Chapter Fifty: The Scene Before Us

Jiang Che felt as though struck by lightning, yet his body followed the command of his subconscious, instantly canceling the communication and apologizing with a quick message, “Wrong number.”
His blood boiled, his face flushed, and his eyes surged like molten magma, radiating sheer delight. “Yes! Why didn’t I think of that!”
“My granddaughter truly is clever. Hahaha!”
Despite Jiang Che’s lavish praise, Jiang Ningguang remained unmoved. She demonstrated the overlapping of formations with a gesture. “Jiang Wangshu keeps saying this won’t work, that won’t work, the fat man can only fret—he’s all bark and no bite, cursing his useless subordinates. But if the matter fell to him, he’d be just as powerless, a hundred times over.”
Pinning someone to the ground meant their whole body would be filthy, their face likely scraped and wounded, mixed with dust, which was why Zhao Qingluo looked so wretched.
Her arms flailed helplessly, and Lin Jingya didn’t know how to shield herself. She was slapped twice across the face, kicked in the chest, her back battered, her ankle stomped, elbow jabbed—she took a breath and felt pain everywhere.
“Night market? Which night market? Darling, forgive me, I have a headache today and can’t quite recall.” Bai Tingyu reached up to rub his temples.
The message was simple, just ten words, sent at eleven fifty-five the night before.
“If you’ve come here merely to inspect my house, I could just as well sell it to you. One hundred million dollars—not a penny less,” Qi Yu lounged leisurely in a wicker chair, watching Qi Tiancheng approach.
Nangong Li pretended to glance casually at the locals nearby, noticing their table was bare; they merely sat, occasionally casting furtive looks at their own group and the two tables belonging to the White Gate.
“Well, what else do you say there is?” Liu Nian struggled to control his emotions and asked sincerely.
He had once dreamed of working hard to buy a grand house of his own in City A, but now it seemed impossible.
“Alright!” This was just as well—he truly feared he’d lack the courage to reminisce about those moments just past.
No weapons used, only bare hands tearing through demon corpses, covering herself in rotting flesh and blood—it was more disgusting than the corpses themselves. What she could not bear was that with every demon torn apart by Helen, there was a perverse joy, a wide grin splitting her face.
Ye Feng pondered quietly, considering whether to devise a sword technique specifically to counter their energy-based palm strikes—then he could face them head-on, fearless, and utterly defeat them.
The three arrogant carriages were equally extravagant, each drawn by members of three rare demon clans; every carriage shone with gold and jade, adorned with lifelike carvings.
This matter posed a challenge for Ye Daohong, and likewise for Ye Qianfan.
Before Lin Long’s father, he was less than an ant. Thinking of that man made Liu Lao involuntarily tremble—this was a figure more terrifying than a demon, his hands stained with more blood than Lin Long could ever imagine.
Suddenly, the Demon King’s stone-like body split open, the rocky shell fell away, revealing a demon body just like any other Demon King’s.
“Are we going back soon?” Xu Zuoyan asked; apparently he wasn’t so groggy as to forget today’s return. Just awakened, his voice carried a husky tenderness.
She had no intention of dealing with the burdens of karma now—even if such debts existed, they wouldn’t fall upon her. The iron-blooded army, locked in battle, could cancel out anything.
From the resurrection point at the pit’s bottom, the rim of the conical crater was ringed with counterclockwise swirling sand. Everyone marveled at the ingenious design; curious players from the Eight Domains flew to the crater’s edge to investigate.
Though the Holy Son had changed his appearance, that aura could never deceive him.