Chapter 120: Dreaming in Dreams

Indeed, after Tian Yunrui learned of this, he didn’t ask for reasons—he grabbed Li Kang by the neck and punched him twice, making him yell in pain and beg for mercy.

Of course, Tian Yunrui wasn’t really going to hurt him; Li Kang’s screams were exaggerated for show.

But it sent the entire operations department into fits of laughter.

This was precisely why Shen Siyuan loved his current work environment—everyone was relatively straightforward; though minor friction occasionally arose during work, it was mostly…

Because she had risen early, her hair hadn’t been pinned up—it hung softly on either side as she bent to play with the wolf pup, her black locks cascading down, making her skin appear even paler.

He was weary from what lay ahead, but at that moment, the elevator behind him slowly opened—someone else was arriving.

A deafening boom echoed as thick black smoke rose from the left valley; a dark silhouette, like a kite, tumbled downward into the ravine.

The steel city trembled; thunder burned the metal red. All forces converged as a lead-gray serpent coiled slowly upward around the central tower, its eyes forged from lightning fixed upon this place, then the wind carried its call.

Because the treaty could not be fulfilled, massive refunds and compensation payments were made—the once-celebrated idol, valued at over 1.5 billion, was falling from his pedestal.

In an instant, Xiao Ling fired a fingertip beam infused with thunder and spatial law, striking toward You Yu’s skull.

A false god created by mortals slain by a true deity—using such a grand tale to conclude this war seemed fitting enough.

“Alright, you decide your own path. Even if you don’t choose this road, we’ll protect you well!” With that, Qin Tianyu led Han Lingxue out.

Of course, this didn’t include the big fat man—he walked in leering at him and slammed a gun on the table, warning her she’d die horribly if she refused to invest.

This is no longer the war of decades past—no commander would dare, like feudal armies, openly fire upon his own troops to kill the enemy.

Aunt Chen: We don’t know you, we’ve never harmed you—why are you writing this about us? Why?

Her furious outburst drew many people over to ask what was going on.

But this time, the zombie ants didn’t all get swept to the bottom of the stairs—they clung tightly to the walls, and Mu Yi could even see the fury glowing in their eyes.

No matter whether Ye Tongtong’s personality was weak or strong, as a mother, hearing such words, she couldn’t help but be heartbroken.

Everywhere were moonstone crystals and luminescent powder; the cave, which should have been pitch-black, was as bright as daytime outside.

Of course, while Liu Jingyun’s heart burned with rage, the three shadowy hands of Senluo Palace were no better off—each face was grim, eyes dark as if ready to devour.

“You’re annoying!” Song Jiaqi punched his chest playfully, yet her heart felt sweet as if coated in honey.

Tong Xinya struggled for a while but couldn’t break free, assuming it was just the wall she was feeling—so she stopped resisting entirely; after all, the wall felt warm, almost comforting.

Taking a deep breath, the Grand Elder’s heart leapt to his throat; the chilling scene before him stirred every nerve in his body, his mind heavy as a boulder crashing into his chest.

The coffin lid, which others had failed to open by every means possible, became trivial in his hands—he simply pushed gently, and the lid opened.

Yang Hongying had rushed out in haste, yet still hadn’t seen her elder brother; she thought, this man sure is in a hurry.

His voice grew softer, yet those who heard it shivered involuntarily and answered in unison: “Yes.”