors), the lower in the stomach (craving lust). They were the root of desire, poisoning the body.
Cultivators spent years expelling them to achieve enlightenment.
Real Three Corpses Worms were no longer than a thread. Some insect masters, however, innovated—raising them until they grew as thick as a finger. Such worms could slip into a person unnoticed and kill.
I pushed the worms further. They weren’t fully obedient yet—flips were fine, but killing Meng Liuchuan? No. If he died, they died too.
Meng Liuchuan rolled on the floor. The four merged ghosts, leaderless, scuttled around the room. He let out two foul farts—disgusting. The two ninjas passed out. Meng Liuchuan’s eyes bulged red. “Hero… young hero… I accidentally fell for your Three Corpses Worms. I’m a foreign guest—you wouldn’t kill me, would you?”
I smirked. “Of course not. But Master, why must you keep farting? It stinks!”
His face darkened, realizing he’d been tricked. “Could you… get me a basin? I need to… relieve myself…”
I pointed at the bronze box. “Try that.”
He sighed. “Ancestors’ treasure, defiled… but it’ll do in a pinch.” Sitting on the box, he strained—*splurt!*—a roundworm plopped out.
I tsked. “Japan’s hygiene is this bad? Adults still get roundworms?”
He forced a smile. “No, no… I just like raw meat. Might’ve been unclean…” Peering into the box, he whined, “Where are the Three Corpses Worms?”
The three unconscious Chinese women woke to the stench, grabbed their high heels, and burst out. Seeing the two kimono-clad men on the floor, their crotches crawling with worms, and the naked, blackened Meng Liuchuan squatting on the bronze box—his swollen little brother bitten by bugs—they screamed.
Their shrieks were ear-splitting. “Ahhh—!” They fled the suite, yelling “Perverts!” Staff and security called the police.
I asked, “Do you yield?”
Meng Liuchuan begged, “I yield! Don’t kill me with the worms… please! The ghost faction is number one! Japanese onmyoji are last!”
I picked up the axe, smashing the remaining ghosts. “Remember my face. Come for revenge if you dare.”
“That damn regiment got chopped to pieces.”
Meng Liuchuan’s rear was raw from straining. He wiped frantically with a towel but found no Three Corpses Worms.
I knocked him out cold… Grabbing the axe, I slipped out before the police arrived. The local precinct, informed of the disturbance, sent three officers. Seeing the disheveled Meng Liuchuan, the room reeking of waste, the men sprawled in puddles of filth, and his swollen, bitten little brother…
They pulled the complainant, Xu Lei, aside. “The Japanese have these… customs. What’s it called? S&M? Foreign guests—let it slide.”
Xu Lei nodded vigorously.
Mission done, I stashed the axe and called Brother Jun.
*”The number you have dialed is currently switched off…”*
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