Psychological Game

For some reason, the gravekeeper's gaze toward Wang Ye was filled with resentment, incredibly complicated.

This guy.

Ever since his first visit, he had been eyeing him.

The second time, he had scraped wax off the candles.

The third time, the table legs.

And now he was even mocking him for being weak. Even if he really was weaker than that evil thought, beating up a newly promoted Star Lord...

Apparently, he really couldn't do it.

If he had been capable of that, he would not have backed away when Li Xinghe had threatened to self-destruct.

When he had separated from that body back then, the flesh and blood had been saturated with evil aura, leaving him far weaker than the evil thought.

In other words, it seemed that he really could no longer defeat Wang Ye.

It was suffocating.

It had only been a few months, yet that little brat had already grown to this point.

Several times, the gravekeeper raised his hand, only to lower it gently in the end. With a helpless sigh, an aged voice suddenly appeared in Wang Ye's mind.

"Northeast. Three hundred kilometers."

Hearing that voice, Wang Ye grinned foolishly.

Then, without wasting even a second, he turned and ran. Once outside Shangjing City, he began sprinting for his life.

Although flying was perfectly ordinary at his current strength, it consumed too much energy, drew too much attention, and most importantly, was not as fast as running.

Unfortunately, the Mail Truck was not here. That thing did not seem slow either.

Hopefully, the gravekeeper had not lied to him.

Otherwise, he would go back and dismantle his rocking chair!

Maitreya opened his eyes uneasily. "I have a bad feeling."

"I feel it too."

Hearing Maitreya's words, the old monk sighed. The aura around