Chapter 53: Chapter Fifty-Three: The Gourmet of the Solitary One

The white-faced man's expression twisted.

The Feng family of Longevity indeed raised many corpse handlers.

But the Feng family members do not learn corpse handling; their methods are a hundred times more formidable than corpse handling.

Where would one need to learn corpse handling?

Corpse handlers are merely dogs raised by the Feng family to make their affairs more convenient.

"It seems not."

Tang Luo asked again, "That young man, does your Feng family have any ruthless, merciless elders who kill without count and treat human lives as grass?"

The white-faced man actually still looks quite young; his initial display of arrogance and conceit.

Also gives off a very youthful feeling.

Such an arrogant young man surely has some impressive, protective elders at home, right?

Having a tradition of beating the young to the old, this kind of family custom and basic operation?

The white-faced man didn't know how to answer the monk's question for a moment.

Continuing to spout harsh words, saying "You dare to do anything to me, my family's elders will come out and beat you to death"?

The sudden, inexplicable feeling of embarrassment made it hard for the white-faced man to speak.

"You say, if I hang you on the wall, your Feng family elders will surely come to trouble me."

Before the white-faced man could answer, Tang Luo continued speaking enthusiastically.

The white-faced man's body trembled.

"You madman!" he shouted, instinctively crawling away from Tang Luo.

This monk from the Great Thunder Sound Temple, Xuanzang.

Actually plans to fish?

Using him as bait to lure out more Feng family members?

If not a madman, what is he?

Does he not fear the Feng family tearing him to pieces?

No, it should be making him unable to live or die, endlessly tormented.

In the white-faced man's memory, no one has ever treated the Feng family with such disregard.

"Come, try it." Tang Luo said with a smile, "Just right to test your importance in the Feng family. Life is made up of one test after another."

Bending over, grabbing one of the white-faced man's legs, Tang Luo dragged him toward the station's door.

Because the task requires staying here overnight until six in the morning.

If unnecessary, Tang Luo wouldn't go out, insisting on opposing the task.

Hanging this white-faced man on the wall to attract more Feng family members with mushrooms is a good choice.

Rare goods can be hoarded; wait at ease for people to come to you.

I, Tang Luo, Victorious Fighting Buddha.

Great literary master, acting master, tactical master.

Four Possessions Buddha with comprehensive development in virtue, wisdom, physique, beauty, and labor.

"Shout."

Placing the white-faced man at the door, Tang Luo said.

"Shout?"

"Shout for help, if you don't shout for help, how will your family know? If they don't know, how will they come to save you?" Tang Luo said, "If they don't come to save you, I won't kill—won't liberate them, how will I gain merit?"

"Gain merit?"

The white-faced man widened his eyes.

He was certain, this monk is a madman, a demonic monk.

Gaining merit by killing people?

Which temple did this mad monk come from?

Oh, it's the Great Thunder Sound Temple.

"Punish evil, promote good, liberate the wicked, merit naturally appears." Tang Luo said.

"You are the wicked one."

The white-faced man put these words in his heart.

But he cannot shout.

What kind of family is the Feng family?

Strong, ruthless, cold-hearted, unfeeling.

Emotion, in the Feng family, is like a straw that can be discarded at any time.

"Shouting" for the Feng family, there is indeed a chance to shout out Feng family members.

But when these people appear, it is not to save people.

Simply because the white-faced man is a Feng family member.

What Feng family members will do is certainly not to save people, but to kill.

To kill the arrogant provocateurs of the Feng family.

Using the provocateur's blood to prove the Feng family's strength.

And the white-faced man, if not dead, after the matter ends, will likely become a "living basin."

Saving people? Does not exist.

The consistent style of the fierce Feng family from the north.

I have a special way to contact them, and I've already contacted them.

The white-faced man said in a deep voice.

He must delay the time and find an opportunity to escape.

"Oh, they know?" Tang Luo asked.

"They know."

The white-faced man said, "Since you're so eager to die, I'll just have to fulfill your wish."

"I can't tell."

Tang Luo stared at the white-faced man and muttered.

"What?" the white-faced man asked.

What can't be seen.

As soon as he finished asking, a great sense of unease and fear welled up in his heart.

"I..."

Just as he shouted out a word, the white-faced man felt a hand lightly stroking the top of his head.

An immortal strokes my head, binding my hair for longevity?

Pfft!

The white-faced man's head exploded.

This time, it wasn't just mycelium inside.

Since I've already notified the Feng family, the white-faced man's purpose has been fulfilled.

What Tang Luo needs is not hostages or bargaining chips.

He just wants people to "come forward to receive death."

The Feng family doesn't need "hostages," and neither does Tang Luo.

By the time the white-faced man realized this, it was already too late.

As for "can't tell,"

it means Tang Luo couldn't tell whether the white-faced man was lying.

The acting master is just very experienced, able to make judgments based on experience, not necessarily able to tell if someone is acting.

The headless corpse fell, Tang Luo walked to the side, picked up the ominous thing he had casually thrown on the ground when practicing with the bronze-armored corpse.

He returned to the small room.

Shouldn't we make a holster for the ominous thing?

Attached to the position of the forearm.

The wide, flowing sleeves can conceal the ominous thing, and it's also more convenient to use when needed.

After all, in the mission world, once equipment is taken out for use, it cannot be put back.

"Gods and demons" are quite stingy.

"Hmm?"

Not long after sitting down, Tang Luo's wandering gaze focused on the doorway.

It wasn't that Feng family members appeared.

But rather, the white-faced man's corpse began to change.

His hands, feet, and body became withered.

In just two or three minutes, it became like a desiccated corpse.

Then, on the neck where the head was missing, a mushroom slowly began to grow.

A mushroom with five-colored black.

I don't know if it's the one inside the white-faced man's body or the newly grown one.

The Feng family calls it the "longevity mushroom."

Actually, it grows on corpses and even living bodies; calling it a "corpse mushroom" would be more appropriate.

Tang Luo redeemed the white-faced man, but did not "redeem" the corpse mushroom along with him.

After the corpse mushroom grew, the body gradually moved.

Slowly crawling up from the ground.

Late at night, a desiccated corpse was rising, its head replaced by a black mushroom.

"Now it's really a mushroom spirit?"

Tang Luo directly broke through the window and came before the "mushroom spirit," reaching out to grab it.

The grabbed corpse mushroom released a large amount of spores.

Like kicking up a cloud of dust.

Tang Luo's lower abdomen twitched slightly, he exhaled a breath, blowing away all the spores, then pulled hard.

He pulled the corpse mushroom off the desiccated corpse.

The desiccated corpse fell to the ground and shattered, as if it had been wind-dried for countless years.

There was no corpse mushroom inside.

The corpse mushroom in Tang Luo's hand is the one that had just grown in the white-faced man's chest cavity, now grown onto his head.

Looking at the corpse mushroom in his hand, Tang Luo fell into deep thought.

"Wukong, do you know the 108 ways to cook monsters?"

"Monk, you want to break your precepts again!"

"Wine and meat pass through the intestines, the Buddha leaves them in his heart."

"Do you truly have the Tathagata in your heart?"

"The demon wanted to eat my master, but my master digested it in the end—this is karma. Even if the Tathagata Buddha knew, he would agree with my master."

"Monk, your hostility is so strong you resemble a demon more than the demon does—isn't that right?"

"My master is merely a lonely gourmet, that's all."

The memory was so fierce, the longing so intense.

The table in the small room was the kind with a built-in cabinet.

Tang Luo opened it and saw an electric cooker inside.

He took it out to look—it wasn't very clean—went outside, fetched water, washed it, then fetched water again.

He plugged it in, Tang Luo tossed the corpse mushrooms inside, and covered the lid.

Let it simmer slowly.

I don't know if it can cook into nourishing mushroom soup.

The merit power provided by the corpse handler, the pale-faced man of the Feng family, to Tang Luo.

Added together, it still doesn't match the Ripper Jack of the first world.

After consuming merit power to heal wounds, Tang Luo's current unharmed limit remains at 8%, still a hair's breadth from 9%.

Even if all remaining merit power were exhausted, it still couldn't be achieved in one go.

Still, following convention, leave a portion aside for emergencies.

Just like saving money regularly.

The Moonlight Clan encounters an economic crisis—yet they will collapse.

Tang Luo cannot afford to be a Moonlight Clan with zero risk resistance.

Closing his eyes again, Tang Luo, like an old monk entering meditation, continued breath regulation to heal wounds.

One hour later, Tang Luo opened his eyes.

He added water again and continued cooking.

Repeated several times.

The time had already come to 5:30, and the sky gradually brightened.

The two corpse mushrooms remained unchanged.

They hadn't withered or shrunk, nor had they swollen.

However, the last water added was no longer clear.

It had a hint of clear mushroom soup.

The Feng family members also did not appear.

Feng Gate Village was utterly silent.

Not even a rooster's crow could be heard.

"Not bad."

He lifted the pot, took a sip of soup, and Tang Luo thought to himself.

It had no healing effect, but it was like ordinary people drinking hot water—it could warm the stomach and stave off hunger to some extent.

Of course, if truly ordinary people drank the soup, what would happen is hard to say.

With good luck, they should become stronger.

With bad luck, they would drop dead on the spot.

He drank it all in one go, Tang Luo grabbed the corpse mushroom and bit into it.

The corpse mushroom melted upon entry, and a fierce, raging power like blazing fire erupted in his mouth.

Firmly held by Tang Luo, it was completely absorbed.

Good teeth, good appetite.

"Well, this does have some effect."

Tang Luo felt a quiet joy inside, ate three mouthfuls, then closed his eyes again to regulate breath and heal wounds.

His wounds had recovered somewhat.

Thus, Tang Luo could now exert 9% of his strength without aggravating his injuries.

"Shasha—"

Heavy, dragging footsteps came from outside the room.

Tang Luo turned his head and saw Aunt Shufeng leaning on a broom, swaying as if about to fall, walking toward the room.

Seeing Tang Luo turn his head, Aunt Shufeng's eyes lit up—she hadn't even remembered what to say before she collapsed straight to the ground.

This aunt had been subjected to Mi Ke's "dead Daoist friends don't die, poor Daoist" treatment.

Kicked flying by the corpse handler, she miraculously didn't die—how fortunate, how gratifying.

"Lady donor, are you still well?"

Tang Luo walked up to Aunt Shufeng, crouched down, and asked.

"Master... save me." Aunt Shufeng wept tears and snot.

"Well, this poor monk will now give you enlightenment." Tang Luo raised one hand to his chest, closed his eyes, and began chanting sutras.

At that very moment, the painful expression on Aunt Shufeng's face turned into viciousness.

Grabbing the broom, she suddenly swung it at Tang Luo's head.

Just like when on the bus, swinging at the ticket inspector, swinging at those three zombies.