The scene was chaotic. Even though Li Xiaoran was a military general with the title of Eight-Armed Rakshasa, killing people was easy, but stopping them was difficult.

"Xiao Zong, you're here! How many can you cure?" Old Meng jumped up from his chair after seeing Fang Zong cure Sun Zhilan and Sun Gang, his old eyes immediately lighting up.

But then he shook his head, thinking that with Fang Zong's strength, he wouldn't be able to use his method of saving people more than a few times.

"How many do you hope I can cure?" Fang Zong walked over leisurely and slowly sat down in Meng Laode's chair.

Then, Yang Tiesheng and Lin Qiaoyu stood in front of him, one strong and one thin, one beautiful and one ugly, like door gods.

Then put up a big sign that reads ——————

The consultation fee is extremely high during the Qingming Festival.

"Bang!" A burly man with a dragon tattooed on his shoulder, a tiger tattooed on his chest, and a heavy gold chain weighing at least two pounds was thrown over and landed at Fang Zong's feet. As for why he was chosen, there was no other reason than that he looked tough enough to take a beating.

Xue Nuo grabbed the burly man's head, lifted him up, and slammed his face onto the table in front of Fang Zong with a thud. "How much will it cost to cure this?"

"0.2 percent." Fang Zong greeted the customer with a smile.

Upon hearing this, Xue Nuoke's adorable little face went blank. A percentage, followed by a decimal point—what did that mean? Did it mean 0.2 cents? Then she'd misjudged him! This kid was truly patriotic, helping out voluntarily, a friendly and cooperative citizen!

Old Meng's white eyebrows shot up; he wasn't as naive as Xue Nuo, and judging from Fang Zong's half-smiling expression, he was definitely not that simple-minded! Glancing at the chaotic crowd ahead, he roughly estimated a number, then slammed his fist on the table and shouted, "You little rascal, you can't be this ruthless!"

"Otherwise, why don't you do it yourselves?" Fang Zong kindly suggested.

"You're a doctor! How can you raise prices like that? Where has your medical ethics gone!" Old Meng said, his face full of disappointment and frustration, pounding his chest and stamping his feet as he pointed at Fang Zong with a pained expression.

0.2 percent, obviously that means 0.2 percent of the debt. This kid wants to pay off the debt and then earn some more from house calls for a hundred or two hundred patients! You, you, you, do you even know how much money you owe the old man?

Old Meng was so angry that he furrowed his brows and took a deep breath. "Xiao Zong, twelve apartments plus four two-story shops, plus renovation costs, transfer fees, and the exorbitant moving fees, add up to more than 30 million. You only gave this old man 600,000 US dollars, and you still owe 30 million! You want 0.2%, which is 60,000 red bills per person. Do you think this is a big hospital for surgery?"

"Surgery can cure it?" Fang Zong snapped his fingers, feeling incredibly happy.

Treating one person costs 60,000 yuan, and you can even get some good stuff. This business is too easy to make. Don't blame him for being greedy; there's a holiday for Qingming Festival, and the law stipulates double pay.

Seeing that he was unmoved by reason, Meng Laode slammed his fist on the table: "Ten thousand each, that's the most! No more!"

"Twenty million, I'll take care of it all." Fang Zong compromised, wanting to kill two birds with one stone. He couldn't be too greedy and risk losing the deal.

"Deal!" Old Meng made the final decision.

Looking at Meng Laode's smug old face, Fang Zong suddenly felt a bit cheated. The Ghost Killing Team was a special department in the entire Shancheng. Whether it was 20 million, 30 million, or even 50 million, it didn't matter as long as no one died. The old man wanted to wait for him to take over the whole thing, and not let him back out after healing seven or eight people.

Xue Nuo, who was pressing down on the burly man's head, was speechless. She muttered to herself, "My monthly salary is fifty thousand yuan. For twenty million, I'd have to work for over thirty years without eating or drinking!" Her little brain was working fast when she suddenly glared at Fang Zong, her eyes glowing a deep green: "Why?!?"

"I'll give you 30 million, you handle it?" Fang Zong said modestly.

"..."

Lin Qiaoyu and Yang Tiesheng stepped back, holding onto the table so that Fang Zong could easily touch the 'patient'. The burly man stopped struggling, lay on the table, and stared at him quietly.

Suddenly, the burly man's eyes turned a deathly white, unfocused, but Fang Zong felt that the other man was still staring at him, his eyes like a vortex of death, trying to suck him in.

"Why are you meddling in other people's business?!" the other person suddenly roared.

The sound was like water gushing from an underground whirlpool into a cramped, dark cave, rushing and whipping up a chilling gust of wind that sent shivers down one's spine. The chaos ahead abruptly ceased, and hundreds of people stood up, their eyes turning uniformly white as they stared at Fang Zong.

Fang Zong smiled slightly and reached out to touch it.

"Dingdang, the summoner's luck is off the charts! They got Ghostly Aura +1!"

Ghostly aura? Not Yin energy anymore? Fang Zong couldn't help but gasp, looking at the hundreds of people densely packed in front of him.

There were roughly seven or eight hundred people, each possessing a wisp of ghostly energy. Although Fang Zong no longer cared about ghostly energy, he knew what such a terrifying number represented. Seven or eight hundred wisps of ghostly energy, gathered together, were equivalent to the energy of nearly twenty wisps of malevolent ghost energy. Even if they were of a lower level, it was enough for his certain type of energy to rise five levels!

"Again!" Fang Zong shouted towards the front.

"How many can you treat?" Li Xiaoran waved his eight arms, throwing two people over. His cold, icy eyes lit up as he paid special attention to Fang Zong's side.

Yang Tiesheng caught the man and, with a thud, even more violently than Xue Nuo, slammed the man's head onto the table.

"Be polite to my compatriots." It's fine if Xue Nuo hits, but it feels different when Yang Tiesheng does it. After Fang Zong's reprimand, Yang Tiesheng lifted the person up and carefully steadied him.

He was a thin, bespectacled young man with a youthful air, probably someone who had only recently entered the workforce. He stared directly at Fang Zong, his pale eyes turning a terrifying black, almost to the extreme, and said in a low voice, "Are you really going to meddle in other people's business?"

"If I don't meddle in other people's business, you won't bother me?" Fang Zong smiled gently and reached out to touch her.

"Double kill! The summoner's luck is off the charts, drawing Ghostly Aura +1!"

As expected, another ghostly aura!

It seems that finding the skill book on Sun Zhilan was not a coincidence, but rather that the ghost behind her was taking special care of her, intending to use her as a stepping stone to cause trouble for itself.

The feud had already begun, so Fang Zong certainly wouldn't hold back. Three, four, five... all filled with ghostly energy!

Each person who arrived had a chilling change in their expression; some were bleeding from all seven orifices, others were contorted with a ferocious threat, and they all asked the same question: 'Are you really going to meddle in other people's business?!'

Fang Zong was too lazy to answer and touched them one after another.

Triple kill, quadruple kill, pentakill, hexakill, the opponent is feeding like crazy, the opponent is feeding like crazy!

"Is this...is this brat a monster?" Xue Nuo, clutching his beige trench coat, said in a state of utter despair, "He's used the technique more than twenty times already, but I don't feel like he's expending much energy. And his energy intensity is even getting higher and higher?"