The ghost twists and struggles.

Unable to escape, they had no reason to be arrogant.

Fang Zong felt that what was about to happen was absolutely the most, most, most, most, most, most exhilarating touch he had ever experienced!

Reach out decisively!

One time, no response;

Twice, still no response;

three times……

Fang Zong couldn't help but touch his forehead, actually tapping Ninth Sister.

Ninth Sister said weakly, "Dingdang, remind the summoner that there are no limits to the dark side. If you touch even a tiny bit of Yin energy, the other person won't even feel it."

Okay, I'm not happy about this.

Fang Zong remained silent and continued touching.

The wooden ghost stared blankly at Fang Zong, or rather, at Fang Zong's hand.

Long, slender, snow-white, and delicate fingers—very beautiful…a man's hands.

Fang Zong's hand touched the wooden ghost's forehead, making it feel dizzy; when he touched its chest, the wooden ghost began to tremble.

Touching the thigh, the wooden ghost: "……(ˉ▽ˉ；)……"

Honey, what are you doing?

What are you doing?!

Once it fell into Fang Zong's hands, the wooden ghost kept wondering whether it would be steamed or deep-fried before being eaten—it knew that to a demon like Hu Batian who cultivated with ghostly energy, it was just an appetizer.

The only thing I didn't expect was that Fang Zong would touch me all over.

As expected, Hu Batian meowed twice and jumped over. As usual, he was arrogant and proud. After turning into a little yellow cat, he even raised his two front paws to tighten the bow tie around his neck.

Then he licked his paws and said, "Fang Zong, I'm hungry."

Fang Zong casually tossed over a bank card, quite pleased that Da Huang had changed how he addressed him.

As for himself, well, he can't change it. "Big Yellow" is such a lovely name. He can't bring himself to say something as childish as "Tiger Overlord."

Tiger Overlord, satisfied, carried the clapper in its mouth, wagged its tail, and went out, not even glancing at the wooden ghost.

This thing was a delicacy and a elixir to him, but it was also a poison.

Tiger Tyrant never cared about strength; he only cared about having a home, someone to love him, and being able to enjoy life. He would hold his bank card in his mouth, calculating how much good food he could buy.

"Meow, how much money is inside?" As she approached the window, she seemed to remember something and turned back to ask.

Fang Zong rummaged through his wallet and replied, "My friend at the oil field was really generous. A few days ago, as usual, we settled our accounts and transferred the year's oil field profits to him. It's in this card you're holding."

oilfield?

Hu Batian was a little confused and asked, "How much is that?"

"More than fifty million, oh, US dollars."

Fang Zong wasn't someone who cared about money, and he spoke casually. However, Hu Batian's body stiffened, and he swayed unsteadily before falling directly out of the window.

This is the 26th floor, a very high place. Hu Batian almost didn't react in time. Only when he reached the ground did he reduce the impact of his fall, flip his body, and land on all fours.

With the card in his mouth, it looked like he was carrying a mountain of gold.

The cat's eyes widened as it looked left and right, as if afraid someone would steal one of its powerful, level-three demonic creatures.

Suddenly, one claw shot out, then two claws, then three claws.

He exploited his pitifully poor mathematical talent:

"The best villas cost 30,000 per square meter, no, let's say 50,000. This is 1,000 square meters, no, it's US dollars, multiply by 6, woohoo woohoo woohoo..." Hu Batian shouted excitedly, rolling around on the ground: "A big villa, a super big villa cat house! Bigger than my cave, more luxurious than my cave!"

"Wait, something's not right. Which cat owner is so nice to their cat?" Tiger Tyrant became suspicious and quickly looked for the nearest ATM.

So many people in the vicinity saw a yellow kitten inserting a bank card into the ATM with its pink paws.

Anyone who looks over out of curiosity will see sharp claws and a guarded growl.

Half an hour later, Hu Batian finally snapped out of his daze from the series of zeros, put away his bank card, and headed towards the food street where the aroma was wafting.

A figure walked across the street, hurrying past in the adjacent parking lane. Although it was just a fleeting glimpse, Hu Batian still saw two will-o'-the-wisps under the person's hat and smelled a stench that made him want to vomit.

"Meow, there's a demon corpse," Hu Batian muttered to himself. "This city is really unlucky. Skeleton ghosts, wooden ghosts, and now even demon corpses have appeared!"

He followed the direction where the demon corpse had disappeared, wanting to see what was going on.

Aside from powerful demons possessing ancient souls, modern demons, including Tiger Overlord, cultivate using ghostly energy. Lacking a method to remove harmful substances from this energy, their strength increases rapidly, but their lifespan doesn't increase much.

A demon corpse is a monster that is unwilling to die. It seeks out ghosts to refine itself into a zombie. It is neither alive nor dead, neither demon nor monster, and can be described as something that is all of these.

Tiger Tyrant didn't want to get involved in such trivial matters. Finding a 'poop scooper' like Fang Zong in the limited lifespan of a cat was definitely a stroke of luck, and he had to squander Fang Zong's money like crazy.

However, Fang Zong is a great military general.

The cat owner's business is the same as Tiger's business!

Fang Zong always enjoyed chatting, listening to ghost stories, and experiencing the joys and sorrows of life that he had never experienced.

This time was different. He gritted his teeth and went to different places to touch the wooden ghost.

He liked hearing Ninth Sister's notification sound, even if it was just a level one technique, but he didn't expect her to be so ruthless, grabbing at things harder and harder.

The wooden ghost was completely bewildered. Could it be... that Fang Zong has a fetish for models?

But his look is very simple, not even as good as the mannequins in clothing stores.

"Wait a minute," the wooden ghost suddenly said as Fang Zong patted its shoulder, "You can have anything you want, just say the word. You know, in the eyes of us ghosts, nothing is more important than living. As long as you speak, I can tell you everything about the Empress Dowager."

Fang Zong shook his head.

The Empress Xiao is one of the "One King and Two Queens" in the Yin-Yang Road.

Despite being ranked last, the Empress is the queen of the Yin-Yang Road, and her strength far surpasses that of the three princesses. Fang Zong has no intention of targeting her for the time being.

He continued to reach out and patted the wooden ghost's left shoulder.

"Ding Dang! Congratulations to the Summoner for having a lucky streak! You've found a critical strike-related skill +1!"

Did you touch it?

Why did I touch it this time?

Fang Zong looked over in surprise and found that the wooden ghost's left shoulder was dark red, as if blood had been sprayed on it, and it continued to decay over a long period of time.

Before he could figure it out, Ninth Sister's voice continued to ring out.

"Double kill! Congratulations to the summoner for a lucky streak! You've hit a critical strike-related spell +1!"

"Triblekill! Congratulations, Summoner..."

Suddenly, Ninth Sister's voice paused for a moment.

"Congratulations to the Summoner for having an incredible lucky streak! Touched the memory fragment of the puppet lover, triple! quadruple! quintuple... eight-hit combo!"

"An eight-hit combo, invincible under heaven!"