Chapter 328: Like Gods, Xian

“You’ve all gotten settled! Old Master Fuli is going to speed up now!”

Sitting in the driver’s seat, Old Master Fuli called out to the bears to get in, his fox paws gripping the steering wheel as he twisted the accelerator knob with all his might—the V8 pickup, modified for disabled drivers, roared to life.

Under the fat cat’s directions from the passenger seat, Old Master Fuli tore down the rural dirt road at full speed.

Under the watchful eyes of the masked forest ranger, Lin Bingyun, and Wang Ya’s group, the rumbling pickup smashed straight through the red-brick warehouse beside An Kang Town’s road, plowing forward at full throttle and startling the old gatekeeper into leaping out of his security booth.

“Old Master Fuli—such a genuine soul,” the masked forest ranger removed his black face mask and the protective respirator from his cheeks, turning to Lin Bingyun with a quiet remark.

Lin Bingyun fell silent for a moment, then looked at the ranger and said: “I hear what you’re not saying, but the commotion we’ve made is actually quite small.”

“If someone could build a factory in this town, it means there are people in An Kang Town who know.”

“According to your classification of spirit beasts, might Old Master Fuli’s nature be to protect the land and waters of this region?”

The ranger froze, puzzled by Lin Bingyun’s words.

But Wang Lei and his wife, along with the foundation shareholders, all wore complex expressions as they stared at the smoky factory, their faces filled with pity.

No one in Changancheng understood the weight of “protecting the land and waters” better than these shareholders.

To protect the land and waters meant to utterly eradicate the evil and demons plaguing the area.

It didn’t matter if the culprit wasn’t present.

Old Master Fuli would scam him into rushing back like dumplings dropped into boiling water.

Just recalling their past scamming ordeal made the Fuli Ecological Protection Foundation shareholders’ heads ache.

Wang Ya took a straight wooden stick from the trunk of the sedan and walked toward the factory.

…………

“Boom—”

The black pickup smashed through the red-brick wall, then crushed the insulation layer and inner walls, the entire vehicle launching over crumbling bricks before crashing heavily onto the factory’s self-leveling rubber floor, skidding over ten meters.

“Old Master Fuli—is this really okay?”

As the black pickup crashed down, the fat cat in the passenger seat, still shaken, asked nervously.

“What’s not okay? Didn’t you say we were here to smash their factory?”

“Strike fast, catch them off guard, spray!” Old Master Fuli’s gaze swept the surroundings—the chemical plant’s interior remained brightly lit; some discarded rubber tires had fallen to the ground from the impact.

Several laborers were hauling discarded rubber into the factory.

But now they stood frozen, gaping at the black pickup that had drifted through the air and landed.

“Gogogo!”

After scanning the environment, Old Master Fuli wasted no time—he climbed out the window, ran to the roof, turned around, and grabbed an electromagnetic launcher.

“Shhh-shhh-shhh—”

Old Master Fuli angled his muzzle upward and sprayed a burst at metal pipes with no hazard labels.

Coin-sized bullets shot from the barrel at over a thousand rounds per minute, striking the steel pipes around them, sparking violently and ringing out with sharp “ding-ding-dang-dang” clatters.

“Now!”

“This place is surrounded by Old Master Fuli! You, the blond in the control room upstairs, and you, the old man outside—if you don’t want bullets, raise your hands!”

After firing a burst, Old Master Fuli stood atop the vehicle, raising the electromagnetic launcher, his voice loud yet childish:

“And you others—don’t just stand there! Get down! This chemical plant doesn’t belong to Newton anymore—it belongs to me, Old Master Fuli!”

The chain of events gave the factory workers no chance to react.

The workers stood there, utterly stunned.

A fox driving. A fox holding a gun. A fox shouting threats.

“Tap-tap-tap—”

Seeing the suspects still didn’t obey, Old Master Fuli swung his electromagnetic launcher and fired a full sweep across the factory.

“The Great Immortal has manifested!”

The laborers finally understood—sweat soaked their white fur, trembling, they crouched down.

It’s a ghost! It’s definitely a ghost!

The fox immortal has come to drain our yang energy!

“You up there—try moving again, and while everyone else gets a beating on the butt, I’ll flip you over and beat you twice!”

After securing the situation, An Sheng called out to the bears in the car, telling them to go fetch the blond upstairs and the old man outside.

“Puke—”

The fat cat clung to the car door as he staggered out; the five bears in the backseat, having endured Old Master Fuli’s wild driving, vomited the moment they stepped out.

After vomiting, the three black bears and two pandas split left and right to go capture the suspects.

“Immortal! Spare me! You’re like gods, all of you! I’m just a scared old man—please spare me!”

The old security guard, dragged into the factory by the pandas, clawed desperately at the ground, wailing as if he’d stumbled into the legendary scene of the “Five Immortals Seeking Blessing.”

He’d lost his three souls and seven spirits—his lifelong urinary incontinence was cured completely, a steady stream soaking his pants.

“Like gods? You look like a dumbstick!”

“New era—no superstition. We study Marx, philosophy, ethics, and law.”

Listening to the old guard’s wailing, An Sheng scratched his fluffy triangular ear, patted the gun in his hand, and said: “Know what this is? It’s a gun. Know why it’s a gun? Because this is a robbery!”

“Call your boss. Say a kid set fire to your rubber stock—or wrecked the machines. Trick him into coming back!”

“If you lure him here, I’ll rob him. If you can’t lure him, I’ll slit your throats.”

Old Master Fuli’s voice was childish, but his tone was ancient and wise, his logic flawless.

He even refuted the old man’s backward thinking.

What century is this, still seeking blessings?

Can blessings compare to a gun?

My gun’s pressed to his head—don’t even say “like gods.” Today, whoever shows up, I’m his father.

“What are you all staring for? Call! Do I need to top up your phones for you?”

An Sheng barked, startling the workers huddled with their hands on their heads—they scrambled to call everyone: team leaders, supervisors, general managers—all lured back.

“Team leader! Something’s wrong! The village kid set our rubber stock on fire. We caught him—he’s crying so hard he can’t even speak!”

The worker tilted his phone so the old guard’s choked sobs could be heard through the mic.

“His voice is gone from crying—come quick! We don’t even know how much this stuff is worth!”

“A kid? Kids like this must be rich—look at his lighter, it’s gold-plated. Yeah, yeah—he said his family has some kind of Mengqin vehicle, V8…”

The worker glanced nervously at Old Master Fuli and added: “His backpack is Hermès.”

The chemical plant, once quiet and peaceful, had erupted into chaos.

Old Master Fuli didn’t care—he’d rather they came willingly. Once he found the illegal discharge pipe, he’d shove it straight up the boss’s ass.

If they didn’t come…

Then he’d waste some fuel, drive over, and shove an eggbeater up his ass instead.

“Old Master Fuli…”

Wang Ya, carrying the wooden stick, arrived late, stepping through the broken wall into the factory. She swallowed hard, looking up at Old Master Fuli on the roof, and whispered:

“I have something I need to tell you…”

“That thing we talked about before—it’s now covered by a factory.”

(End of Chapter)