Boar God ignored Zhao Ritian and began calculating on his own.
He calculated over and over, again and again, his expression growing more and more strained, his mood more and more depressed. But every now and then, he even gave a bitter smile—one that looked both gratified and desolate.
Zhao Ritian said, "Can you actually do it or not? Even my master isn't as troublesome as you."
"Of course I can!"
Boar God snapped, "I'm the strongest of the Twelve War Gods! The most handsome! The most... what the hell would you know?!"
Zhao Ritian did not dare talk back to him, but he was not convinced either. He just scratched his head and fiddled with his ears.
Boar God calculated for another while, then finally said angrily, "Forget it. No point."
Zhao Ritian said, "You can't actually calculate it at all, can you?"
Boar God looked at Zhao Ritian. "No—I can! I just think all this calculating back and forth... interfering with the fate of people in the present world... doesn't fit my... position as Boar God."
Zhao Ritian nodded with his lips pursed. "When Long Aotian couldn't beat me, he also said he couldn't be bothered to lower himself to my level."
Boar God looked at Zhao Ritian. "Do you even know how to hold a conversation?"
"I do."
Boar God said angrily, "I have my own ideas and designs. Some things only we Important Figures need to know among ourselves. There's no need to explain them to little brats like you who don't understand a damn thing. Even if I explained, you wouldn't get it, and I'd just be wasting my breath, understand? You people are on the first level, while I am already on the fifth!"
Zhao Ritian scratched his head. "Are you really an immortal?"