"Elder Yin, what is it? Could it be that it does not even compare to the Ten Core Competencies of Martial Soul?"
Guang Ling Douluo said with his arms folded.
He had never believed Su Chen could come up with any sort of theoretical research. Unlike talent, which one was born with, such things required vast amounts of time, systematic study, knowledge, experience, and trial and error to accumulate.
What kind of knowledge could a six-year-old possibly have?
Unless he had researched it in his previous life and remembered it in this one.
Amused by the thought, he could not help glancing at Su Chen with a grin. "Elder Yin, just say it. I am sure our number one genius can take it. Hahaha!"
"Stop talking! Shut up!"
An angry shout rang through the hall, coming from none other than the old man called Elder Yin.
He impatiently waved a hand, continuing to stare intently at the papers in his hands while muttering to himself.
Guang Ling Douluo's laughter came to an abrupt halt, and his handsome face twisted at once.
Damn old bastard. If you were not acquainted with the old Pope, I would kill you myself.
Elder Yin's sudden fury stirred an uproar in the hall, but in the next moment, everyone realized something. Their expressions changed as they looked uncertainly at the stack of papers, then at the still utterly composed Su Chen.
Wait.
Could there really be something there?
Chrysanthemum Douluo clenched his fists, trembling faintly with excitement. Bibi Dong appeared calm, but in truth, she was gripping the Pope's scepter tightly.
Guang Ling's expression darkened as well.
He looked at the two soul bones, and a sense of foreboding suddenly rose in his heart.
For a moment, the only sound in the grand hall was