As Yang Ling pondered this, Yan Yishu and the others had already died.
It had happened effortlessly.
There had been no earth-shaking resistance, no desperate struggle to the death, and no sudden burst of power before death. There had been no surprises at all—not even a cry.
At the moment the Metropolitan City God dissipated,
they had only been at the Ninth Tier Peak, and their condition had already been extremely poor. Their fate had been sealed.
The ending was somewhat bleak.
Ten minutes earlier, they had still been brimming with vigor, locked in fierce battle.
They had even successfully suppressed Leng Quan and the others.
But ten minutes later,
they had already died and vanished from the world.
Without the slightest ripple.
"Damn it."
"That kid's in a bit of trouble." Yang Ling looked toward Jiang Qiao's direction and thought grimly.
At that moment,
the Mountain Ghost, who had killed Yan Yishu and the others,
acted as if he had merely done something insignificant. He lightly clapped his hands, turned his gaze toward Jiang Qiao dozens of miles away, and smiled. "This little brother looks unfamiliar. I presume you're the guest who came from beyond the heavens."
"You're different from what I imagined."
Jiang Qiao rose to his feet and looked at the Mountain Ghost from afar, speaking calmly.
"You look more like a living person than the living do."
"You even have qi and blood."
"Of course." Hearing Jiang Qiao's words, the Mountain Ghost replied matter-of-factly, "Because I am a living person."
"Oh?"
"You think you're a living person?"
Jiang Qiao smiled.
"I have the memories of a living person and the thoughts of a living person. My qi and blood are even more vigorous than those of most living people." The Mountain Ghost spoke languidly. "Why shouldn't