Man's strength always had its limits,
Or, as the saying went, eight or nine things in life out of ten were unsatisfactory.
Zhang Yang now felt that his luck had finally run out.
He had stubbornly waited for fifty years, yet no opportunity had appeared that would allow him to act.
Without any major disturbance in the laws, trying to soul-travel into a Thousand-Handed Person who had just died would be nothing short of suicide.
It could be said that Heavenly God Chang Ji's defensive measures in this regard were virtually flawless.
Over the past fifty years, the Boat of Death had circled the Thousand-Handed People's world three times, crossing several million kilometers in total. Zhang Yang, He Yimou, Zhao Baiyi, and the others had all watched with their eyes wide, spying and calculating, hoping that some accident would suddenly occur in a certain region. Their demands were not high: as long as there were a hundred Four-Armed and thirty Six-Armed Thousand-Handed People who had just died, perhaps they could decipher the Chaos Divine Seal that represented an overwhelmingly powerful defense.
But such Thousand-Handed People had already broken free from the ranks of ordinary people and were under the surveillance of this world's Heavenly Dao.
"I still have one chance. I can't accept leaving just like this."
On the Boat of Death, Zhang Yang spoke viciously. He indeed still had one final trump card: the Blood Sacrifice Cousin—or, more precisely, the Remnant Soul of Destiny attached to the Blood Sacrifice Little Cousin.
This thing could still have an effect in the Fourth Sequence, but the price would certainly be enormous. Most importantly, after this blood sacrifice, the consequences might be so severe that the bond between the Remnant Soul of Destiny attached to the Little Cousin and Zhang Yang would