Cultivators Are So Weak in This World-Chapter 73 - 72 Judgment, Part 2

At night, Tan Yang City seemed brightly lit, but in reality, the truly lively areas were only the taverns, gambling dens, brothels, and music halls.

All the other streets had long gone dark, with most people already in bed.

The only place within Tan Yang City where you could find information about Basari’s residence was the Black Ten Sect’s stronghold—the Saint Rofa Church.

The Black Ten Sect was a sect with a rather complex composition. Unlike the overseas Orthodox Church, they didn’t worship God, but rather a so-called true god named Ten Karma Heaven.

Ten Karma Heaven represented ten sins of life that people inevitably faced.

According to Black Ten Sect’s teachings, only by worshipping Ten Karma Heaven could one find ways to atone for their sins.

Thus, many within Black Ten Sect had past criminal records.

A lot of them were even notorious criminals.

The Saint Rofa Church that Zhang Rongfang approached was the true headquarters of the Black Ten Sect in Tan Yang City.

At night.

The Saint Rofa Church, with its cross-shaped white architecture, reflected a faint glow under the moonlight.

A towering cross at the top was coated with real silver, which now shone brightly.

Around the church, squads of burly, bearded guards constantly patrolled.

These bearded men wore black clothes and black headscarves; some held large thick sticks, while others’ bare hands were protected by leather gloves inlaid with metal.

From a distance within the church, faint chanting could be heard.

Zhang Rongfang slithered through the shadows like a giant python in the dark.

He ignored the perimeter patrols and instead embedded his fingers into the wall, using the Eagle Claw Skill to carve footholds in the smooth, hard surface.

Swish!

He leapt lightly, jumping over the wall into the inner courtyard.

As he landed, several guard dogs immediately caught his scent and barked fiercely in his direction.

But before they could bark a few times, Zhang Rongfang swiftly dashed into a blind spot in the patrol’s line of sight, sticking closely to the shadow at the church’s side wall.

Without any delay, he inserted a single hand into the door gap, using the robust grip of the Eagle Claw Skill to gouge out a hole in the lock.

The door clicked open, and with a flicker, Zhang Rongfang slipped inside.

Closing the door behind him, he glanced at the wall where a row of black hooded robes for the followers hung.

Taking one down, Zhang Rongfang draped it over himself, set aside his face covering, and walked inside with his head lowered.

If Basari was still in the city, this place was the most likely residence for him.

At least Zhang Rongfang didn’t think that old geezer, at such an age, would be interested in staying at a pleasure house or brothel.

And even if he wasn’t here, there might still be someone here who knew Basari’s whereabouts.

Upon entering, he found a gray-white corridor with brown patterned carpets and oil paintings hanging on the walls.

Zhang Rongfang walked through and soon encountered a servant carrying a silver tray.

The servant had a dark complexion, lighter than Black but darker than Yellow.

Seeing Zhang Rongfang walking towards him, the servant was momentarily bewildered. Suddenly realizing something, he opened his mouth to shout.

But before he could make a sound, his view suddenly blurred.

The servant felt a chill in his throat, and air mixed with blood gushed from his windpipe.

He collapsed to the ground in fear, powerless, the tray and food still not touching the ground as Zhang Rongfang smoothly caught them.

Picking up a milk-made pastry, Zhang Rongfang put it in his mouth, gently placed the tray on the floor beside him, shook off the blood from his short sword, and walked on leisurely.

Actually, if the person hadn’t immediately shouted, he didn’t intend to kill.

But in this world, there aren’t that many ifs.

Passing through the corridor, a door to his right was ajar, and faint voices could be heard from within.

However, the language spoken was completely incomprehensible to Zhang Rongfang, an internal dialect of the Black Ten Sect.

Great Spirit’s territory was vast, with numerous tribes and nations being conquered and assimilated continually; each having its own unique language, making integration difficult.

Zhang Rongfang furrowed his brow; he hadn’t anticipated this before coming. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

But since he was already here, he believed he could find someone who spoke the Great Spirit’s official language.

Listening carefully at the door, he paused for a moment. There were only two people inside.

Silently.

In an instant, he pushed open the door, leaping forward, his figure like a ghost, slipping behind the room’s curtains.

On the carpet within the room, two burly bearded men sat cross-legged.

The two looked over in astonishment.

But there was no one at the door.

One immediately stood up, muttering something, intending to close the door.

Suddenly, he heard a faint hissing sound behind him, turning his head curiously to look.

But unfortunately, he could see nothing anymore.

A cold hand covered his eyes.

At the same time, another hand gently caressed his throat.

"Can you speak the Great Spirit’s official language?" Zhang Rongfang asked in a subdued tone.

"...Yes.. Yes! Spare me, good sir!" The bearded man trembled like chaff, daring not to move.

"Good." Zhang Rongfang sighed lightly.

Behind him, the other bearded man sitting on the carpet had already had his neck partially severed, lying on the ground with blood flowing incessantly.

That one had tried to resist, forcing Zhang Rongfang to kill him on the spot.

There was no choice; that guy wasn’t weak, moving at least at the speed of fourth rank.

Zhang Rongfang was also helpless; to avoid exposing himself, he had no choice but to kill decisively.

In the blink of an eye, during the electric exchange, he realized just how strong he was at the moment.

If simply counting the times he broke limits, he was already considered a seventh-rank master now.

Though he only mastered one high-grade martial art, the Rejuvenation Purification Talisman Manual from the Great Dao Teaching.

But the boost brought by breaking limits seven times was far stronger than that of the fourth rank.

In this reality-based martial arts world where even one rank takes at least three years, a seventh rank represents at least ten years plus eighteen years of hard work.

And anyone who had practiced martial arts for twenty-eight years to reach the seventh rank was absolutely a high-level figure in any force.

Even if the boost of higher ranks weakens, their actual combat capability is far beyond what an ordinary person can reach.

"Now, answer my question." Zhang Rongfang said calmly, softly speaking near the other’s ear.

"Elder Basari, where does he live?"

"Basari... Elder Basari lives in Room Ten of the Silver Sand Room! Right... right here in this church!" The bearded man trembled all over, quickly answered.

"Looks like my luck isn’t too bad. Do you know what he’s come to the city for?" Zhang Rongfang mused.

If all goes well, this time it could be once and for all, completely taking care of this old man.

"Not sure... but I heard it’s to investigate intelligence on the matter of the Sea Dragon and the Lin family! You know, our Black Ten Sect is best at intelligence." The bearded man hurriedly said.

"Take me there." Zhang Rongfang released the man’s eyes.

"Okay...." Crack.

Suddenly there was a crisp sound, the bearded man’s neck was twisted, spinning 360 degrees.

His whole body stiffened, immediately kneeling to the ground, silent.

Zhang Rongfang wiped the short sword on his clothes and left the room.

Just now, the man wanted to yell, unfortunately, the muscles in his throat exposed his intention.

To prevent exposure, Zhang Rongfang had no choice but to strike hard.

Leaving the room, he continued inward, soon encountering two maids.

This time, his luck wasn’t bad.

After pinching one maid to death, the other one agreed to take him there after he touched her neck.

*

*

*

Basari sat quietly by the desk, adjusted the glasses on his face, and carefully lowered his head to read a doctrine text he had just acquired.

The author of this doctrine text was from overseas, and the language used was neither the common Great Spirit script nor the other two languages he was proficient in.

So he could only use a dictionary to translate while reading.

After about ten minutes, he looked up.

"Xiaomo, bring me a cup of fine powdered milk tea, make it hot."

"Yes, Elder, do you want sugar in it?" a voice responded from outside the door.

"No, I want it with salt." Basari exhaled slowly.

"Yes." Xiaomo’s swift departing footsteps gradually faded on the carpet.

After giving his instructions, he bowed his head again, steadied his glasses, and prepared to continue reading.

Dong dong dong dong!!

Suddenly, a rapid drum sound came from outside the window.

Someone shouted, speaking urgently in the language of the Huxi people.

The sound of footsteps outside constantly passed by, seemingly searching for something.

Basari’s heart tightened, listening carefully for a moment, then the long-cultivated vigilance quickly took effect.

He stood up, donned his coat, picked up some important documents and silver coins, and turned toward the left wall of the room.

Approaching the wall, he touched under a whale-shaped oil lamp on the wall.

Buzz.

Instantly, a rounded passage slowly opened on the wall.

This was a hidden escape route to the outside.

Without hesitation, he swiftly stepped into the passage.

Buzz, the wall slowly restored itself.

Bang!!

The door was flung open, Zhang Rongfang abruptly stepped in, looking toward the slowly closing wall.

In an instant, his gaze met Basari’s.

Their black and yellow pupils simultaneously paused.

Three meters apart, the gap in the wall was no more than a palm’s width, there was no time left.

"You’re dead!!" Basari’s shock quickly turned into an icy stare.

He never expected that Zhang Ying would dare to come here personally.

Though he didn’t know how this man managed to break in, he could definitely set off an alarm in the secret passage, then hundreds of people around would come to hunt him down.

And the high-ranking experts stationed in this church would also rush in.

By then, even with wings, Zhang Ying couldn’t escape!

At this moment.

Zhang Rongfang stepped forward, his foot stomping heavily on the floor.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang!

Three steps consecutively.

His right leg’s muscles swelled, engorged with blood.

"Shrinking Step."

His pupils constricted, and his muscles converged like a stream into his right leg.

"Heavy Mountain!!!"

With a thunderous eruption, his right leg unleashed a sharp screech, tearing through the air, pounding on the wall like a cannon shot.

BOOM!!!

The entire room shook and trembled.

The mechanism wall, just about to close, was kicked into a massive depression.

The whole wall skewed and tilted like a seesaw, unable to stop, wedged in place, constantly emitting the clicking of gears.

Behind the wall, in the passage, Basari’s old face turned pale, staring blankly at this scene.

A shower of gravel rained down, grazing his face, neck, and hands, leaving trails of blood.

The wall collapsed with a crash, tilting to the ground.

The passage entrance was now wide open.

Zhang Rongfang entered the passage, swiftly slashing at Basari’s neck, then lifted the unconscious old man and dashed into the secret passage, quickly vanishing.