Chapter 102 of Volume Three: How Could It Be Her!

“How should we deal with this man?” The Dog-Headed Strategist pointed at Yu Mu as he spoke.

The Second-in-Command said sullenly, “I was hoping to catch a big fish, but ended up with a worthless little shrimp. Damn bad luck. Just kill him outright.”

The Dog-Headed Strategist stepped forward and said, “Second King, even a grasshopper is still meat. Besides, he’s a Golden Core cultivator. Some of our brothers haven’t had a decent meal in a long time. Why not treat them?”

Yu Mu was horrified. He had often heard tales of bandits who feasted on human flesh and blood, but never imagined he would encounter such a thing himself.

The Second-in-Command nodded, “Very well. You handle it. I’m heading back to the mountain.”

After saying that, he handed the net’s ropes to the Dog-Headed Strategist and left with part of the group.

The Dog-Headed Strategist squatted beside Yu Mu and, surprisingly, took off his Black Wind Boots and quietly hid them while Yu Mu was unaware.

Yu Mu immediately realized this scoundrel intended to steal his precious Daoist artifact. Though not powerful, the man’s cunning and insight surpassed even the Second-in-Command.

Suddenly, the Dog-Headed Strategist grabbed Yu Mu’s chin, raised his hand, and sliced off Yu Mu’s tongue. Yu Mu cried out miserably but was rendered speechless, only able to emit muffled sounds.

“Carry him back to the stronghold. Tonight, we’ll have a feast,” the Dog-Headed Strategist ordered. The others lifted Yu Mu with wooden poles and began the ascent.

No one noticed the severed tongue tossed aside by the Dog-Headed Strategist transform into a twig that embedded itself in the soil.

They carried Yu Mu into a vast mountain stronghold.

Judging by its size, it could house over a thousand people comfortably. The stronghold was nestled against a peak as sharp as a sword, surrounded by cliffs forming a natural basin, with the settlement built within.

Unfortunately, whether out of ignorance or rustic nature, the buildings were chaotic and primitive, arranged haphazardly like a tribal village.

By the sword-like peak stood a crooked structure made of massive wood and stone, as if someone had sat on it and deformed it.

This was the main hall of the stronghold.

Most intolerable was the thick horizontal plank above the gate, inscribed with three large characters: “Assembly Hall,” scrawled as if by a worm.

Such a beautiful and spirited land wasted by these people was truly lamentable.

The Dog-Headed Strategist carried Yu Mu straight into the Assembly Hall, where seven or eight men were already drinking and reveling.

He casually threw Yu Mu into a corner and joined the feast.

Listening to their chatter, Yu Mu gleaned some understanding: this place was called Grasshopper Ridge, occupied by these bandits numbering three to four hundred.

Though numbering in the hundreds, unlike Daoist sects, most bandits were mere mortals. The cultivators among them were mostly those with poor talent and bleak prospects, so their number was small.

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