Chapter 341: Better Than Myself (Requesting Monthly Votes)

On October 10, 2010, Xu Ke chose this string of zeros to power on.

The convoy rolled steadily into Tianmo.

The entire startup process banned media; filming was fully sealed and confidential.

In truth, Tianmo, though a natural desert spanning thirteen hundred mu, was not far from the capital—no more than a hundred kilometers away; Qi Hao drove there from his home in the Second Ring Road in just over an hour.

Xu Ke originally wanted to invite Daoist Suiyun to perform

What kind of ruthless determination would lead someone to strike down a child they had watched grow up? Especially when this child had once saved them and earned them countless merits.

Lu Youcai’s face turned cold—not because his superior was petty or vindictive, but because it was a hint: don’t think the authorities don’t know your movements.

Su Ju’an waited a while longer; the height grew even colder, so she blew warm air onto her hands. Had the Blood Demon Lord failed to show?

But soon, she and Hao Huiru—who had been approaching Mu Qingyan in the same way—discovered a tragic fact: Mu Qingyan had begun gambling heavily.

She didn’t notice that Xue Xi, at her leg, rolled her eyes secretly at the sight of the young man with the surname Fan.

Ye Kuang’s gaze returned from the green leaf; when he looked inside the ice coffin, his expression shattered—he instinctively stepped back several paces.

Jiang Xing marveled: ordinary humans lived roughly a hundred to two hundred years, and those who reached two hundred were exceedingly rare; most lived only about one hundred fifty years, even with regular routines. Yet he hadn’t expected that Life Soul Masters, upon breaking through to the Life Vein stage, could instantly double their lifespan.

Ye Kuang’s pupils turned pure black, like demonic eyes, gazing down upon all living things.

She slowed her advance, noting the nearby intersection was “Zhangjia Road”; minutes later, the sign for Zhangjia Road appeared again.

“Too late.” Mei Ying sneered, curling her lips. To her, these people’s lives were no more than ants—she didn’t care, didn’t care at all.

This was no longer a trench warfare; automatic weapons versus the Type 38 rifle—the superiority was obvious. The once one-sided Japanese massacre of Nationalist troops had reversed into a company-wide slaughter of the Japanese.

When Chang Changqing finished speaking, Xin Fengzi’s expression sank completely.

A golden streak pierced through space, appearing instantly before Wei Chen, colliding directly with the black beam shot by the lead black-clothed youth.

“Pure Innocence Ring, intact body, data unknown. Preliminary valuation—five currency units.” Compared to Townsend’s inner feelings, this valuation—higher than the Dawn Torch—wasn’t even fair.

As the shout faded, intense, blinding golden light erupted from behind Wei Chen, coalescing into two massive golden wings.

Human numbers were vast, with countless gatherings every year—even toddlers could list dozens. But the highest-ranking, most significant, most influential gatherings were known to few, for only the powerful could attend: the “Annual Global Affairs Consultation,” abbreviated as “Annual Meeting.”

Wei Chen narrowed his eyes, watching Xue Dong and the others vanish into the forest depths. Based on his knowledge of Xue Dong, the man was cautious by nature—he would never recklessly risk himself.

I already said you have no right to teach them, yet you still insist on charging headfirst into it—why bother?

When Tu Tui Yuan Xian’er’s ugly body lunged at Zhong Lan like a pig, Zhong Lan shut her eyes, tears streaming down her face.

Now, the battle between the Song Dynasty and these cannibal tribes differed by an entire era in tactics; when the tribal warriors charged toward the Song lines, they destroyed their own formation from sheer excitement before the Song troops even advanced.