Chubby, wearing only a shirt, asked, “Fellow Daoist, is this enough?”

The killer was unimpressed: “Keep taking it off, or I’ll throw another person out!”

“I’ll take it off, just don’t do anything rash.”

Chubby took off his shirt, and even his long johns.

From the front, he was left wearing only a pair of red underpants for warding off evil in his zodiac year.

From the back, it was a bit of an eyesore.

All the agents in ambush saw that on Chubby’s butt, there was a wad of sanitary pads hanging.

The agents were completely baffled—do men use sanitary pads too?

Grace Bennett, who knew what was going on and was sitting in the car, blushed furiously.

Chubby, going all the way, took off his shoes and socks as well, standing barefoot at the entrance of the foot massage parlor: “Fellow Daoist, if I take off anything else, I’ll have no face left to see anyone.”

There was a few seconds of silence inside the foot massage parlor, then a cold shout came: “Come in!”

The crazy beauty really was crazy, walking into the foot massage parlor wearing nothing but red underpants.

As soon as he entered, Henry Parker saw more than thirty people huddled in the corner.

Under the grip of fear, everyone was trembling.

Half of them had lost control of their bladders and bowels, scared out of their wits.

Standing nearby was a humanoid creature, about 1.5 meters tall, with a rat’s head and a human body, and a long tail behind it.

That head was no different from a black sewer rat.

Its hands had turned into strange claws, glinting coldly.

Those claws were dripping with blood, still carrying the scent of entrails.

This rat demon was not the first Chubby had encountered.

He immediately put pressure on the rat demon: “Fellow Daoist, you’re hiding in here and refusing to come out, so I guess bullets can hurt you. Even if you kill everyone here, the people outside won’t let you go.”

The rat demon snarled, “Before I die, I’ll make sure to kill you first!”

Henry Parker said, “Acting on impulse won’t solve anything. I have a plan that will guarantee your safety.”

The rat demon’s red eyes flickered: “Let’s hear it.”

Henry Parker said, “Let these people go first. I’ll stay behind as your hostage.”

The rat demon shouted angrily, “You humans are full of lies. I don’t believe you!”

Henry Parker said, “With all due respect, whether you’re holding one person or a hundred, it makes no difference to the people outside. Having more people will only make things worse. Not to brag, but I alone am worth all the people here. If you take me as a hostage, the people outside definitely won’t dare to touch you.”

The rat demon didn’t get it: “Who do you think you are, to have that much influence?”

Henry Parker pointed to a tattoo on his chest, speaking mysteriously: “This tattoo represents my identity. Take a good look. Someone as skilled as you, who can take on human form, should be able to see something unusual.”

The rat demon stared at the tattoo, but was too embarrassed to admit it didn’t understand.

None of the hostages in the foot massage parlor understood either—wasn’t that just a Pikachu tattoo?

A girl with smoky eye makeup saw the truth: the mysterious Chubby in red underpants didn’t actually have a real tattoo on his chest; it was just a sticker.

From its aura, the rat demon could tell Henry Parker was an ordinary human, and with Chubby unarmed, it had nothing to fear. It walked over, staring at Pikachu without blinking.

When the two sides were just a step apart, Chubby suddenly had something in his hand and slapped it onto the rat demon’s face.

That thing was oval and slender, white with a hint of red, and quite unique.

The rat demon’s head reacted as if it had been branded with a red-hot iron, making a sizzling sound.

“Ah! Virgin girl’s menstrual blood!”

The rat demon had met its nemesis, and its screams were heart-wrenching.

Alice White and Henry Parker had worked together for years and were already in sync. The moment they heard the scream, they rushed in.

The cultivators’ strength was on full display. Alice White’s magic surged as she pounced, beating the rat demon until it howled in agony.

Then the main force rushed in, only to see the rat demon already on its last breath.

The agents did their best to keep their composure, not letting their jaws drop, but inside they were in turmoil. That Chubby in just red underpants solved the problem with a pack of sanitary pads?

There’s an old saying in the cultivation world: every force has its counter.

Even the most powerful cultivator can be restrained by something weak.

But the way Consultant Parker subdued the demon still overturned everyone’s understanding.

The man in red underpants walked out of the foot massage parlor, slowly putting his clothes back on.

He had truly done it—Save the People.

With his actions, he restored the reputation of Yangliu Street and delivered a punchline.

Just as Henry Parker put on his long johns, the system screen before his eyes suddenly flashed with divine light.

The system, usually simple and blunt, for the first time displayed a long passage of text.

[When everything seems to be of no avail, I go and watch a stonecutter hammering away at his rock, perhaps a hundred times without as much as a crack showing in it. Yet at the hundred and first blow it will split in two, and I know it was not that last blow that did it—but all that had gone before.]

Chubby didn’t get it. Since when did the memo-like system become so poetic?

In nine years, he had never seen the system display such inspirational words.

Then, even more stirring words appeared.

[Heaven helps those who help themselves.]

[For a journey of a hundred miles, ninety is only halfway. The path of subduing demons lies in perseverance.]