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Who could have guessed that the Hundred-Faced Nightmare would be dealt with personally by the giant red figure beyond the Panlong Dreamscape? It had nothing to do with He Lingchuan at all. By the time he came after the curse master, he was still in perfect condition and perfectly able to fight.
His opponents had been able to summon the Hundred-Faced Nightmare, hire the Fan brothers, and lay down one trap after another. It was a careful, meticulous setup.
If almost anyone else had been the one facing it, it would have been a dead end.
And yet He Lingchuan had survived it.
For Zhongsun Mou and the others, this was what it meant to make one wrong move and then keep going wrong, step after step.
And what a wrongful, frustrating mistake it was.
“Even if the curse master has probably fled far away by now, we still have to try chasing him.” He Lingchuan pulled out a broken chair leg from his storage ring and pointed at the bloodstains on it. “Smell it. Which way did he run?”
“…” He’s using me like a dog… How many times has this happened already? Jiao Yu could not even be bothered to argue anymore. It bent its head and sniffed carefully. “This man smokes too much. His blood reeks of tobacco.”
“No, no, I just took this out of the fire.” Is this fellow actually reliable or not?
“I’m...
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