Chapter 39

"What is it? Are things finished over there?" Liu Mang greeted him and sat down, only to notice that Jeanne the Elder did not look well. He took her hand and felt it was icy cold, causing his own heart to tighten.

Could it be that his nephew had managed to make consecutive breakthroughs in such a short amount of time? Or perhaps he had gained insight into the heavenly prohibitions, allowing his cultivation to advance by leaps and bounds?

"Hmph! A lowly creature like you has no right to speak," the old man in the gray shirt shouted sharply, his voice booming like a bell, filled with majesty.

"When exactly are you going to teach me martial arts?" Xiao Zuo couldn't help but complain. Ever since the monk promised to teach him, he hadn't heard a word.

Li Shanshan pretended to be uncomfortable, yet felt too embarrassed to sit back down, maintaining this distance from Liu Yihua.

Try to fool Li Yong with these scraps? Li Yuming didn't have the guts. A pot of beef and a few bottles of wine—could that be considered good stuff? His regimental commander would kick him to death! Hmph.

What are we waiting for? Let's go and see if there’s any loot left behind in the cave where the enemy agents stayed. The commander once said that Americans are the true wealthy landlords, far richer than the Kuomintang. Most of the soldiers held this belief as they walked forward, laughing and joking.

Next, they entered a fashion boutique called "Flower Fairy." The shop was spacious, with a pink dress hanging in the center of the lobby.

At this moment, this High Priest of the Soul Clan, who had dominated the Southern Wilderness for nearly a thousand years, looked just like an ordinary, frail old man, making one feel a poignant sense of pity.

His arms were bound, and he was kneeling in the dust, with grim-faced soldiers holding guns behind him. Outside, a large crowd of onlookers had gathered; even a fool would know what was about to happen.

There were many people sitting on both sides of the grand hall, their presence extremely powerful, suggesting they were of extraordinary status.

However, Ting Shu clearly had no need to face them head-on. This was not a duel; there were no rules, and any means could be employed.

"Oh? Is what you say true, sir?" Yu Die’s eyes lit up, her tone filled with surprise, and she spoke again with a coquettish laugh.

Tong Shuya watched him, torn between laughter and tears. This fat man had managed to get the whole stadium singing and ignited the atmosphere, yet he had stopped watching the game and was instead having a blast doing the wave.

For seven or eight days straight, Shen Qingwu ran to the Shuiyue Nunnery every day with Qin Lianye. They brought food and drink—meat and vegetarian dishes, even roast chicken and duck—sending them straight inside, completely disregarding the sanctity of the Buddhist site. The room was filled with the aroma of meat, enough to make anyone in the entire courtyard salivate.

I tucked the envelope into my chest. The three Sun Wukongs flipped their hands and withdrew their weapons, then their figures flickered, accompanied by the sound of buzzing flies. I thought to myself, "Damn it... is this the Seventy-Two Transformations?"

It was as if these seven beams of weapon light had struck a towering mountain, shattering massive rocks that scattered and swirled across the sky.

Since she couldn't even set her own mindset right, why should I bother connecting with her?

Originally, Tang Yi wanted to follow the rules and leave an item behind, returning to retrieve it only after requesting and obtaining the State Lord's permission. But after hearing Old Yang’s words and witnessing his assertiveness, Tang Yi immediately decided not to leave it.

Emerging from the smoke, with a desperate longing for life, watching one's own people slowly suffer in agony and die while being completely unable to help—having to watch it helplessly—that is true despair.

"Sigh. I didn't expect things to turn out like this." Liu Xian, who had been silent all along, spoke with a tone of profound helplessness. Clearly, even though he hadn't said a word, he realized that this matter could not truly be blamed on Zhang Fan.

Suddenly, a flash of memory crossed his mind. His body trembled slightly, but his face remained composed.

The roar of Nocturne echoed, and the power of the nightmare shrouded Summoner's Rift. All enemies panicked in the darkness, and the next moment, the source of everyone's panic descended beside Kha'Zix.

At this moment, a pair of divine wings manifested behind Gu Chen, his eyes staring coldly at Hai Dongxin.

Wei Chen followed the two guards all the way to the front gate of the largest palace, his face filled with shock. Only the Ten Thousand Sword Sect in Ten Thousand Sword City could compare to such a magnificent structure.

"The main thing is that the Orianna pushed the lane too hard at the start. Once the Elise appeared, she had absolutely no way to retreat..." the commentator added.

Thus, under their respective lines of thought, the two reached a form of tacit cooperation.

Xue Xiyu’s eyes flickered, and she let out a self-deprecating laugh, transforming into a wisp of spiritual light that flew into the back mountains of the Lanxue Sect.

Of course, no matter who wants to use this tactic, one must remember one thing: it is not necessarily the newest method that is the best, but rather the one most suitable for the person in question—that is the best.

Looking at Qian Haoran’s mischievous face, Wu Zizhuo saw clearly that even though he had already lost his heart to someone else, he still wanted to put on an indifferent act.

Her tear ducts collapsed instantly along with the shock in the musical melody, as if countless blurred, broken fragments were pieced together into a complete picture.

As soon as Su Mu finished speaking, only a shadow remained in his place, while he himself had vanished in a flicker.

Tong Sisi opened her eyes wide, looking closely at his closed eyes. Suddenly, his eyelashes trembled, and a pair of deep gray eyes met hers unexpectedly.

Guoguo looked at the photo in Yunyun’s hand. Her emotions were not as volatile as they had been initially, but there was still a faint, lingering pain in her heart.

By the afternoon, Su Mu and his group had hunted over five hundred magic wolves; it could be called a bountiful harvest.

This bit of counter-force, while not enough to effectively harm the opponent's body—after all, it was equivalent to only twenty percent of Sun Jian's own strength—was enough to perfectly shake his footing. In a battle between experts, such a flaw could be fatal.

Si Luan did not object. She opened her mouth slightly, and a cyan pill with white veins was placed inside.

"I know a secret. Please, don't kill me," Aslun said with a trembling voice.

Feng Yi entered the room and scanned his surroundings, until a cool breeze swept past his cheek, making him shiver and turn around abruptly.