"All right, this is where we part ways."
Two warriors dressed in black, with even colder auras and eyes sharp as iron blades, stopped Dean's car.
Dean did not say anything more when he saw this.
Philia eagerly opened the rear door and got out, carrying the wondrous tools she needed for today's interview. The Western beauty in a high-collared gown stepped from the car, exuding a unique charm. Even amid the noisy guests and the blooming throng of women, this coldly alluring Western flower still stood head and shoulders above the rest.
Hmm?
Why were there so many people here? There were not many of those monsters created by the devil nearby, but there seemed to be quite a few women, and they all looked somewhat familiar. Had everyone besides him come to send their wives to assassinate someone for the sake of the plan?
Dean secretly observed them from inside the car, feeling puzzled.
He had just been about to turn the car around and leave.
When his eyes suddenly widened.
The warriors flanking his car lifted it straight into the air, leaving the tires dangling helplessly above the ground. The warrior holding up the car then smiled and spoke to Dean inside.
"You long-haired foreign devil who knows nothing of etiquette—the Immortal Master hasn't said you may leave."
Before Dean could think, a thick arm, its motion resembling the crushing jaws of a giant python, smashed through the car window. As Dean shrieked like a little girl whose skirt had been flipped up, the warrior swiftly dragged him out of the car! Dean struggled with all his might, but the arm gripping him seemed less like flesh and blood and more like terrifying refined-steel machinery!
Bang!
Dean, weighing more than two hundred pounds, was dragged out and tossed aside. The next moment, he slammed solidly into the marble paving of the flower bed, the pain making his vision go black.
After Dean finally managed to catch his breath and see what was before him, he nearly saw flames shoot from his eyes.
Lan Yi was right in front of him.
He lay on the ground like a toad. As always, Lan Yi was not stingy about displaying his divine might before the crowd. He floated leisurely in midair, looking down at the lump of rotten flesh tossed before him.
There had been a similar scene before his reincarnation.
One had to admit, fate was truly wondrous.
As long as one was burdened enough, one would naturally form a web of causality. Even after time restarted, some familiar events would still replay before one's eyes.
"You..." Dean was in too much pain to speak, much less get up.
He vaguely guessed that their plan had been exposed, but he did not dare think about it too deeply.
A few seconds later.
Philia suddenly walked gracefully and grandly to Lan Yi's side. Under everyone's gaze, her cold and alluring face blossomed into a smile. She rose onto her toes, then suddenly drew out an object and stabbed it into Lan Yi's shoulder.
The gleaming metal in her hand shone dazzlingly beneath the sunlight.
No one had expected this sudden attack. Quite a few of the women who had been invited or had come of their own accord today cried out in alarm, while others simply closed their eyes, unwilling to witness what came next.
Whoosh~
The dagger instantly pierced Lan Yi's shoulder.
Dean, sprawled on the ground, was overwhelmed with joy. It had worked! The crucifix dagger blessed by the Vatican Bishop—this evil mage would now die in agony!
But nothing happened.
Lan Yi did not move despite having been stabbed in the shoulder with ease. The patrolling warrior guards nearby did not intervene either, and even some of the party members and reporters present remained expressionless.
Clearly, this had all been planned.
Philia released her grip.
Under everyone's watchful eyes, the crucifix dagger that seemed to have pierced Lan Yi's shoulder dissolved the next moment amid wisps of silver-white radiance, breaking down into grains of sand too fine for the naked eye to distinguish. The dagger's tip had long since turned into iron sand, which was why it looked as though the dagger had pierced his shoulder.
Nansheng Sect Daoist Art—Gengjin Sword Qi.
The Gengjin Sword Qi Lan Yi had refined scattered like dust and gathered like silver sand. Its simple cutting effect was already terrifying enough. Any iron implement made of ordinary materials would be twisted into powder and reduced to food for the Gengjin Sword Qi the moment it came even slightly near him!
A mere dagger was nothing.
If Cang Hua had laid out a formation beforehand, Lan Yi could have ignored even a machine-gun barrage.
"Poison, a dagger, assassination in bed, sniper fire, explosives, human bombs—I've heard you even planned to draw in naval artillery."
"Other than naval artillery, which I have no way to demonstrate on the spot..."
"I can actually try all the rest."
"Let's see what methods people like you mortals can use to hurt me and make me bleed."
"By the way, does the god you believe in bleed?"
Lan Yi's voice was extremely loud, as if a loudspeaker had carried his seemingly arrogant yet perfectly fitting words to the ears of everyone nearby.
Every gaze turned toward him with fervor and worship.
Displaying his divine might, endlessly displaying it before the crowd.
This was the fastest way for Lan Yi to win the hearts of people in this era. He was more generous than an ethereal god and even more terrifying than one. He wanted to create the image of someone who knew everything and could not be defeated. In this world without psychic cultivators, there was still no one who could make him bleed before the eyes of the public.
Poison?
Lan Yi swallowed poison in front of everyone without changing his expression, showing not the slightest sign of its effects. Cang Hua and the Gengjin Sword Qi had already purged and transferred away the poison the instant it entered his mouth.
Assassination in bed?
That was not very suitable for a demonstration in broad daylight. The coldly alluring Madam Philia had already demonstrated it with a dagger. This genuinely left the reporters disappointed. If the Immortal Master Lan Yi had not been unwilling to perform, plenty of female reporters would have been ready to offer themselves, just to see who could successfully assassinate him—or withstand the Immortal Master's "assassination."
Sniper fire?
After apologizing, the warriors simply picked up machine guns and swept Lan Yi with a barrage. Amid the crowd's screams and cries of alarm, Lan Yi, completely unharmed, raised his hand and turned every bullet that had been forcibly suspended in midair into flying ash!
Explosives?
Several curry-scented assassins from India, who still had no idea what was happening, were thrown before Lan Yi while clutching their grenades and explosive packs tightly to their bodies.
These low-intelligence, lustful, useless cousins of black chimpanzees froze for a moment. Then, amid Dean's furious roars and scolding, they chose to run, selling out their master without the slightest hesitation.
Lan Yi was speechless.
As expected, the Indian men who loved unrestricted free exercise could always bring people joy.
If they were not going to blow themselves up and let the Immortal Master display his divine might, then they had no value left.
Even with eight legs, these Indian assassins could not outrun the warriors who came and went like the wind. The Qi Cultivation Practitioner guards leaped lightly and used martial techniques; in the time it took to blink a few times, each had caught up with an assassin. With a clean knife-hand strike to the neck, they finished off this group of red-headed constables who had committed countless atrocities.
Afterward.
Amid a deafening roar of explosions.
Lan Yi endured the shock waves that could tear steel apart, the lethal heat, and the shrapnel that could destroy walls, yet still floated out unharmed. Even his clothes had not been scorched.
"How about it? Can you make me bleed?"
Returning to Dean's side, Lan Yi looked down upon him like a god gazing at a lamb, destroying his psychological defenses with a gentle yet icy voice.