Men with stories were often difficult to deal with, because such men usually had wisdom and hidden depths.
"You're not familiar with me either, so why are you waiting for me here?"
Sect Master Tongtian shrugged.
"You're indeed not familiar with me, but I'm very familiar with you. To meet you here, I've already waited a full hundred thousand years!"
The Masked Man finished speaking leisurely, then suddenly released an extraordinarily yin and gentle aura. It was like mercury slowly flowing through an underground river—cold, yet exceptionally forceful.
"You've been waiting here for me for a hundred thousand years?"
Sect Master Tongtian furrowed his brows. He truly couldn't imagine who would wait here for him for a hundred thousand years.
The problem was, how many years had Sect Master Tongtian actually been in the Primordial World?
In any case, ever since he transmigrated into the Primordial World, it had certainly been less than a hundred thousand years. It hadn't even been ten thousand years!
Could this Masked Man in front of him have something wrong with his head?
How had he calculated those hundred thousand years?
"Of course I've been waiting here for you for a hundred thousand years. But for you, it may have been one attempt after another—starting over after each failure, then starting over again after the next failure!"
The Masked Man sighed softly.
"I originally thought you wouldn't appear again. I was just preparing to leave, but I never expected you to suddenly show up. What an enormous surprise!"
By the time the Masked Man reached this point, he couldn't help laughing. His laughter was exceedingly arrogant!
A flash of white light appeared!
A bloody hole opened in the Masked Man's chest, and his heart had vanished without a trace.
This was an ability Tongtian had