Chapter 750: Chapter Fifteen: Random Chaos

"Oh, so that's how you get killed." Bai Lang was quite curious; he wanted to see what his own death would be like—he hadn't actually died yet. "This way of dying is a bit dull." Bai Lang looked at the script's description, which only said "died by a treasured sword piercing the chest." Bai Lang has killed many people, so of course he has thought about his own death. The first thing to reject is, of course, one of his childhood traumas… "Dying by having one's egg squeezed in the Eagle Claw Iron Cloth Shirt is absolutely unacceptable."

This sword‑killed death is unremarkable, but it's only an early‑stage secondary antagonist, and that kind of death is already sufficient—meaning dying at the hands of the protagonist. The fight here will require the action director to work harder; previously Bai Lang's fight scenes were so fierce and powerful, how should they design wire‑suspended moves to let the protagonist slay this supporting character? The director is being irresponsible about it…

What hurts the action director even more are the detectives from the precinct sixty kilometers away—the murder is a major case, so many are deployed. The problem is that the on‑site investigators and the forensic doctor both said the killer is most likely a single person who "tortured" the victim, and the final cause of death was probably a "tiger clamp"—the victim's head was crushed and burst. Such a death is downright bizarre and far from mainstream—if it were a traffic accident, that would be one thing…

There are no signs of robbery, and the deceased was a locally notorious scoundrel and thug, with extremely tangled social connections—so who might want him dead? Probably quite a few. There are many investigative angles; the killer didn't break in, so he must have known the victim, perhaps the victim even let him in. "That scoundrel treated his mother so badly, and this old lady was so upset she fainted… Poor parents everywhere." The detectives and the forensic doctor muttered, noting that his mother can no longer be questioned—the elderly woman passed out and was taken to the hospital.

To determine the exact manner of death, an autopsy is still needed; the on‑site investigators have collected massive amounts of fingerprints and other evidence, hoping to pinpoint the killer. Of course, the detectives' top priority is to check the surveillance footage to see if any cameras nearby captured people passing the scene at the time of the incident. This search yielded many people, but only indirect evidence because the building has no entry‑exit cameras. As for how many of those people knew the victim, the detectives will have to investigate each one.

Bai Lang is not involved here, because he operates from a distance, using remote finger force and Qi wave claws; for someone of his stature to kill a lowlife is a serious loss of face, yet Bai Lang doesn't care. In fact, Bai Lang has almost forgotten that he ever killed such a person— even if shown a photo, he can't recall because it was so insignificant; merely remembering that he once went out and killed a scoundrel is already enough.

In Bai Lang's view, this shoot could be called red‑wine‑burning stinky tofu; his fighting style is fierce, sharp, and unyielding, wielding long spears and broadswords, while his stunt double—this time suspended on a wire—does the work because the protagonist, though professional, is getting on in years, so a double is used. The double hangs on the wire, floating as if in a trance… the two fight their own parts— the action director is starting to refuse credit on this TV drama… yet this is the show the director approved.

Perhaps the director has a unique aesthetic sense, as well as a magical ability to pull money—Bai Lang thinks he probably can't comprehend it. Anyway, they get paid, finish filming, and the director packs up and leaves; the wrap‑party will depend on the situation. "I think this is probably the end," Bai Lang told Wei Yang, expressing his lack of confidence in the series. "Don't be so hopeless; audience tastes are hard to predict…" Wei Yang replied insincerely.

Bai Lang is preparing to make another trip to the Capital; his devotion to the Rinpoche remains unchanged, and it seems such a money‑saving jar is truly rare—if Bai Lang didn't have limited investigative skills, he wouldn't know where those corrupt officials stash cash, and why he must? "Which agencies have every employee corrupt? The Land Administration or the Transportation Bureau?" Bai Lang mused on the high‑speed train.

If he knew who had embezzled tens of millions to billions, he could report them and simultaneously help reduce their illicit gains by a few million, so that person should actually thank Bai Lang. This time, Bai Lang can only turn to the Rinpoche, and he can't approach the three from last time; he'll have to swap a few sheep for the job.

Bai Lang is already well‑versed in this; first he inquires about the famous Rinpoche of Chaoyang—after all, each one is a fraud, with no psychological burden at all. "Yo! This Dharma King actually has multiple disciples within his circle, and they're all famous singers and celebrities. What? Even the big stars of action movies take him as a master? This guy must be rich. Good! He's the target; let's extort ten million from him!" Cha‑cha‑mo‑huo.

This time Bai Lang is prepared; he went straight to the Capital's used‑car market and bought a seemingly decent Da Qie—didn't buy the pickup. After parking the Da Qie in a lot, Bai Lang set off to scout the location—having cultivated his martial arts to this level, Bai Lang has mastered the subtle applications of this world, and can finally unleash a supreme skill akin to the Buddhist Sect's "Heart‑to‑Heart Transmission"—White Tiger Devouring Heart.

This Rinpoche is very cautious; disciples and "bodyguards" accompany him at all times, making him look like several senior lamas. Moreover, he doesn't seem like a Rinpoche who hides money—since the fraud is so massive, it's almost all public, and his devoted disciples don't mind at all. "Doesn't that turn into a bank robbery? We still need an opportunity to plant the idea of taking money and keeping it at home—let me recall how to use the Confusing Heart Divine Skill for that?"

Bai Lang strains to recall the martial arts he has witnessed; the illusory techniques along this path are already a grand spectacle, and he has seen part of them—Confusing Heart Divine Skill is one he remembers. Overall it's not a particularly powerful illusion art, but at Bai Lang's current cultivation it can naturally become an unsolvable divine skill in this world. "Sigh, back then I wasn't good at this line of martial arts; now trying to pick it up again feels a bit difficult."

Bai Lang is being modest; the only opponent is a Rinpoche, not a truly miraculous Dharma King. After a brief study, he found an opening to walk past the guy by a few dozen meters—showing off for show's sake, the security is riddled with holes, roughly on par with Jin San's level. This is the mainland Capital, a heavily secured area. Bai Lang glanced at the Rinpoche and immediately employed this mental martial art.

This guy's appearance is just a lively, hidden demeanor; when Bai Lang's gaze hits him, he lifts his head and meets Bai Lang's eyes. With that single glance, Bai Lang casually infiltrates his mind and plants the idea of taking money and keeping it at home—but he fails to obtain any other data from the man's brain; the Confusing Heart Divine Skill is limited to that level—normally it could be higher, but it doesn't sync with Bai Lang.