Chapter 145 There was something clearly in the man's pocket...
There was a noticeable spherical bulge in the man's pocket, proving that his hand inside was clenched. Demons never speak kindly, and hearing the infant spirit's words, Ping Yu had a bad feeling.
A chill ran down her spine; she thought: Could this be a case of medical malpractice causing trouble...?
Once you get the psychiatric evaluation certificate, it's practically like having a get-out-of-jail-free card; you can really do whatever you want then. Seeing that it was already his turn in line, Ping Yu, caught in a dilemma, decided to first investigate the man in the windbreaker.
Just as Pingyu was about to leave, Nezha grabbed her wrist.
The boy noticed her hesitation and said, "Go ahead."
"Speak," he gestured, indicating that he would handle the rest. With her boyfriend's assurance, Pingyu felt instantly relieved. However, remembering that Nezha was both an ancient figure and an immortal, she couldn't act too rashly or directly in this era, lest she cause trouble. So she grasped her lover's hand and cautioned, "Be careful."
"Um."
"Don't kill him, don't make it too obvious."
"good."
Do you remember how to make a phone call?
The doctor looked up and saw Ping Yu skating into the room, a look of suspicion on his face. She met his gaze somewhat awkwardly, and after a three-second eye contact, the doctor pushed up his glasses, looked at her shoes, and asked, "Are you wearing roller skates?"
Ping Yu forced a dry laugh: "Very fashionable, right?"
.
After seeing his girlfriend off, Nezha sat back down on his chair, crossed his legs, and casually glanced at the man in the windbreaker that Ping Yu was focusing on. The infant spirit beside him was hideous, covered in maggots, but several golden lines extended from its decaying body, symbolizing that it was not a pure demon.
Even Nezha had never seen this thing before.
He was itching to grab it and study it properly.
Unlike Pingyu, Nezha is dressed in [clothing/clothing].
With his magic still intact, he pointed at the man from a distance, and crimson spiritual energy contracted into threads, shooting out like a spider constricting its prey, sticking to the man's wrist. The boy hooked his fingertip, and immediately, the man's expression changed drastically. He found himself unable to control his movements; despite his best efforts to tense up, the muscles in his arm still spasmed uncontrollably, trying to fling the object in his pocket out.
"What's going on?!"
A soft gasp caught the attention of the infant spirit. The man's actions were all instigated by him, and the infant spirit couldn't allow any mishaps before the event was complete. It stared intently and saw the threads of spiritual energy clinging to the man's hand. Following the lines, the infant spirit aimed at the boy who had just released his oppressive aura.
His handsome face was beaming with smiles, and his rosy lips slowly parted to speak, “This technique is not the orthodox way.”
At this time, Nezha was merely a cultivator, not yet a god. Therefore, the infant spirit only saw him as a young and arrogant Taoist priest with some achievements. Although the infant spirit was small in appearance, it was extremely proud. It didn't take Nezha seriously, its face furrowed, its small hands grabbing the spirit thread, its tone fierce: "Mind your own business!"
This was the first time Nezha had seriously listened to the infant spirit's words. Its tone was strange, and every word was spoken in an unexpected cadence. Nezha raised an eyebrow, unable to discern where it came from.
The hissing cries of the infant spirit gradually spread through the air. The living hate children crying, and so do the dead. The demons who had been watching the spectacle immediately covered their ears and scattered to the sides. Their movements were perfectly synchronized, clearing a path for Nezha.
The infant spirit cried out, shrilly, "You bullied me! Just you wait, my father is not someone to be trifled with!"
The infant spirit was crying, which seemed to move the man it was haunting, causing him to clutch his head in pain. Those around him noticed the unusual behavior and glanced over frequently, hesitant to approach. Finally, a young man with dark circles under his eyes, dressed in student attire, approached with concern: "Are you alright? Should we call out for you?"
"Bang." Nezha exhaled air.
With that, the man finally lost control of his movements. His face contorted in rage as he forcefully flung the object from his pocket. Several crisp sounds rang out as the object slid, spun, and finally came to rest in front of Nezha's toes. The cold arc of metal seemed to slice away the smile on his face, replaced by a look of astonishment. His surprise was deliberate; he pointed at the object on the ground, raising his voice, "Wow, a knife!"
His words brought this psychiatric ward to a standstill.
Three seconds later, it was as if everyone had disconnected from the internet and reconnected.
Screams erupted, instantly engulfing the entire floor: "Someone's causing a disturbance at the hospital!!"
In the chaos, everyone reacted in their own way. Because the man was carrying a huge backpack, and given that he was confirmed to be carrying a knife, no one dared to gamble that he wasn't carrying any other dangerous items. Although most people fled, a considerable number remained. Men, women, and children—all mixed together—surrounded the man, attempting to overwhelm him with numbers and create a deterrent effect before security arrived.
The man's gaze shifted as he realized he had been exposed.
The words had barely left his mouth when he suddenly sprang into action. The man unleashed a terrifying burst of power, charging towards the short knife on the ground. But just as his fingertips were about to grasp the hilt, Nezha abruptly lifted his foot. The man's head sank, and his movement to crouch and pick up the knife exposed his weakness. Nezha, hands in his pockets, stepped on his head.
The man instinctively cursed, "You son of a bitch..."
Nezha stopped him from opening his mouth to spew feces and stomped on it forcefully.
His brain, shaped like an egg, slammed to the ground with a dull thud. Blood gushed from under his forehead, as if cracks were spreading across the ground, a truly terrifying sight.
The man appeared to have lost consciousness and lay motionless on the ground.
The remaining people who had volunteered to restrain the man caught their breath. Their gazes darted between Nezha and the man, already considering how they would speak up for the handsome young man if someone died. Seeing the situation was turning against it, the infant spirit prepared to retreat. Nezha casually grabbed it and held it in his palm.
"Don't make a sound."
Before the other could speak, Nezha launched a threat. He used the tip of his shoe to flip the man over, making him roll like a tortoise. Blood trickled from the man's forehead and nose. Fortunately, Nezha remembered Pingyu's warning and didn't go too far. The man's chest heaved, clearly indicating he was in good health.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
After the life-or-death crisis was over, the minds of those who remained became more active.
Ping Yu had just finished seeing a doctor.
To protect patient privacy, hospitals typically have excellent soundproofing. Therefore, neither "knife attack" nor "excessive self-defense" could be transmitted into the outpatient room.
When the door opened, all the sounds rushed in like a message pop-up that had finally loaded.
Both Pingyu and the doctor took some time to process the information. A moment later, the doctor exclaimed in horror, "On my first day as a full-fledged doctor, who's making trouble for me?!"
Pingyu: What kind of appointment did my mom register me for?
Ignoring the doctor's attempts to stop her, she hurried out. However, what she saw in the waiting room was even more perplexing.
Pingyu saw Nezha surrounded by a crowd, with several college students squatting in front of him, their hands raised above their heads. Each of them held items such as caramel cookies, potato chips, and arcade game cartridges. Pingyu heard them shout in unison at Nezha, "Great hero, do you take on apprentices? We are hardworking and resilient, we can be your slaves, please take us in!"
Pingyu: ...?
What are they doing?
She was a little dazed and retraced her steps back to the clinic. The doctor, huddled in a corner biting his fingers, assumed something terrible had happened outside when he saw Pingyu return. Trembling, the doctor asked, "Was the attack very bloody and horrific? Why don't you lock the door? We'll hide here."
The girl did not answer.
He saw Pingyu pull out a chair and sit back properly in her seat. She looked at the doctor and asked absentmindedly, "Doctor, did I just leave the consultation room?"
Nezha seems to have killed someone and is about to become the leader of the martial arts world, taking on many disciples. Why would I have such a dream?!
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