"You motherfucking wave-breaker, where did you come from? You scratched my ride! This king will blow your chrysanthemum apart right now!" Zhao Yu pointed his ancient sword and charged toward Tong Sanjin at an outrageously fast speed!
My forehead was covered in black lines. Zhao Yu had been hanging around the pleasure quarters too much lately. Everything he said reeked of modern depravity.
"You bastard, what does 'blow the chrysanthemum apart' mean?" Tong Sanjin was stunned. He probably hadn't expected that merely grazing the vehicle and leaving such a tiny scratch would make the man fly into such a rage. But he was a guard, after all, and well versed in fighting enemies, so he turned the tip of his spear toward Zhao Yu.
"You dare call this king a bastard? I'll beat you to death!" Seeing that this little guard actually dared resist, Zhao Yu grew even angrier and brought his ancient sword down on him.
Tong Sanjin gave a sinister smile and slammed his spear against the treasured sword.
I thought the faint scratch on the car door could be fixed with just another layer of wax and wasn't really a big deal. But Zhao Yu, who treated his BMW like a second wife, probably didn't see it that way.
The Corpse King Zhao was broad and heavy, and sure enough, he possessed immense strength. There was no way that redirected spearhead could hold him back. With a clang, he forcibly pressed the spear back toward Tong Sanjin!
Tong Sanjin was startled. Even though they were both Corpse Kings, Zhao Yu's strength—already a cut above others of the same level—was truly terrifying. His expression changed drastically. He had never imagined that his first opponent would be such an unyielding iron wall.
Zhao Yu was the king of Corpse