Daily Life of a Villain at Work [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 75

Chapter 75: My Third Day as a Malignant Spirit~

Her thick eyelashes fluttered slightly as Chu Yu slowly opened her eyes, instinctively turning her head toward the source of light and heat nearby.

“Why… why didn’t you… kill me?” Chu Yu’s voice was faint, softer even than the crackling of the burning branches.

Even bathed in the glow of the fire, Chu Yu’s face remained deathly pale. She struggled with great effort just to prop herself up into a sitting position. Only then did she notice she was wearing nothing but a white T-shirt almost entirely stained red with blood. Beneath her was a beast hide that still smelled faintly of gore, seemingly flayed not long ago.

Did Wen Qingyun prepare this for me? Why would she be so kind?

“I’m not someone with short-sighted vision. I’m going to keep you around and drink your blood every day to get stronger,” Wen Qingyun said, lifting her sword to inspect the progress of the roasting rabbit.

“Remember: three bottles of blood a day. Not a single drop less. Otherwise, I’ll start a massacre—I’ll kill every person I see.”

“Impossible. As long as I draw breath, I will stop you,” Chu Yu declared. Even though she lacked the strength to stand, her resolve remained unshakable.

“Ha, are you sure?” Wen Qingyun moved the roast rabbit away from the fire and spoke with a teasing smile. “If you insist on being stubborn, I’ll drain every drop of blood from your body today, take this sword of yours, and start the slaughter immediately.”

“I’ll start with this village, then the towns, the county center, and finally the city center.”

“You know I don’t fear the sun. As long as I’m fast enough, I can send several thousand people to meet the King of Hell before I’m even surrounded.”

“If I sneak into an armory and use modern weapons, the death toll will only climb. Even if you declare martial law, I can tamper with the water and food supplies, poisoning tens or even hundreds of thousands.”

Chu Yu trembled with rage, her frail body swaying as if she might collapse back onto the hide at any second.

“You… how could you… you’ll face Heavenly Tribulation for this…” Chu Yu’s voice shook. She reached out a trembling hand, attempting to form a hand seal.

She quickly realized the spiritual power in her body was pitifully low; she couldn’t even manage a basic signal for help. This was the greatest loss Chu Yu had ever suffered. In the past, even against powerful foes, she at most had to use her essence blood for talismans. But this ghost had rendered her primary advantage useless. Her final, life-burning strike had been blocked by those pure, innocent spirits.

She felt a deep sense of frustration and regret—regret for being arrogant and underestimating her enemy, striking before she was fully prepared.

“Is that so? Then I’ll look forward to the day the Tribulation arrives.” Wen Qingyun smirked and tossed the sword back toward Chu Yu.

Chu Yu instinctively caught it with her right hand, but her depleted stamina forced her to brace her left hand against the beast hide to stay upright.

“What’s your choice? Three bottles of blood a day, or do I go kill people right now?” Wen Qingyun asked, sitting by the fire, waiting for her answer.

Allow the malignant spirit to kill now, or ‘nurse a tiger to invite calamity’ by delaying for time?

“If I give you my blood, you won’t kill anyone?” Chu Yu asked, her resolve wavering. No matter what, she didn’t want to be indirectly responsible for the deaths of thousands.

“As long as you give me the agreed amount of time every day, I won’t kill anyone that day,” Wen Qingyun said. “That’s my word. As of now, I have no intention of changing my mind.”

“30ml a day. I will hand it to you before sunset,” Chu Yu sat up straight again. “You must form a pact with me. If either side breaks it, they will be punished by Heavenly Thunder.”

“No pact,” Wen Qingyun refused flatly. “I am kindly giving you a choice, not negotiating with you.”

“If you don’t trust me, then don’t. Let me devour you, and then I’ll use your sword to kill everyone I find unpleasant.”

Wen Qingyun wasn’t some honest, noble protagonist. Given her absolute advantage, she wasn’t about to negotiate on equal terms. The fact that she was willing to give a promise at all was already a major concession.

Chu Yu remained silent. After five minutes of agonizing deliberation, she finally bowed to necessity.

“Fine. As you wish. I will give you 30ml of blood before nightfall every day.” Chu Yu closed her eyes; she had no choice.

“Correction: not 30ml. Three bottles,” Wen Qingyun shook a small jade bottle she had retrieved earlier.

Chu Yu looked at the bottle. “The capacity of this bottle is exactly 10ml. I had them custom-made.”

Originally meant to hold spiritual elixirs for mana recovery, they were now containers for her own blood. 30ml of ordinary blood a day was an acceptable loss for a cultivator like Chu Yu; she could make it up with medicinal supplements.

“Then have more made. If you can’t guarantee a daily delivery, I accept advance payments,” Wen Qingyun said with a grin. “If you give me fifteen bottles at once, I won’t kill for the next five days. And so on—I have no upper limit for blood intake.”

“And if you do kill someone?” Chu Yu challenged me.

“Hmm, then I’ll refund you a bottle?” Wen Qingyun blinked playfully.

Wen Qingyun’s attitude was clear: she held the power of final interpretation. Chu Yu could either choose to trust her or oppose her completely and trigger a massacre right now.

“From now on, as long as you don’t kill, I won’t strike at you,” Chu Yu said through gritted teeth, stating her stance. “If you kill the innocent, I—along with my sect and the entire Occult Bureau—will be your enemies.”

Wen Qingyun chuckled. She said nothing, yet her silence spoke volumes.

Chu Yu had no choice but to sit cross-legged on the hide. She stared at her high-grade spiritual weapon currently serving as a spit, tore off a rabbit leg, and began to eat. There were no visible seasonings, but the meat had a fruity sweetness. It tasted quite good.

“By the way, for the rabbit plus the beast hide… remember to pay one bottle of blood as a fee,” Wen Qingyun said nonchalantly just as Chu Yu swallowed her first bite.

Chu Yu froze. Since she couldn’t exactly spit out what was already in her stomach, she had to accept the trade. Once finished, she wiped her sword, and Wen Qingyun tossed her an empty jade bottle.

Chu Yu was a woman of her word. She silently cut her ring finger and filled the bottle to the brim before handing it back. Wen Qingyun sniffed it as usual, confirmed the scent was as alluring as ever, and stored it in her small black orb.

“Want clothes? One bottle a set,” Wen Qingyun offered with a smile.

Chu Yu didn’t answer. Instead, she took a jade pendant from her neck, activated it with spiritual power, and pulled out a fresh set of teal Taoist robes and clean undergarments.

Wen Qingyun’s smile vanished. The smelly Taoist has a storage artifact too?

Had she known, she would have searched her earlier. Such a valuable item could have been ransomed for a much higher price.

Chu Yu looked at Wen Qingyun, then at her own tattered, blood-stained T-shirt. After a moment’s thought, she turned her back to Wen Qingyun and began to change.

Wen Qingyun raised an eyebrow. Chu Yu wasn’t even trying to hide while changing? Was this a twisted form of trust? Wen Qingyun criticized her internally, but her eyes remained fixed on the girl, unblinking.

Cultivators were indeed different; there wasn’t a trace of excess fat on her back. Every movement made the lines of her muscles clear and defined. The smelly Taoist has a thin waist. I can see the outline of her bones when she lifts her arms.

Oh, she has back dimples. I kind of want to poke them.

The only flaw was the five or six bloody gashes Wen Qingyun had left there. The blood had clotted, but the movement of her body threatened to reopen them. No—they were already opening.

Wen Qingyun began to inhale. Sensing the sweet aroma, she walked over and pressed her hand onto Chu Yu’s shoulder. As Chu Yu turned her head in confusion, Wen Qingyun extended her tongue and licked away the trickling blood.

She smacked her lips. The wonderful taste made her teeth ache with a primal urge. She really wanted to take a bite.

“What are you doing?” Chu Yu shifted, trying to put distance between them.

“Nothing. Just checking on your wounds,” Wen Qingyun pulled her gaze away reluctantly, her eyes meeting Chu Yu’s in the firelight. “I can help you apply medicine. Only one bottle of blood.”

Chu Yu said nothing, eventually realizing she couldn’t break free from the hand pinning her shoulder. She sighed in resignation.

“Fine. But apply the medicine first.” Chu Yu chose to compromise once again.

[Congratulations Host, mission progress has increased. Current progress: 11%.]

Hearing the prompt, Wen Qingyun happily accepted the medicine from Chu Yu’s hand, sniffed it, and began applying it to her back. The specialized ointment worked quickly, stopping the bleeding instantly. Wen Qingyun was in a good mood, so she even wrapped the bandages for free.

She sat back on her rock, watching Chu Yu finish tending to her other wounds and put on her clean robes.

“Why didn’t you explain to me that you killed those people for revenge?” Chu Yu asked as she filled another bottle with blood and handed it over.

“Didn’t I say that already?” Wen Qingyun took it, checked it, and stored it.

Chu Yu pursed her lips. “You didn’t tell me you were kidnapped. You didn’t tell me those people were… villains with blood on their hands.”

“Why should I have told you?” Wen Qingyun countered. “You came at me with killing intent from the start. Shouldn’t the person who needs to figure out the ’cause and effect’ be you?”

Chu Yu was speechless. “I only saw you kill seventy-three people.”

“Oh? And I only saw a Taoist who wanted to kill me for no reason the moment she showed up,” Wen Qingyun retorted without hesitation.

Chu Yu remained silent for a long time. Finally, she spoke slowly. “You… a ghost who died with such a grievance can choose to contact the Occult Bureau. Someone would seek justice for you.”

Wen Qingyun sneered. “And if I found this ‘Bureau’ you speak of, what would the result be?”

Chu Yu: “We would perform a ritual for your soul and send you to reincarnation.”

Wen Qingyun: “And then? What about the people who killed me?”

Chu Yu bit her lip. “They are still in the world of the living; they would naturally be punished by human law.”

“They indeed did wrong, but some of them… their crimes did not warrant death.”

“Ha? Does it not warrant death?” Wen Qingyun laughed out of pure fury. “Can’t you feel it? How many people died unjustly on this mountain?”

“Even by the rule of ‘a life for a life,’ seventy-three lives wouldn’t be enough to pay the debt.”

“I was seeking revenge for myself, but I also sought it for those who died here unjustly, whose bones were never found.”

“Can’t you feel it? Ever since I killed those people, I got stronger just by staying here. I shouldn’t need to explain why, right?”

Chu Yu was completely silenced. She knew exactly why: it was because Wen Qingyun’s actions had been recognized by the victims. They were willing to offer their power to help her. Not just the resentful wraiths, but even those pure, ignorant infant spirits—they all approved of and were grateful for what Wen Qingyun had done.

But the living must follow the rules of the living. While those people were alive, they should have been judged by the law. If human law wasn’t enough, the Judge of the Underworld would send them to the eighteen levels of Hell after death.

That was the education Chu Yu had received since childhood: no matter how much someone deserves to die, they should be judged through proper channels, not through the vengeance of a malignant spirit. If vengeful ghosts were allowed free rein, the world of the living would fall into chaos within days.

Yet, Chu Yu had never seen a ghost like Wen Qingyun—one who could maintain such clarity and logic after taking dozens of lives. Usually, even a few lives are enough to turn a ghost into a bloodthirsty, mindless wraith. Wen Qingyun’s ability to remain rational was a major reason Chu Yu was willing to trade with her.

“It’s late. I need to return to my sect to report,” Chu Yu said, her voice slightly raspy. “As long as you don’t kill the innocent, I will guarantee with my life to keep you off the wanted list.”

“Suit yourself. I won’t thank you for it,” Wen Qingyun said, warming her bloodless hands over the fire. “And a reminder: when I say I won’t kill, I mean I won’t kill ordinary people. If Taoists or monks come at me like you did, I won’t show mercy. I’ll kill as many as they send.”

Chu Yu didn’t argue, seemingly accepting the term. After a few minutes, she stood up and walked toward the cave entrance. “Will you still be here tomorrow?”

Wen Qingyun continued to bask in the heat, even though it did nothing for her cold body. “Hard to say.”

“How do I contact you?” Chu Yu asked. “I will bring the three bottles as promised, but I need to know how to get them to you.”

Wen Qingyun thought for a moment. “Hmm. Draw a talisman that won’t harm me but can sense my location. I’ll do you the favor of wearing it.”

“I don’t have materials on me.” Chu Yu bit her lip. “Wait for me in this cave. I’ll be back before sunrise.”

“Before sunrise?” Wen Qingyun looked her up and down—this Taoist looked like she’d blow over in a stiff breeze. “Are you sure your mana will let you make it back?”

Chu Yu: “…”

“Before sunset. I will return here,” Chu Yu corrected herself.

Wen Qingyun shrugged. “Fine. But I only accept you coming here alone. If there’s a third party, I’ll assume you’ve torn up our agreement.”

“Understood,” Chu Yu agreed, gripping her sword as she walked out.

…

Ten minutes later, Chu Yu sensed her Master’s aura and sent a signal. Seeing her disciple’s state, Qin Mian rushed over, her brow furrowed, and immediately popped a healing pill into Chu Yu’s mouth.

“Xiao Yu! What happened? Your qi and blood are severely depleted!”

Chu Yu struggled to swallow the pill. “Ran into some… unexpected trouble. Master, what’s the situation outside?”

Qin Mian pressed her palm to her disciple’s back, transferring spiritual power. “The relevant departments have arrived. They’ve taken the survivors down the mountain.”

“Was it an ancient malignant spirit awakened from a tomb?” Qin Mian asked with concern. “Where are you hurt?”

A hint of color returned to Chu Yu’s face. “Master, I want to go back first. I’ll tell you everything slowly.”

Qin Mian’s frown deepened. Her intuition told her something was off with her disciple, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. “Alright. Go back and rest. You can tell me everything when you’re ready.”

…

Once the Master and disciple’s auras had completely vanished, Wen Qingyun flicked her finger, batting away a small black orb of energy flying toward her.

“I know, go play on your own. When you’ve had enough, go to reincarnation. Don’t linger here,” Wen Qingyun said. She stretched and lay down on the beast hide.

Ghosts don’t need sleep, but Wen Qingyun enjoyed it, so she slept. As she closed her eyes, the wandering spirits of the forest gathered around her once more. But this time, she didn’t hear incoherent whispers; she heard wave after wave of heartfelt gratitude.

As time passed, the spirits vanished one by one, and their power flowed into Wen Qingyun, causing her strength to climb at a terrifying speed. When she woke up, she felt brimming with power.

Walking out of the cave, dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves. Seeing that nearly half the spirits in the forest were gone, Wen Qingyun murmured softly:

“Since you’ve been so generous, I’d feel bad taking your power for nothing. I’ll make sure you can depart with more peace of mind.”

Her figure turned translucent, and she moved with incredible speed.

A place filled with “righteous qi” like a police station is usually inaccessible to supernatural beings. Yesterday’s Wen Qingyun could only have entered at night. But today’s Wen Qingyun was different; she could not only enter in broad daylight but also suppress her inhuman aura to avoid triggering any defensive arrays.

She wandered around and soon gathered the information she wanted.

The five girls kidnapped with her had already contacted their families and would soon be reunited with their mothers. Among the surviving women in the village, half admitted they had also been kidnapped—some ten, twenty, or even forty years ago.

As for the other half, they were completely brainwashed. They had forgotten their original names and homes, identifying only as members of this village. They refused to admit that their husbands, fathers-in-law, and sons were criminals.

In Wen Qingyun’s eyes, these people were accomplices. While their past trauma was pitiable, it didn’t change the fact that they had helped “the tiger hunt.”

If the living are to be judged by the laws of the living, let’s see how these accomplices are punished.

She wanted to see how the people she killed would be presented to the world at the crematorium. Would they be “innocent civilians murdered by a malignant spirit,” or “vicious criminals who got what they deserved”?

“Deputy Chief, the clues are limited. These are sketches the artists made overnight based on the testimonies.” An officer’s eyes were bloodshot from staying up all night.

The Deputy Chief wasn’t much better. He had also worked through the night while the Chief accompanied the higher-ups to rest.

“However, one girl has an excellent memory. She remembered three digits from the van’s license plate. We’re narrowing it down based on the vehicle model and plate numbers,” the officer added.

The Deputy Chief nodded, taking a big gulp of cold coffee. “Good. Keep up the 24-hour search of surveillance footage. Add the facial data to the Skynet system and see if we can narrow the range.”

“Deputy Chief, news from the mountain. The K9 units found five bodies in varying states of decay. Forensics is on the way,” another officer reported. “Preliminary estimate: all victims are female, dead between one and three years.”

The Deputy Chief’s eyelid twitched. “How far from the village?”

“About two kilometers. The search is ongoing.”

“Find them. We must find that ‘fell to her death’ girl. It hasn’t been long; she might still be alive, or just severely injured.”

“Deputy Chief! Bad news! Someone posted info online about a ‘massacre in a village’ nearby.” A clerk ran in. “The post has photos of our cruisers entering the village. It’s already trending on the local hot search.”

The Deputy Chief’s brow furrowed. “Contact Cyber Security. Have them manage the narrative. Don’t let the public panic.”

“People are also discussing human trafficking. Should we suppress that too?”

“Find the source. If it’s the victims’ families, tell them leaking info makes the traffickers more alert and advise them to delete it. If it’s just people spreading rumors… have the cyber police handle them strictly!” the Deputy Chief barked.