Chapter 402: The End

"Go back to West Eight Nation with you? That pissant little place of yours — what's there worth going back for?"

A flicker of contempt crossed Qin Bei's eyes.

The representative of West Eight Nation's face turned rather ugly.

But it smoothed over quickly.

After today.

As long as they captured this kid.

And figured out the secrets on his body.

Especially that belt.

As long as they could work it out.

So that every citizen of West Eight Nation could possess Tier 9 strength.

Then when that time came.

West Eight Nation would be the strongest.

No… no, that's not right!

If it was him.

He brought such tremendous power to West Eight Nation.

It would only be reasonable for him to become the new ruler of West Eight Nation, wouldn't it?

Thinking of this, the heart of the West Eight Nation representative grew burning hot.

"What are you looking at?"

Qin Bei wore a thoroughly baffled look,

then without a word, raised the Locust Sword and the briefcase blade.

He transformed straight into a green flash of lightning and slashed toward the front.

The jet-black dragon let out a roar.

It thrust out a claw directly.

And tore at the scorpion with sword-like fangs.

The scorpion gave a cold snort, the red hair on its brow trembling slightly.

"Three Thousand Red Threads."

The hair flew.

Like a volley of arrows, it shot toward Qin Bei.

"Shining Mode! Activate!"

Qin Bei murmured softly.

The white core wrapped in a blue halo on his chest.

Suddenly began to blaze with dazzling light.

The last eight crystals drifted one by one before Qin Bei.

They fired lasers straight ahead, shooting toward the hair in front of them.

The collision of the two produced a sound like clashing steel.

Then they locked in midair.

Neither side's attack retreated in the slightest.

Just like that, they froze in place.

One of the West Eight Nation people's eyes lit up.

With a furious roar.

Blood-qi power wrapped around his entire body.

Like a little red figure, he charged toward Qin Bei.

He clenched his fist tight.

His gaze burned hot.

A flash of contempt passed through Qin Bei's eyes — "Nine-five-seven" — a Tier 8 martial artist.

How dare he?

The light of the eight crystals grew even more vigorous.

And Qin Bei broke away from the crystals directly.

With a light leap, he rose into the air.

The briefcase blade in his hand was hurled toward the front.