Daily Life of a Villain at Work [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 77

Chapter 77: My Fifth Day as a Malignant Spirit~

As time ticked away, the confidence Chu Yu had displayed earlier began to crumble. Her expression of certainty vanished completely as the sun dipped below the horizon.

“You lost,” Wen Qingyun said teasingly. “No one came to save them.”

Chu Yu couldn’t argue. She silently pulled out a bottle, preparing to draw blood for Wen Qingyun.

“Too late. The sun has set, and the time we agreed upon has passed,” Wen Qingyun said nonchalantly.

Chu Yu’s pupils dilated in disbelief. “I was by your side all day! You didn’t mention this once!”

Moreover, they had made a bet; it was understood that the winner would be determined after sunset.

Wen Qingyun nodded, replying naturally, “Yes, I revealed my whereabouts to you for an entire day. Why didn’t you think to give me the blood on time?”

Chu Yu: “…”

“It’s my fault. Can you give me a chance to make it up?” Reasoning with Wen Qingyun was impossible; compromise was the only way forward. “How about I give you an extra bottle of blood?”

“No, let’s change the terms.” Wen Qingyun licked her itching canine teeth. “I want to take a bite out of your neck.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t drink too much. I know my limits,” she added.

Chu Yu’s eyelid jumped. She felt like prey being eyed by a predator. Well, she didn’t need to feel it—Wen Qingyun was a predator.

“Fine.” Chu Yu didn’t object. She pulled back her Taoist robe and tilted her head, making it easier for Wen Qingyun to strike.

Wen Qingyun leaned in and inhaled deeply. Confirming the scent was exactly what she craved, she picked a spot and bit down. Her sharp teeth pierced the skin, and as blood flowed into her mouth, she narrowed her eyes in pleasure.

She bit over a vessel—not the artery, but a cluster of capillaries and veins. 60ml of blood wasn’t much, just two large gulps, but Wen Qingyun preferred “sustainable harvesting.” She sipped slowly, savoring the rush of euphoria.

While Wen Qingyun drank happily, Chu Yu’s brow was furrowed tight. Several times she wanted to push the spirit away, but her sense of commitment forced her to endure. Wen Qingyun’s lips and teeth were icy cold; there was no breath of a living person, only the sensation of a chilly tongue licking her skin, making her shiver.

This process was anything but enjoyable. Someone with less mental fortitude might have burst into tears on the spot.

After three full minutes, Wen Qingyun let go with a satisfied expression, licking her fangs with a smile. “Thank you for the treat.”

Chu Yu said nothing. She adjusted her collar and prepared to depart on her sword.

“Those women… are you just going to leave them?” Wen Qingyun asked.

“I’m going back to find my Master.” Chu Yu kept her back to her. “Master’s words carry more weight than mine.”

“What can your Master do? Call the police to save people who are being forcibly detained?” Wen Qingyun countered. “If every kidnapped person needs your Master’s personal intervention, will she ever sleep?”

Chu Yu’s footsteps faltered. For the first time, a sense of confusion surfaced in her heart. If the law enforcement agencies only act when someone of my Master’s status intervenes, what is the point of those agencies existing in the first place?

Before she could dwell on it, a rustling sound came from nearby. Both the ghost and the Taoist turned their attention toward it.

“Deputy, is this really okay? There are only two of us. If the villagers swarm us, we’re in big trouble,” a short-haired woman whispered.

“I know. But we were here during the day. The villagers won’t expect us to come back at night,” the woman called “Deputy” replied, also in a low voice.

Chu Yu used an invisibility spell, and Wen Qingyun was naturally invisible to mortals. They watched as the only two female officers from the group that morning—now in plain clothes—sneaked toward the village entrance.

Wen Qingyun’s eyebrows rose. She hadn’t expected some of the police to have such a personality—disobeying orders to do the right thing in secret.

“The target is the house near the village entrance. We move once they’re asleep.”

“Deputy, that means waiting for hours. It’s only 7:00 PM.”

“We have to. If we drive in after dark, it’s too obvious. I gave you the mosquito repellent, use it if you can’t stand the wait.”

“Understood. But Deputy… the Chief promised they’d handle this after the meeting. If we rescue her now, will it mess up the plan?”

The Deputy grimaced. She didn’t have the heart to tell the naive rookie that “waiting for a meeting” was just a tactic to stall. Like her own desire to catch the traffickers yesterday, the higher-ups cared more about the arrests than the victims.

Especially for those who had been there for years and had children, rescue was “too difficult.” Unless a victim was rescued and used the media to create an undeniable public outcry, nothing would happen quickly.

The Deputy knew that the victim in the house near the entrance had the strongest will to resist. She had heard rumors that the woman had once induced a miscarriage by force when she realized she was pregnant. If they got her out, she would know exactly what to do.

“Remember, we are off-duty. We are appearing as ‘concerned citizens.’ Once she’s out, we retreat. No one knows who we are. Understand?”

The behavior of these two women left Wen Qingyun and Chu Yu in a brief silence. The former had to admit that some humans lived up to their ideals. The latter had to admit that those in power often valued their own positions over the salvation of the vulnerable.

“What will you do after I leave?” Chu Yu asked.

“What do you think?” Wen Qingyun replied.

Chu Yu’s lips moved. “You promised not to kill.”

“Mhm. Maybe I’ll just leave them with one breath left?” Wen Qingyun teased.

Chu Yu bit her lip. The living should be bound by the laws of the living. But Wen Qingyun wasn’t living. Chu Yu couldn’t impose human morality on her. She left in silence, vanishing from Wen Qingyun’s perception.

Simultaneously, a system prompt rang out:

[Congratulations Host, mission progress has increased. Current progress: 20%.] [The Host has successfully influenced the protagonist’s perception, indirectly altering the world’s trajectory.]

Can the protagonist’s final fate be changed? Wen Qingyun wondered.

[Theoretically, yes. But the success rate is statistically negligible. It is recommended the Host complete the mission according to the original rhythm.]

Wen Qingyun didn’t reply. She watched the two plainclothes officers. They waited until 11:00 PM. Taking off their shoes to stay silent, they approached the house. The Deputy picked the heavy iron lock in under a minute.

“Shh, we’re here to get you out,” the Deputy whispered, disguising her voice.

The victim, her face bruised, had eyes that lit up with hope. She didn’t care who they were; she only cared about escape. Seeing the officers in their socks, she followed suit, carrying her shoes.

Perhaps “Heaven” was watching; the rescue went perfectly. They left the village and reached their car.

Wen Qingyun didn’t follow further. She headed for a place where resentment was thickest—an unmarked graveyard. She shared a portion of her power with the spirits bound there.

“Kill only your enemies, and I can still ensure you reincarnate into a better life.”

She repeated it three times. The spirits, regaining their memories, surged toward the village. Wen Qingyun waited patiently, playing with the “black orbs” of infant spirits by tossing them and watching them fly back.

After the 35th toss, the first spirit returned. She offered her power to Wen Qingyun and faded away—not dissipated, but her grievance resolved, heading for reincarnation.

By the 99th toss, the last spirit returned. But she hadn’t given up her power. She had turned into a “Malignant Ghost” in the eyes of cultivators, her form solidified and stained red with blood.

“You killed someone who didn’t lay a hand on you,” Wen Qingyun noted.

“Yes. But they were accomplices. I saw their crimes with my own eyes,” the ghost rasped. “I’m losing control. Do you want to kill me, or devour me?”

“I have no chance at reincarnation. Better to serve you than be dispersed by a Taoist,” the ghost said, kneeling.

“Are you sure?” Wen Qingyun scrutinized her.

“I don’t regret it. Even if there is no next life.”

“Then from now on, you are my ghost servant. I’ll call you… Xiao Liu (Little Six),” Wen Qingyun checked her phone; it was 1:56 AM. “You’ll take my surname. Wen Xiao Liu.”

A surge of power entered the ghost’s heart, acting as both a constraint and a protection. The mindless bloodlust in her eyes receded. Wen Qingyun drifted into the village to check the results.

Most of the men were dead, including three teenagers. The village seemed to sleep through it, though some locked doors and chests had been hacked open. Some weren’t killed by ghosts, but by the women they had enslaved who took their own revenge before fleeing. Well done.

…

The next day, the “massacre” of fifty-three villagers hit the internet. Despite the authorities’ attempts to suppress it, the news acted like a virus. “Unexplained deaths in trafficking villages” and “Human-version Lingchi execution” were trending.

Master Qin Mian was invited to the scene. She didn’t need to investigate; the thick yin energy was visible to her. She performed a small ritual to send the infant spirits to peace.

“Did you destroy the evil ghost?” the local Chief asked.

“No,” Qin Mian replied shortly. She saw her disciple’s aura nearby. She wouldn’t say more until she talked to Chu Yu.

Back at the sect, Chu Yu told her Master everything, including the bet. “Master… did Wen Qingyun do it?”

Qin Mian shook her head. “The cause of death is recorded as sudden cardiac arrest. Most of them were destined for a calamity. Their souls went to the Underworld; they weren’t destroyed. Your ‘ghost friend’ likely didn’t strike personally, but she played a vital role.”

Chu Yu bit her lip. “Was I wrong? Should I have stopped her?”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know… I feel they shouldn’t have been killed like that. But I don’t regret it. I can’t feel sympathy for them.”

Qin Mian patted her shoulder. “Rules and orders aren’t immutable. When enough people realize a rule is wrong, it ceases to be a rule. Don’t resist change, Xiao Yu. Accept it. Only then can you escape the prophecy.”

…

Wen Qingyun was now staying in a luxury hotel, using the 5 million yuan she had “squeezed” out of Chu Yu. She had Wen Xiao Liu use her ghostly affinity for technology to search for her past.

“Age, gender, region… all match this university,” Xiao Liu said, showing a photo of a girl’s profile from a school confession wall. “A lot of people are still posting that they miss you. It seems your disappearance hasn’t been officially reported yet.”

Wen Qingyun looked at the screen. So, student Wen Qingyun was still “missing” rather than dead to the world.

“I’m going out,” Wen Qingyun said, standing up. “If someone delivers something, take it for me. If it’s a Taoist, tell them you’re with me.”