I'm Not Dead Yet

Ghost Scythe Douluo was utterly enraged, his eyes wide.

His gaze resembled that of a rabid wolf, as though he wanted to swallow Tang Lan whole.

It was as if blazing flames were about to burst from his eyes, and this fury seemed capable of burning everything around him to ashes.

His face instantly flushed red, like a fully ripened tomato.

The veins on his forehead bulged like twisting earthworms, throbbing violently in a terrifying sight.

He gritted his teeth.

His voice seemed to be forced through the gaps between them.

It was filled with boundless fury and killing intent.

"How dare you provoke me like this? Today, I will make sure you die without a burial ground, to vent the hatred in my heart!"

Every word was like a massive bomb, brimming with an aura of destruction.

Ghost Scythe Douluo was completely engulfed by rage, his body trembling faintly.

That tremble contained an uncontrollable, violent power.

It seemed that in the next instant, he would break free of his restraints, rush forward, and tear Tang Lan to pieces, making him pay a painful price for his arrogance.

As a Titled Douluo,

he was always revered in ordinary times, with countless admiring gazes following him wherever he went.

Those gazes were filled with awe and worship.

He was like a god standing high above, receiving the worship of all.

Yet today, he had been humiliated so severely by a mere Two-Ring Great Spirit Master.

This was simply a merciless trampling of his dignity, an open challenge to his authority.

He felt incomparably furious and humiliated, the flames of anger blazing within him.

They seemed ready to burn this ignorant brat before him to ashes.

His once-proud face was now twisted by rage.

That arrogant expression had also been replaced by