Chapter 822: The Silent Majority

Universal Records, once one of the old-guard giants, now seems to be falling behind.

Previously, with Warner Records as the bottom-dweller, they still had room to maneuver; but when Zhou Jianhui pulled out Zhou Yi and Sun Yanzi as a gold card and a silver card, Universal became the second-to-last among the major international giants—

After BMG was merged by Sony, it is now the last.

The top dog Tan Yonglin has lost his former prowess.

“This is the battlefield; leave the fighting to me and the Young Master. You retreat to the rear—we’ll handle it here, rest assured.” Yu Ning declared with resolve.

In the Demon Realm, the Demon Star continued his usual campaigns, seeking pure demon blood.

“Master, this…” Murong Ziying was stunned again by Li Ling’s generosity; just seeing the three characters “Great Expansion Sword Art” on the cover, he felt it was connected to Li Ling’s own technique.

How could that be? Jie Lan silently mocked her own foolish thought—if she had truly met him, someone so inferior, she wouldn’t just forget him; she’d have taken action against him long ago.

Cheng Feng frowned slightly, looking down at the black pig’s disrespectful behavior, his eyes flashing cold ice. The black pig knew his temper but dared not let go, only offering an awkward smile to ease the tension. Cheng Feng ignored him and flew straight toward the western part of the city on his sword.

“Your humble servant greets the Empress, may Your Majesty live ten thousand years, ten thousand years, ten thousand ten thousand years!” Ru Mo, seeing the Empress with a dragon-and-phoenix hairpin in her coiffure down the corridor, hurried forward and bowed deeply.

Lu Qingyun, furious, passed through the formation and stepped out of the cave. He saw a youth dressed in mottled gray, appearing no more than twenty. But Lu Qingyun instantly recognized his true form: a spirit leopard, at the late Nascent Soul stage.

The demonic souls gathered entirely onto the Shadowless Sword; having absorbed too much soul energy at once, the sword grew agitated. It took a long time before it calmed down.

Xiao Wei was sharp enough—when Qiu Longxuan glanced at Luo Chong, she understood the meaning at once, her expression shifting slightly.

“I want your Shatter Heaven Spear,” Lu Qingyun said calmly. In his mind, he could never forget the third level of the Futo Pagoda, where the mural depicted Futian holding a spear, a peerless figure wielding the artifact of a Supreme Stronghold—using such a relic would greatly increase his chances of victory in the coming battle against the Heavenly Cloud Immortal Realm.

This was no small matter—he had only just begun cultivating this technique, the core essence of the Heavenly Peng Extreme Speed, a secret passed down only within the Heavenly Peng clan, inaccessible to outsiders.

How could he know that as soon as he led his troops out of Yangping Village, soldiers from Youxiong Country followed him, keeping constant watch? After Bai Feng set the ambush and departed, Xuan Yuan had already led his men to ambush the seven hundred on the earth cliff—and had been waiting for him there.

Crown Prince Jun Yusu watched Zi Chu dart into the inner chamber like a rabbit and followed. As the sound of drawers being ransacked echoed, he sucked in a sharp breath.

In this abandoned factory, Zheng Ke had stored his firepower—full of weapons, explosives, and more—but now, under the blast of two hand grenades, everything had been reduced to ashes.

The brown bear’s expression turned grim; he had no choice but to summon his life weapon, spitting out a golden fish and decisively meeting the invisible force.

Since she’d used every trick she had, she’d done all she could. Even if the deal failed, she needed a way to withdraw—unless she could stop the signing, the aftermath would become far more complicated.

She didn’t care about legal expertise, so her tears now must stem from guilt over the affair affecting herself.

A top-tier expert at the third level, when unleashing his full power, radiates astonishing might and aura—this punch was incomparable to the previous ones.

Xia Tianmeng glanced at him, didn’t refuse, reached into his pocket, took out his phone, saw the flashing words “Home,” and lifted it slightly.

The golden dots totaled eight, each emitting streaks of golden light that rotated through the void along some unseen pattern, making it impossible to discern what treasure they were.

Jiang Hao had long received the Eight-Nine Profound Art from Yang Jian, but until now he had only studied and contemplated it, never truly begun cultivation.

Xuan Yuan Jinpeng had already scanned the cloud-boat thoroughly and found no trace of Han Yueying; he couldn’t help asking.

The Merfolk, though fond of peace and averse to worldly strife, had always lived in seclusion here.

Just as they took their first step, the door creaked open gently—everyone froze, halting mid-motion, eyes fixed ahead.

“You—you don’t really want a child, do you?” Zhao Xin asked nervously, as the scene fell silent.

In everyone’s mind, Wei Cuiling had always been confident, proud, and full of fighting spirit—how could she so easily give up?

Now she could only crouch on a branch, anxiously watching the strange insect vanish back into the earth.

“I saw you and panicked—that’s why I ran,” the stranger quickly fabricated a lie.

The smell of blood, the stench of charred flesh, and the screams didn’t make my scalp tingle, but they were deeply unpleasant.

Ji Siming devoured the food on his plate with difficulty, swallowing hard—he felt everything today seemed undercooked.

In the hotel corridor stood a rock garden, its flowing water startlingly lifelike; she leaned on the railing, gazing absentmindedly.

I couldn’t help but rejoice—Master Du, already gifted, had been trapped for decades, yet managed to penetrate the mystery under these circumstances. His cultivation will surely surge forward.

The meeting spot was near my home; across the street, I faintly saw Mei Zi sitting on the flowerbed’s railing. Just one street apart, yet I couldn’t take a single step forward.

Luo Ziliang’s series of decisions led many to believe he had surrendered, capitulated. Such an easy loser was no longer seen as a serious threat—everyone relaxed completely.

On Sunday afternoon, Tan Haicheng called: the company had rented him an apartment, and he was preparing to move.

Zhong Yue couldn’t hide his disappointment; his pain was plainly etched on his face. Tong En gave him no chance, and gave herself none either—she had sealed off every retreat.

At this moment, Liu Zining rose and came over, eyes red and swollen like peaches, face gaunt and weary. Chen Lin whispered that Liu Zining had stayed by Liu Zian’s bedside all night without sleeping.

“Bah, what trouble? If you need anything, just say so—I live in that room.” Aunt Lin pointed to a room on the first floor, a guest room.

Thinking of this, Mu Xifeng moved his foot, leapt into the air, eyes blazing as he scanned the surrounding land—then spotted a town thirty million miles to the south. His eyes lit up; he unleashed his utmost speed and shot toward the town.