"This ghost is a bit salty and sour. It's lacking in yin qi, but a little heavy on the fiendish aura. I'll save it for Grandpa to enjoy."
In another ghost city, Jiang Yi casually detained a sticky, sludge-like mass.
This was a water ghost at the Qi Cultivation Seventh Layer, whose body he shattered with a single punch, turning it into pure yin qi.
He quickly rolled the yin qi into a ball the size of a longan, placed it in a yin-locust wood box, and then stuffed it into his well-worn Sleeve Pouch.
With just a few twists, he kneaded it to the size of a longan, placed it in the box made of yin-locust wood, and tucked it away into that half-new, half-old Sleeve Pouch.
He looked up. The long street of the ghost city was completely empty; they had all fled without a trace.
Jiang Yi walked slowly, holding the Cat Master. Ahead was a shopfront. Severed hands and feet lay on the butcher's block, while a basket underneath was filled with heads.
