Chapter Sixty: Striking

“Hey, you there! You came here just to pick a fight with us, didn’t you? If you don’t give me an explanation today, don’t even think about leaving.” The speaker was a tall man, glaring at Shu Yiming with wide eyes.

Shu Yiming looked up and saw that the man was built like an ox, but his eyes were dull and murky, as if he suffered from some eye disease.

The people standing nearby...

They all felt responsible for Lin Xiu’s plight. If it hadn’t been for their carelessness and negligence, how could Lin Xiu have suffered such serious injuries? A whole week had passed, yet Lin Xiu showed no sign of waking up. The weight of their guilt gnawed at them every moment, turning each day into an eternity.

Wang Laosan disliked Qian’s attitude and instinctively glanced at Hua Qingyan. Hua Qingyan frowned at the two baskets of cauliflower that Qian had brought. Never mind how terrible the vegetables looked—even the dirt clinging to them made Hua Qingyan reluctant to accept the gift.

With the growth of the population, the underground city was gradually populated under government planning. More and more residents were moved in, which led to the city’s bustling prosperity and eventual scale—just as Lin Xiu and the others now saw it.

It was utterly impossible, yet the Emperor of Buddha had fallen so many years ago, and the resemblance was uncanny. The likeness was so strong that Zhen Meili couldn’t help but feel as if she were looking into a mirror.

As Ding Le’s lover, Ye Chenming wanted not to dwell on such things, but she simply couldn’t help herself. She was always comparing—who mattered more in Ding Le’s heart?

The army of spirits charged madly at the Xuan Domain, clashing violently. On the outermost layer, closest to the Xuan Domain, most of the spirits were of low rank. They hurled their souls against the Sixty-six Heavenly Star Formation in a suicidal frenzy.

The melee atop the battle stage had subsided, but below, the fights erupted with even greater ferocity.

Jian Rui instinctively took a whiff—there was only the familiar scent of Guerlain cologne and the unique masculine scent that belonged to him alone.

Lian Cheng’s mind raced for a strategy. He had once accompanied Director Zhang, and Zhang had given him plenty of face, but later he had foolishly offended the man. No one likes being compared to another man—it was a fatal mistake, and Lian Cheng’s impulsive words had burned that bridge. Now, trouble had truly come knocking.

Ghost Wolf nodded fiercely and waved his left hand. His men released Wang Zhong, though they still kept hold of Qinglian. He wasn’t stupid; with Wang Zhong, their main force, under control, that was enough.

“Maybe I can use this against Christie?” Ron couldn’t help but have the thought. A magician’s body was always fragile—if Christie were caught off guard, even by such a basic dark spell, it would still give her a hard time.

Next came economic validation. That was easy enough to understand—using every means to plunder the colonies’ wealth.

When yesterday’s events were mentioned, every member of the Black-Eat-Black gang blushed with shame. Losing face in front of their own people wasn’t something to be proud of, and now it was being broadcast to every player in the nation. The way others looked at them made them wish they could disappear into the ground.

Unconsciously, Ron thought back to practicing swordsmanship with Joey. Back then, Joey was already a level-seven martial artist, while Ron was only at level five. Yet, by adapting techniques from mecha combat, Ron could often turn danger into safety. Though he couldn’t defeat Joey, he was able to remain undefeated.

Their opponents were clearly not taking the match seriously, either; their chosen formation was as much for amusement as for competition.

Huahua hadn’t expected herself to do such a thing, but there it was—a piece of paper in her hand. She had no recollection of what was written on it.