Zhou Jin's strength surged through his entire body, his gaze fierce and vicious, faintly carrying an indescribable trace of Yin Qi.
Iron Mountain Tiger and the other two wore cold expressions as well, each activating his magic artifact.
The atmosphere within the desolate village instantly became taut as drawn bows and unsheathed swords.
Just as both sides faced off, on the verge of coming to blows, a somewhat hoarse yet clear voice rang out:
"Why are you all so tense? Put away your magic artifacts."
Wearing a Ghost Face, Mo Hua spoke indifferently.
Iron Mountain Tiger and the other two hesitated for a moment before each putting away his magic artifact.
Zhou Jin's expression remained somewhat gloomy. After a moment, the force around him gradually subsided as well. Looking at Mo Hua, he said in a low voice:
"I... lied to you..."
Mo Hua gave an "Mm."
Zhou Jin frowned. "You don't care?"
Mo Hua said unconcernedly, "Who in this world doesn't have a few secrets? Besides, we came here seeking wealth. What does it have to do with us whether you're from Little Zhou Village or not?"
Zhou Jin fell silent.
"So," Mo Hua looked at him and asked, "you really are from this desolate village?"
Zhou Jin's gaze flickered. After a moment, he sighed. "That's right."
Mo Hua was not surprised, as if he had already known. He merely shook his head and said:
"It's not that I want to criticize you, but this was far too crude. Since you work in the business of going underground, you should at least change your name—at the very least, change your surname. How hard could it be to come up with an alias? Using this name is practically handing others something to hold against you."
Zhou Jin gave a bitter