The Eight Trigrams Formation of the nine-square grid.
It was shocking.
Lin Jiangxian was treating almost everyone without distinction.
Someone raised a fist and roared, "We're fighting for the Elder Council! How can you lock us in the formation too!?"
"Are we just cannon fodder the Elder Council hired!?"
"Let us out! Let us out!"
Faced with the shouting, some people began to waver.
Lin Jiangxian's disciple said, "Master, if this continues..."
Lin Jiangxian's face was cold. "Tell them to prepare to capture Yan Zhao Sect's Three Heroes alive."
"Yes."
From the very beginning, Lin Jiangxian had known that this formation would collectively weaken everyone.
That had been his goal as well. From the start, he had understood clearly that Yan Zhao Sect's Three Heroes could not be judged as ordinary low-level martial artists.
This world had gone mad—from top to bottom, inside and out, from the Elder Council to the Four Great Families, and everyone else besides...
They seemed to have completely forgotten how Hun Tiangang had once led Old Man Wu and dominated this world.
They had been almost omnipotent, meddling in everything.
Whatever goal they wanted, they had to achieve it, and they always could.
Five powerful and savage enforcers, one shameless bastard with no bottom line who could not be killed, plus one hypocrite draped in the cloak of morality, always smiling politely as he spoke to people of destiny, morality, responsibility, and mission.
This group, with Hun Tiangang at its center, had toyed with this world at will. It was as if the world were a miniature globe in their hands; if they wanted it to spin faster, it spun faster, and if they wanted it to spin slower, they forced it to decelerate.
If they were having fun, they could toss it out and