Chapter 284

“Roar—”

The lion’s roar shook the ears.

A lump of meat pulp slid from its lips, mixed with bone fragments and scraps of fabric.

Clearly, this was not normal meat.

It belonged to some evolved primate.

Such as—humans.

Clang!

Accompanied by the loud clang of the iron cage and the sound of the lock opening.

The page and Wu Wang stood outside the door.

A flash of lightning struck, trying to stop Luo’s release of the ninjutsu, but with a wet thud, the sand shield before him was pierced clean through by the lightning technique.

Yet at this moment, an evil aura emanated from within their bodies for reasons unknown.

At that moment, a beast-like engine roar drew their attention.

But Lin Rou gave no reply at all, just stared blankly at the screen at the pig.

Since Zhang Qi last expelled the dark substances from Feng Lu and the others, many had begun inquiring about Zhang Qi.

Since last year’s brief encounter with Jiang Changsheng at the hotel on Wan Island, Wang Fei had become even more open, openly expressing her affection for Jiang Changsheng in every setting.

Yang Yaguang’s greatest regret was not being able to perform at the 50th anniversary reunion; when he competed for the recitation role back then, he lost to Gao Yuan and Cui Peng.

Ning En wolfed it all down, then finally tilted her head back to drain the last of the black pottery pot of beet tomato soup.

With no other choice, and out of curiosity to experience it, Chen Yufeng hid in a deserted corner and changed his gear.

“Thank you, Brother Luo! You must not have much of this drink yourself—yet you gave it to us, we’re truly grateful!” Ye Chen drank it all and looked at me sincerely.

Chen Yufeng waved his hands and effortlessly gripped the blades in their hands; though the Ox and Horse Demons possessed immense strength, no matter how hard they pulled, they could not wrench the blades free.

He knew he had only fused three lower-grade Profound Art techniques—how could he possibly produce a top-grade Celestial Art? The gap between them was simply too vast.

Unable to resist their enthusiasm, Gan Liang and Jiang Yuyan reluctantly raised their cups and drank a ceremonial toast.

“Zihan, ignore them—go back and rest early,” Su Baoyue pulled Xia Zihan’s hand.

Then a figure leapt down from a large tree to the west, walking slowly toward the group.

“You too, leave. Don’t tell anyone about today’s events—you know the organization’s rules,” Chou Zhengyang glanced coldly at Murong Qingjue.

“Good, I’ll have Liu Sihan send a car right away,” Gan Liang nodded, then pulled out his phone and called Liu Sihan.

Because a few of those glowing beads were sparsely embedded in the wall cracks, I realized I had been here before.

Although Elder Li understood that Murong Chunfeng was merely bluffing and hadn’t actually destroyed his Ten Thousand Methods Hall, he had still lost the contest to the other, his strength inferior.

“Why won’t you speak?” Di Yue Qianjue’s eyebrows furrowed slightly—how could anyone interact like this?

From the stone platform before Taihe Hall to the three-tiered staircase of dozens of steps, all Daoists remained silent.

Su Hang refused to repeatedly recount this episode; she didn’t need to vent her emotions—each retelling, each memory, was cruelty to herself.

But if Lu Feiming lost, he certainly couldn’t afford to pay the bet—so he likely wouldn’t dare to wager at all. And if Lu Feiming refused to bet, his own face would be saved, while the other would be utterly humiliated.

With a slight bow, Ye Sange greeted politely: “Master Zhao, long admired.” Master Zhao Ruoshi returned the courtesy with the same gentle smile.