CHAPTER 601: CHAPTER 111_2

Although it was small and stout, as it landed, it flipped over quickly like a spider, with its limbs touching the ground. Its tiny head remained high, and its narrow eyes flashed incessantly.

In the next moment, Zeng Miaomiao began to move rapidly from side to side while Tan Wenbin watched her twist her body.

Suddenly, Zeng Miaomiao made a reverse pull, seemingly using inertia to evade Tan Wenbin’s attention. Then she pounced forward, her arms like two sharp pincers stabbing at Tan Wenbin’s abdomen.

After losing his target, Tan Wenbin fell back instinctively, his hands grabbing at the air and his legs kicking out.

His legs kicked through thin air, but his left hand caught hold of something, and he fiercely flipped it over, slamming it hard onto the ground.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

It rolled and slammed continuously, like a washing machine drum turning over and over.

Though the posture looked awkward, the sheer volume ensured it was effective. Tan Wenbin finally experienced the joy that Run Sheng must have felt.

The same move, when performed by people of different strength bases, yielded entirely different results.

"Crack!"

Zeng Miaomiao’s arm broke, and the remaining part flew off, hitting the wall. When it fell, cracks appeared through her body, with her joints twisting.

Tan Wenbin climbed up from the ground and glanced at the broken arm in his hand. It looked like a dried twig. Just as he intended to wave it like a weapon, it crumbled into dust.

Tan Wenbin opened his mouth, exhaled a breath, and a white mist puffed out. It used to be only in the dead of winter that warm breath would appear, but now it was midsummer, and cold air was coming out.

The wound on the back of his neck turned from pale to purple.

At that moment, Grandma Zeng’s voice came from the second floor,

"Who exactly are you?"

Without hesitation, Tan Wenbin looked up and replied,

"The 108th successor under the Heavenly Master Zhang of Dragon and Tiger Mountain!"

There was no response from the second floor.

Tan Wenbin knew he could not delay. He resolutely grabbed a stool and prepared to finish off the damaged dried corpse.

Unexpectedly, Zeng Miaomiao dared not approach again and began to skirt around the room in avoidance.

Tan Wenbin chased her around for a while, realizing that this couldn’t go on. As he passed by Zeng Yinyin, who was just getting up, he smashed her with a stool.

The stool shattered, and Zeng Yinyin fell again, blood streaming from her head.

Next, Tan Wenbin stopped playing cat and mouse, first darting through the kitchen into the hall. He didn’t hurry upstairs but headed for his sleeping room, all because his backpack was still inside.

As he ran, he heard a scuttling noise from the roof. When he looked up, he saw the second dried corpse crawling overhead with one hand, holding a cane in the other.

He ignored her and continued running. Tan Wenbin leaped into the room, flipping over to reach the backpack.

Just then, Grandma Zeng chased after him, her figure descending, and her cane swung directly at Tan Wenbin’s face.

"Boom!"

Tan Wenbin pulled out the Yellow River Shovel, elongating it to block the attack.

Grandma Zeng’s body was sent flying, landing on the cabinet.

Tan Wenbin staggered, his facial expression twisted as if some force was gradually leaving his body.

He didn’t hesitate to tear off the now-blackened Sealing Talisman on his forehead and replaced it with two new ones, placing one on his forehead and one on his chest.

"Buzz!"

The ghost husband, which was about to leave, pressed tightly against Binbin again.

Looking down, Tan Wenbin saw that the veins under the skin of his arms were bulging, and there was a dense feeling of protrusions on his face.

He was, after all, not a Divination Child and wasn’t using Divination, purely relying on techniques to forcibly bind himself with an evil spirit.

Lin Shuyou was injured every time after using Divination, but that was pure injury. Tan Wenbin wasn’t, and if he continued, his body might undergo mutations, gradually transforming him towards a half-human, half-corpse state. And that was if things went well.

There was a high probability that once his body gave out completely, he would be entirely ruined, succumbing completely after coming down with a severe illness.

Back in the dorm room, Li Zhiyuan reared a high-heel specter just to guard the door, which only symbolically fell short of the high moral standards of Righteous People.

What Tan Wenbin was doing now was a truly unorthodox method. No, even those treading the unorthodox path would have to laud him with admiration, saying, "Brother, you’re really tough on yourself!"

"Hiss, woo ha!"

Tan Wenbin opened his mouth, his throat emitting a suppressed sound. This wasn’t intentional; it was an instinctual reaction brought about by the influence.

He then took the return home net out of his bag, intending to wrap things up.

But just as he habitually reached into his pocket to press down on the ink pad, he felt a scalding sensation at his fingertips, a searing burn.

"Oh wow, oh no!"

The pain made Tan Wenbin quickly pull his hand out, rubbing his fingers vigorously on the mosquito net nearby.

It’s not good; I had become an evil spirit!

Moreover, it was an evil spirit carrying black dog’s essence blood with it.

Grandma Zeng lunged again, wielding her cane, while Tan Wenbin countered with the Yellow River Shovel.

This kind of dried corpse might be agile, but in terms of real strength, it was no match for the current ghost-husband-possessed Tan Wenbin. Plus, Tan Wenbin genuinely knew real tactical moves in his mind, and with the Yellow River Shovel in hand, he soon had Grandma Zeng flying out of the room with one swat.

Taking advantage of the situation, Tan Wenbin pursued, heading into the hall. One-armed Zeng Miaomiao rushed out to block him but was struck away by Tan Wenbin with the shovel.

Again, a voice came from upstairs,

"Corpse Recovery Diver?"

There was no choice. The Yellow River Shovel was a standard tool for Corpse Recovery Divers.

Tan Wenbin didn’t bother to talk to the opponent, wielding the shovel and pursuing the attack.

The two dried corpses had no choice but to be chased around by him, occasionally taking a hit from the shovel, with more cracks appearing on their bodies.