Chapter 68: Interrogating Evil and Questioning Spirits

Although there was something strange about this constable’s condition, Shanglu was not concerned.

He could tell at a glance that this was simply a typical reaction following the breaking of an evil spell, when the body had not yet fully recovered.

Sure enough, after a few convulsions, as soon as the constable’s blood and nerves reclaimed control over his body, he returned to normal. Rolling on the ground to extinguish the flames clinging to his clothes, he sprang to his feet and immediately rejoined the fight, assisting Shanglu.

Following the same method, Shanglu quickly restored two more constables to their senses.

By now, the three constables truly possessed by the rat demon were at a clear disadvantage.

It wasn’t that the rat demon didn’t attempt to reassert control over the other three, but each effort was thwarted by Shanglu.

With a loud crack, Shanglu swung his blade once more, striking the back of Constable Liu’s hand and knocking his sword away.

He stepped in close, crowding Liu’s body, and unleashed the Bear’s Advance, mimicking a bear crashing into a tree, slamming into Liu with tremendous force.

With a resounding crash, Liu was knocked headlong to the ground.

The three restored constables rushed forward together, pinning Liu down and refusing to let him rise.

If Du Feng were here, he would surely be clamoring to pour boy’s urine down Liu’s throat in repayment for a previous life-saving favor.

The other two bewitched constables, howling like wild beasts, lunged in a frenzy to free their companion.

But Shanglu toppled each in turn, pinning them to the earth with a foot on each, holding them fast.

They struggled with all their might, but it was futile.

For Shanglu, subduing these enchanted constables was no challenge.

The difficulty lay in how to force the rat demon to reveal itself.

The technique he’d used on Du Feng previously was clearly no longer an option.

Rat demons were notoriously cunning; having been tricked once, they would not fall for it a second time.

As Shanglu pondered whether to send for a shaman, San Niang’s voice suddenly rang in his ear.

“Yindu, Shencang, Qishe, Fengfu...” she recited the names of several acupoints.

Their tacit understanding was perfect—Shanglu immediately grasped her meaning.

He raised his blade and, with its tip, targeted the acupoints named by San Niang on the two constables beneath his feet.

His movements were swift and precise. In a flash, he had pressed each of the points she’d named, one after another.

The knife tip pierced the skin, but only superficially, causing no real harm to the men.

Instead, blood energy surged from the blade, “nailing” itself into the acupoints.

A guttural scream burst from each constable—or rather, from the rat demons possessing them.

Despite the agony, the demons did not flee their hosts.

Clearly, they understood that though remaining within the constables was painful, leaving would place their very lives in jeopardy.

But clinging on was equally futile.

“Force the mouth open, seize the tongue, and pull!” San Niang’s voice instructed once more.

Shanglu obeyed instantly. He thrust his ox-tail saber into the ground, knelt, and turned to the constable under his left foot.

With his left hand, he pried open the man’s jaws; then, like lightning, his right hand darted into the mouth.

The constable shrieked in rage, his eyes blazing with murderous light. His teeth lengthened and sharpened in an instant, intent on severing Shanglu’s hand.

But Shanglu had anticipated every possibility.

He not only shielded his right hand with blood energy, but also wrapped it in the leftover snakeskin from a pair of shoes San Niang had once made.

With this double layer of defense, the constable’s razor fangs could do nothing; instead, Shanglu seized hold of the tongue.

At the moment of contact, Shanglu realized something was off.

This was no human tongue; the surface was covered in fur, and it squeaked shrilly, like a mouse masquerading as a tongue!

Once grasped, it tried desperately to retreat down the throat.

But it was useless: the blood energy hammered into the acupoints had forced the rat demon’s partial form into existence and trapped it in the throat, preventing it from escaping deeper.

Moreover, Shanglu’s iron grip made escape impossible.

“Out you come!” Shanglu bellowed, yanking the furry, writhing tongue with all his might.

With a wet squelch, the tongue, trailed by a spray of blood, was forcibly torn from the constable’s mouth.

Immediately, Shanglu summoned his blood energy, dispersing the miasma shrouding the tongue and revealing its true shape—

A gray-furred rat.

It was sizable, its coat sleek and its body plump—clearly well-fed on incense offerings and stolen food.

The gray rat writhed frantically in Shanglu’s grasp, its beady eyes filled with terror, but his hold was unbreakable, as unyielding as iron pincers.

The more the rat struggled, the more its bones snapped, one after another, beneath Shanglu’s tightening fingers.

Its screams of agony rang out, high and sharp.

Unlike the demon that had possessed Du Feng, this one was far weaker; it couldn’t even speak, only emit frantic squeaks.

Shanglu did not crush it instantly. Instead, he increased the pressure gradually, forcing it to shriek, each cry more miserable than the last.

At the same time, he demanded in a thunderous voice:

“How did you learn of Yunhua Mountain? Speak! If you stay silent, I’ll kill it right now!”

“You threaten me?” came a voice both strange and familiar from Constable Liu, who was still pinned beneath three men.

Shanglu recognized it instantly; it was the very voice of the rat demon that had previously possessed Du Feng.

It seemed this demon’s status was high—most likely the leader of this nest.

Or perhaps, the patriarch of all these rat demons.

Shanglu turned to Liu, holding the near-bursting, wild-eyed rat aloft.

“That’s right, I’m threatening you. Will you talk or not? My patience is limited.”

“You’ve slaughtered so many of my children—I will kill you, kill you!” the patriarch shrieked through Liu’s mouth, its voice venomous and filled with hate, as it struggled desperately to control Liu’s body.

But having been wounded by Shanglu earlier and having its magic broken twice, its demonic power was spent.

It could no longer cause Liu’s body to swell with unnatural strength, nor could it throw off the three men pinning him down.

“Enough of your noise,” Shanglu growled, tightening his grip.

With a muffled crack, the gray rat’s bones shattered and its innards burst.

Its eyes bulged, tongue lolled, and blood streamed from every orifice—a gruesome, wretched death.

“My precious child! You’ve killed my precious child again!” the patriarch screamed.

“I warned you my patience is short. You’re the one who got it killed!” Shanglu retorted, tossing aside the corpse, drawing his ox-tail saber from the ground, and hacking the body into pieces.

With such evil things, one must always strike again to be sure.

He prepared to repeat the process and drag out the demon from the next constable.

At the sight, the demon inside that man shrieked in terror, “No, no, I don’t want to die! Save me, Father, save me—”