Volume 1, Chapter 39: The Wicked Experiment

"Baka-yaru! Too noisy! Keep it up and see if I don't dissect you for my research!"

A figure emerged from the fifth wooden hut. Dressed in a white lab coat with white gloves, his hair was a chaotic mess, and he glared at the team leader of the Japanese delegation with an expression of pure fury.

"I, I... all of our compatriots are dead!"

Ignoring the shift in the atmosphere, the middle-aged man looked at Wang Hao and Zhou Shan with deep concern.

After seeing Shan Mu leave, Taoist Tianmu suppressed the pain in his heart. The Tiangang Immortal Sword was fine, but it simply could not compare to the Heavenly Tribulation Umbrella. They could not afford to wait any longer; scouts from the Yellow Turban Army had repeatedly encroached upon Qinzhou City and engaged the city's troops in several skirmishes.

If not for that, Chu He would never have gone out of his way to manufacture alcohol to prevent the Deep Abyss Guard from suffering infections during training or while attacking mountain bandits.

One must understand that the jade pagoda was carved from top-tier, if not supreme-grade, black jade. If put up for auction, fetching over ten million would be no problem at all.

George had just finished speaking when he noticed Demos and Amy, who were at the back of the group, each approaching a flower bud on the ground. They intended to crush them underfoot as if it were nothing more than a game.

After being left behind by Wanying for about half an incense stick's time, Liu Chenyang prepared to return to his room to rest. Just as he reached the corner of the second floor, a figure flashed by downstairs. Liu Chenyang narrowed his eyes in alert—it was that familiar figure he had encountered time and again.

The eyes hidden behind the mask locked onto Lin Wei's gaze, as if this were a reunion spanning across infinite space and time.

Following another dull, explosive roar, the magical treasure in Wu Cheng's hand shattered, leaving him with a gruesome wound that nearly claimed his life. Seeing that Wu Cheng was on the verge of death, Elder Zhao of the Heavenly Profound Sword Sect couldn't help but sigh softly and speak to Wang Hao.

From this, he had long realized to what extent the cultivation world had descended into chaos; the fairness people craved had long been lost.

Old Man Cheng was not blinded by the sand. His senses were too sharp, and any reaction from Zhang Wu could not escape his perception. But when a handful of sand is thrown at you, you have to raise your hand to shield your eyes, and that action inevitably costs you a fraction of a second.

Under the erosion of the sulfuric acid, the cage of the Eternal Heavenly Dao was slowly being corroded, gradually collapsing and rotting away.

Hearing Monk Wuchen’s impatient tone, Cihang Pudu’s body instantly tensed. Secretly forming a incantation, he suddenly struck, hurling a string of Buddhist prayer beads at Monk Wuchen.

"Of course you have to explain it yourself. Do you really expect me to keep cleaning up your messes?" she said irritably.

The Golden Core cultivator had no time to dodge. Struck by a streak of silver light, a "pfft!" sound echoed as his chest was pierced through, exploding instantly. With a miserable shriek, he collapsed to the ground.

"I didn't truly want to force you to think about it; I was only afraid you might regret it," Zhou Zimeng said calmly.

"Something came up today, so I apologize for the neglect. Since you have all come to my Yunji City, tonight I shall be your host. Let us feast and drink until we are all dead drunk!" Yunji laughed heartily as he walked in, heading straight to the center seat that the players had prepared for him.

Furthermore, he had been admiring her as she swayed above him, her long, straight black hair whipping back and forth... Jia Cong felt like crying but had no tears. It had always been he who enjoyed the taste of conquest, but now, he had finally experienced the taste of being conquered.

Even in the highly developed society of his past life, collecting debts required more than just talk; very little could be recovered by merely moving one's lips.

"That's not it, Mark. The humans there are different from the ones here. They consider themselves gods and possess technology no less advanced than the Intelligent Mainframe; in some aspects, they even surpass it." As he spoke, Robert's eyes burned with a fervent light.

In the villages of the late Qing Dynasty, there were no electric lights. The common folk were very frugal with oil lamps and candles; at night, besides making children, there was no nightlife at all. Once the sun went down, the entire village was basically nothing but a chorus of snoring.