Volume 1 Chapter 37: Felling with the Slope

Woof, woof, woof!

The barking of Little Hei came from ahead. Wang Dong followed closely, but as he went, his brow furrowed. It was not that he was tired or unable to keep up, but that Little Hei was running further and further away.

A great reputation is never without merit. Clearly, this young man, the disciple of the Southern Emperor, could not be the first type. That left only the second.

Wang Pengcheng continued to follow Hei Zi, trailing behind him silently like a shadow.

When we all heard the company commander announce that we were about to have a military exercise, we cheered and hollered with excitement.

Zhang Ye was currently only at the first level of the Soul Division stage, though his true strength was slightly superior to an average cultivator at the second level of the same stage. Compared to Yi Huading, he was a full three levels behind.

Just then, the spiritual energy of heaven and earth began to churn in chaos. A violent aura, one that did not belong to Ling Qian, radiated from his body, instantly blasting Li Zongyan and Luo Yi dozens of miles away. The next moment, a thin crack appeared on Ling Qian's forehead, like the primordial dawn of chaos, symbolizing a new beginning.

As Han Xue spoke, she reached out to push Li Tian's arm. Unexpectedly, after being scolded by her, Li Tian stopped playing dead. His arm shot up, and he grabbed Han Xue's wrist. With a forceful tug, he pulled her down.

Although it seemed they had held those fellows off, the situation remained grim. After all, those cultivators were locals and could afford to wear them down, whereas they were people from the modern world; if they did not leave by a certain time, they would never be able to leave at all.

The twenty-first century is an era where poverty is mocked while vice is overlooked, a time where everyone has lost their sense of shame. It is an age rampant with sanctimonious hypocrites, with everyone acting contemptible. You tell me, what exactly am I, Huang Yan, holding onto?

Stripped bare, Bei Yanji walked over to the bed and lay across it, becoming a vision of soul-stirring beauty. Furthermore, her posture was quite provocative; she lay half-sideways with her hips slightly arched, as if waiting to be plucked.

In the center of the hall, Ye Sanlang was reprimanding Xing Zhengtian. From his intermittent, angry words, it seemed that evildoers had used incense to drug the banquet guests. Fortunately, he had sensed it early and held his breath, preventing the villains from succeeding, though unfortunately, they had escaped.

"No, Brother Haonan, I was wrong, I was really wrong! I’ll take my men and leave immediately, I won’t dare to offend the..." Tiger Head retreated, his legs trembling, but before he could finish his sentence, the machine gun in Chen Haonan’s hands spat out a brilliant tongue of fire.

"That is if you can even make it to the next round. I do not deign to associate with dogs." Feng Du picked up the broom to continue sweeping, while simultaneously observing the contest between the three groups.

I asked curiously. He slowly raised his head, wearing a twisted and ugly mask. His eyes were no longer golden, as if all dragon essence had vanished, replaced by black smoke. He moved his neck and bared his sharp claws at me.

Lu Xiangsheng, a man who shone with brilliant light at the end of the Ming Dynasty, entered the military in this timeline as well. When Sun Chuanting organized the Southern Army, he led a force of over twenty thousand men to join it.

Feng Du’s words produced an unexpected effect. If people had been laughing at him before, they were now filled with respect and shame for their earlier behavior. With a man of such humble origins and a disability, what right did they have to mock him? Merely because he appeared different?