Only I Cultivate
Chapter 39: Prostitute Killer

Chapter 39: Prostitute Killer

Wu Yunru’s face twitched, and sweat formed on his forehead. "You’ve got to be kidding. Using me as bait again? Even if I’m an E-rank Hunter now, there’s a limit to how much luck I can have. Do you have any idea how many drunk prostitutes there are in Green Vine City?"

Feng Fan’s smile didn’t falter. "Good thing there are three of us, right? Pick three spots, and we’ll each take one."

Then he turned to Luo Li. "Can you ask Liang Mingxia to make a list of possible future victims based on the info we have? Tell her to hurry and get it done before midnight."

Wu Yunru shook his head at Luo Li, silently pleading with her not to go along with it. But his efforts were in vain—Luo Li nodded at Feng Fan.

"I’ll do that."

Wu Yunru let out a long sigh. "Here we go again..." He shot a glare at Feng Fan. "You must be my nemesis—there’s no other explanation..."

👻👻👻👻👻

Based on Liang Mingxia’s intel and Wu Yunru’s selection, they each headed to different locations.

At midnight sharp, Feng Fan leaned against a lamppost, keeping an eye on two prostitutes on opposite sides of the street.

"Prostitute Killer should be attacking any moment now. Stay alert," Luo Li’s voice came through the small wireless earpiece in Feng Fan’s ear.

"Aye, siiir~" a lazy, downcast voice replied—it was Wu Yunru.

Time passed slowly as Feng Fan kept watch. One of the prostitutes eventually left with an old man, leaving only one to keep an eye on. As the clock crept closer to 1:00 a.m., Feng Fan let out a sigh of frustration.

"Nothing on my side. Any luck? I think we missed this—"

Before he could finish, Feng Fan froze. The remaining prostitute stood motionless, her expression blank and dazed as if frozen in time.

"Prostitute Killer is here! Get over here now!" he yelled, urgency clear in his voice.

"Feng Fan, don’t engage! Just buy time—we don’t know how strong he is, but he’s definitely stronger than you!" Luo Li warned as she sprinted toward his location. With her speed, it would take about ten minutes to get there, but her words fell on deaf ears.

Feng Fan activated his cultivation technique, and a chain wrapped around his right hand as he rushed toward the prostitute. When he was about five meters away, his vision suddenly changed.

Instead of the still image from before, he now saw the prostitute struggling against a man gripping her neck. Her face was already turning purple from lack of air.

Reacting instantly, Feng Fan kicked off the ground and closed the gap, delivering a precise jab to the back of the man’s head. The blow made the ghost’s grip loosen, and the prostitute collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.

Adrenaline coursed through her veins, and without a word of gratitude, she bolted down the street.

Feng Fan gave a bitter smile. ’Being a hero really is a thankless job. I just saved her life, and she didn’t even look back.’

Feng Fan didn’t have much time to think. Prostitute Killer slowly turned around, his crimson eyes locking onto him with a crazed, menacing glare. It was like looking at a drug addict who’d been denied his fix—desperation mixed with pure fury, all directed at Feng Fan.

The killer didn’t waste time with words. His hands morphed into sharp, blade-like shapes, and he lunged forward without warning.

Feng Fan could sense that this ghost wasn’t just an ordinary Lingering Spirit, but it hadn’t crossed into the Fierce Ghost realm yet.

’I can handle this,’ he thought, though he didn’t let his guard down.

A second chain formed around his left hand as he prepared to counter. Under the dim light, the killer’s blade-like hands flashed toward him at an unnatural speed. Feng Fan barely kept up, his eyes struggling to track the movements.

He managed to block or dodge just in time, but every impact felt like being hit by a cannonball, making his arms tremble from the force.

With each attack he blocked, he took a step back to absorb the energy, cursing under his breath. ’Damn it, can’t they send me weak ghosts for once? Why is it always the strong ones?’

The ghost feinted a thrust aimed at his right side, but halfway through, the attack shifted toward Feng Fan’s head with a sudden, unnatural reflex. Trusting his instincts more than his eyes, Feng Fan moved with precision, raising his right arm just in time.

Chain and knife collided with a sharp clang.

When the direct attacks didn’t work, the killer switched tactics, mixing in feints. Feng Fan didn’t fall for them—he wasn’t a rookie anymore.

Prostitute Killer didn’t give him a moment to breathe, instantly aiming his left hand at Feng Fan’s abdomen. Instead of blocking, Feng Fan twisted his body, letting the knife slice through his clothes without touching his skin.

The chain wrapped around his left hand ignited, bursting into intense black flames. Taking advantage of the opening, Feng Fan rotated his hips and drove a flaming jab straight into the ghost’s face.

"ARGH!" Prostitute Killer screamed in pain, stumbling back three steps.

Feng Fan’s black flames were like poison to ghosts—burning straight through the soul, no matter where they struck. A wicked grin spread across his face as he gathered more of the dark fire around his right hand.

"It’s my turn now, you little bastard."

With both hands engulfed in the eerie black flames, Feng Fan lunged forward. The last hit had left the killer’s defenses wide open. Feng Fan ducked slightly as he closed the distance, his hips shifting to the side as he prepared an uppercut.

The Prostitute Killer barely managed to regain his balance and prepare to counter, but it was too late. Feng Fan’s blazing uppercut connected with the ghost’s chin, sending a fresh wave of agonizing pain through its body.

"AAARGH!" The ghost’s high-pitched scream pierced the night, sending chills down the spine of anyone within earshot.