The Corruption Dragon God: Lust System Chapter 632 I don't want to hear anyone begging.

"Ah... you'll see, Senior Brother Qingyi won't-"

"Shut the fuck up, you fucking little faggot." A sharp crack rang out across the valley as heavy boots crashed brutally onto a young man's face.

His head jerked back with a sickening snap, nose shattering instantly while his eyes welled up with tears.

He was Peng Tao, Chen Wei's servant.

The youth lay in total devastation.

Torn and filthy clothes hung off him, with a widening pool of blood spreading slowly underneath.

Kidnapped just the day prior, his captors grew impatient waiting for Qingyi and chose to entertain themselves.

They began by snapping his fingers one by one. Now, they bickered fiercely over the most inventive ways to mar him.

Sadistic, ruthless bastards disguised as cultivators, these fiends in robes held zero righteous honor.

"Ah... let's just cut off his little stick cock and let him run naked through the forest. If no beast catches him, we'll let him live. That coward Qingyi isn't going to show up anyway."

"Hm..." The group's leader, a cultivator at the seventh stage of the Astral Blood Realm, pondered briefly, scratching his chin slowly before giving a nod.

"We've already wasted time one way or another. Let's at least get some fun out of this."

Hearing those words, the outer disciple who suggested it—the weakest in the bunch at the third stage of the Astral Blood Realm

—showed a twisted, pleased grin.

Guo Tianhao had solid reason to pamper those vile monsters: they lacked any heart whatsoever.

Tianhao had recruited them immediately upon entering the sect, and despite their current weakness, he aimed to mold them into a genuine strike force.

Mindless, brutal beasts eager to slaughter and violate at his merest whim.

This crew was being honed precisely for rivals like Qingyi, marking their initial assignment.

From his spatial ring, the disciple withdrew a tiny, rusted pocket knife and stepped toward Peng Tao deliberately.

"D-don't come any closer! Y-you son of a bitch! No, no!" Utter despair engulfed Peng Tao.

Dying was awful, naturally. But to lose his manhood? That notion alone dragged his heart into a bottomless pit.

No... this couldn't happen.

The tormentor gripped Peng Tao's robes, ready to slash, but froze in place abruptly.

A compact orb of thundering Qi sliced through the air with a piercing whistle, bulging his eyes wide.

His hand got ripped clean off, chunks of flesh and bone spraying in a gruesome mist.

A hoarse bellow of torment and fury boomed through the valley, the thug bounding away from Peng Tao while spasmodically clasping his stump of a wrist, blood pouring between the fingers of his remaining hand.

"To treat a fellow disciple like this... You clearly don't think you deserve mercy, do you?" A voice resounded, frigid and thick with bottled wrath. "I don't want to hear anyone begging."

All of them went rigid at once.

Even Peng Tao, spared as the target of that explosive killing intent, gagged on his spit with a bone-chilling shiver racing down his spine.

Guo Tianhao's ten henchmen swiveled slowly toward the voice.

There appeared Long Qingyi.

Calm and composed, he regarded them with a mild smile. His horns loomed larger, fingers shifted to lethal claws, and from his back sprouted a majestic pair of wings.

His smile stayed soft. His eyes blazed with fury.

Evaluating his adversaries, Qingyi shook his head in faint regret.

They were utterly average.

None carried even a bloodline, and they looked

more like throwaway scum for petty chores than

proper followers.

"So, who will be the first to die?" he questioned, unleashing his bloodline projection.

Only as the massive black dragon bellowed behind Qingyi did the henchmen snap from their daze and recall their peril.

Moving proved tough under the bloodline's pressure, particularly when cultivation gaps were too narrow for raw power to shatter it.

Still, Tianhao's men swiftly steadied themselves, arraying for battle.

Handsome rewards awaited that duty, and Young Master Tianhao's faith in them would deepen.

Not one dared to falter.

"Surround him, one on each side! Don't kill him—recall Young Master Tianhao's orders. Cripple and castrate him only!" bellowed the leader.

Yet a scorching gust whipped between his thighs.

By the moment awareness dawned, Qingyi's hand was extended, like after hurling a blade too swift for his hazy vision to track.

Pain followed the slice.

Warm blood soaked the leader's trousers, drawing a piercing scream of torment from him as he clutched his crotch and his knees collapsed beneath him.

"For someone who talks so much about castrating others, you should

be more careful with your own balls, shouldn't you?" A smirk played on Qingyi's lips as he tilted his body back slightly, evading a sword slashing at his throat.

The keen blade merely scraped his flesh, leaving just a faint pink scratch.

With effortless grace, he booted the assailant aside, driving his knee into the man's gut with a heavy, muffled thump.

"F-fuck... take up the formation we learned! We have to kill this black

dragon son of a bitch!" The leader bellowed, struggling to shake off

the excruciating pain of his castration.

True astonishment gripped Qingyi at the speed with which the man

regained his poise.

Transformed into a woman only moments ago, yet he was already poised

once more, eager for bloodshed.

"Senior Brother Qingyi, be careful!" Peng Tao yelled, mustering his remaining strength.

Qingyi gave a nod, clutching the Heaven-Defying Thunder Sword tightly while surging all his Qi through it, black dragon scales enveloping his frame.

Icy determination filled his gaze as he eyed the ten lackeys gradually closing in around him, their weapons trained on him.

Crimson strands started weaving out from the razor-sharp edges, linking the swords together one after another, as a thick, blasphemous aura throbbed in the

atmosphere.

"Demon Qi..." Qingyi's eyes gleamed sharply, rage blazing in his heart. The situation was growing perilous.