Volume One, Chapter 117: Confrontation, The Truth Revealed

Yang Chun’s outburst caused no substantial consequences. It merely served to indirectly confirm Lu Cheng’s words: Meng Qingyue was not as simple as she appeared.

Thus, through Red Boy’s account, delivered with such obvious excitement that he could barely form coherent sentences, the four members of Tiansheng gained a new understanding of the Blood Demon race.

Yun Quan was a seasoned man of the world. He instantly recognized the desire in the other man’s eyes, and every hair on his body stood on end.

“You really are a gossip. The nickname Mr. Eight Lives suits you perfectly. Honestly, there’s no dealing with you. If you want to hear a story, you’ll have to pay, all right?” Jiang Yilin pretended to be reluctant and rolled her eyes dramatically.

Xiao Zhang followed the sound and saw a young man standing on the steps before the villa. He wore a black tunic suit and had short hair and a long face. His features were unremarkable, but an intimidating aura radiated from him, making people reluctant to approach.

As a son, he could not stab a knife into his mother’s heart. The words “Love Poison” were a secret of this household, a secret his father had insisted on concealing until the moment of his death.

Once he had made up his mind, Tiansheng immediately set out for the continent of the Supreme Emperor Heaven and began searching personally for Mo Wentian’s whereabouts.

Yet, judging from the flute music he had just heard, it seemed more likely that the tune had been improvised on the spot, merely to enhance the atmosphere created by the zither.

They saw Yun Quan still standing more than ten meters away, still dressed in white as pure as snow, his expression indifferent as he let out an angry roar.

In the blink of an eye, he saw the One-Eyed Dragon’s enormous foot suspended directly before him, while fresh blood continued to drip down his face.

Lin Le was unable to suppress that faint masculine impulse. He walked over to Wei Yu, extended his hand with a smile, and introduced himself.

When Liu Sheng heard someone knocking on the dojo’s gate, he had no choice but to set down the ingredients he was preparing for dinner and open it.

With that thought in mind, Liu Sheng took the last bamboo sword from the basket and held it casually in his hand.

Hanzō knew only that Yahiko was the leader of the Akatsuki. Thus, when he saw Yahiko dead, he was delighted. Narrowing his eyes, he let out a long breath, believing that Nagato would no longer be worth worrying about.

Yang Chen also picked up the microphone and began to sing. He was just as impressive. His voice was so beautiful that he sounded like a professional singer—and even better than one.

“Perhaps Uncle went to train with Uncle Dai,” Ye Feng suggested. Although he knew perfectly well what had happened, the words he spoke were another matter entirely.

For that reason, Yutian put those thoughts aside. He still could not confront Hongjun directly. Though he could provoke the other Saints now, he would not fight them outright. Otherwise, provoking Hongjun would create a problem far from easy to resolve.

If they ever had the chance—even if it meant sharing no more than a fleeting affair with Tongtian—they would have considered themselves blessed beyond three lifetimes. Some might even have taken pride in it.

A whirlwind filled with violent wind-elemental energy swept outward, gathering with explosive force before shooting toward Chen.

Onstage, Atobe stood in formal attire with a microphone in his hand, speaking from the heart to the students of Shonan Middle School below. Whenever his emotions deepened, his voice rose noticeably.

As for rigorous training, that was even more out of the question. Liu Sheng had transmigrated into a body, not merely sent his soul across worlds. This body was the same ordinary human body he had possessed on Earth. Its potential doomed him to remain incapable of attaining the overwhelming combat prowess of a martial artist from the world of pirates, no matter how hard he trained. Otherwise, superhuman beings would have been commonplace on Earth long ago.

“This sword was forged through tempering with a hundred poisons, and it is called Poison. Infuse it with spiritual power, and it will respond to your energy. Anyone it touches will either die or be gravely wounded,” Qing Siling said with satisfaction.