The little girl screamed, and with a bang, the female agent was blasted away.

Falling onto the large bed, the female agent stared blankly. Only then did she see that the seemingly harmless little girl had completely changed her appearance.

Crimson pupils, hundreds of sharp, dense fangs—she was clearly a blood demon!

After swallowing the garlic, the blood demon trembled all over, uncontrollably vomiting.

Gunshots rang out as the male agent seized the opportunity, firing a barrage of bullets.

The female agent also drew her sidearm. Her marksmanship was excellent—every shot was a headshot.

However, the bullets that struck the little girl’s forehead were like peanuts embedded in dough, failing to cause any real harm.

Both agents emptied their magazines, but the blood demon disguised as a little girl showed no reaction, continuing to vomit on her own.

Just as the man and woman were about to reload, they heard a voice:

“Don’t waste your bullets. Let me handle it.”

The speaker was the young man who had spat out the garlic.

He was in his early twenties, unremarkable in appearance, and rather overweight. Men could feel superior just by looking at him, and women generally didn’t want to spare him a glance.

No one would believe it if told: this fat guy was once the acknowledged heartthrob of his school.

Later, after joining monster-hunting operations, he was injured multiple times. One particular ailment had plagued him ever since: hypothyroidism.

Hypothyroidism, or underactive thyroid, slows down metabolism. To treat it, he had to take hormones, which caused him to gain a lot of weight.

Despite his looks and figure having become quite unsightly, the fat man still maintained the demeanor of a school heartthrob. With a cigarette dangling from his lips, his face was hazy in the curling smoke.

One could vaguely see seventy percent composure, thirty percent unruliness.

His deep gaze held many stories.

They say every jug of wine comes with a story—who knows how much wine it would take to tell all of his.

He wore a plaid suit with no tie, and underneath was a white jacquard turtleneck shirt.

His leather shoes were polished to a shine, showing he cared about quality of life.

Years ago, he had a nickname in the underworld: Suit Thug.

Later, after his looks faded, some people deliberately annoyed him by calling him Stunning Beauty.

Others disliked his style and called him Wild Beauty.

Three years ago, he turned over a new leaf and became a special technical consultant for the Public Security Bureau.

His name was Henry Parker, a city hunter.

In this era, city hunters had another name: demon hunters.

With a cigarette in his mouth, Henry Parker kept his hands busy peeling garlic.

Crack, crack, crack...

The peeled, snow-white garlic cloves rained down on the blood demon.

Strangely enough, the blood demon, who couldn’t even be hurt by bullets, was riddled with thumb-sized bloody holes under the bombardment of garlic cloves, as if an ordinary person had been shot.

“Ah... no!”

The blood demon trembled all over, her screams growing ever more shrill.

While the monster’s body was on the verge of collapse, Henry Parker closed in, a silver dagger appearing in his hand.

Legend has it that there are agile fat men whose footwork is more graceful than athletes.

Henry Parker was that legendary fat man. Before anyone could see how he moved, the monster’s body—which even bullets couldn’t penetrate—was sliced open by his dagger.

The silver dagger plunged into the heart, and the blood demon fell to the ground, convulsing violently.

The monster revealed its true form—no longer a harmless little girl, but a short, humanoid creature with pale skin and a hideous face.

Seeing this, the two agents were left in shock for a long time.

An ordinary human, using such an unremarkable method, had killed a monster.

The two agents had long heard that Henry Parker was hailed as the most outstanding mortal produced by nine years of cultivation education, having single-handedly taken down many monsters.

That man debuted at fifteen, hunting demons everywhere after graduating from middle school, creating miracle after miracle.

It was said he once killed a cat demon with boy’s urine.

He had also used aconite to wipe out a den of wolf demons.

And now, he had killed a blood demon with garlic and silver.

He proved with his actions that everyone has their own worth—ordinary people can also shine.

The fat man’s story was so inspiring that the male agent in the bedroom snapped out of it, his face showing admiration. The look in the female agent’s eyes was more than just admiration.

Among the other four agents, a middle-aged one was taking notes, recording Henry Parker’s method for dealing with blood demons for internal reference, so that it would be much easier for everyone when they encountered blood demons in the future.

In the middle-aged agent’s eyes, Consultant Parker was a “walking demon-hunting guide.” Some of his unique demon-hunting methods had been sold to the Public Security Bureau as copyrighted material. It was said that a book titled “Parker's Monster Hunting Guide” would be published and distributed to all mortal agents.

“I’ll leave it to you. Remember to transfer the payment to my account.”

Henry Parker withdrew his silver dagger and turned to leave.

The agents watched him go, long since used to this man’s aloofness.

Entering the elevator, Henry Parker swayed a little and quickly steadied himself with one hand against the wall.

The battle just now wasn’t intense, but his body was already overworked.

After nine years and many monster hunts, not every encounter was as easy as today.

Sixteen minor surgeries, three major ones—they had hollowed out his body.