Meng Zhao and Niu Dali's arrival gave Yuan Bin the feeling of surviving a desperate situation, but the Pudu Cult members were extremely displeased. The fierce-looking bald monk in particular fixed his gaze on Meng Zhao, hidden killing intent flickering in his eyes like thunder beneath rain clouds.
"Who are you? How dare you spout such grandiose nonsense before us?"
The monk's martial arts were formidable, his temperament vile and reckless. At times, even the Pudu Cult Master found him a headache. Though he could see that Meng Zhao possessed a mighty bearing and peerless martial skill, and was no easy character, he still refused to let his own side lose face and aggressively questioned him.
After giving Yuan Bin a reassuring look, Niu Dali stared at the bald monk. With thudding steps as heavy as a giant elephant's, he came before the man, touched the large gold ring hanging from his earlobe, and grinned. His cavernous, blood-red mouth was terrifying as he snarled, "And what are you? Throwing your weight around in my friend's home, and you still dare disrespect my brother?"
For a moment, a most peculiar scene unfolded.
Two vicious men—both bald, both savage-looking, both broad and powerfully built—faced each other like fighting cocks, glaring fiercely into one another's eyes. Their auras collided and intertwined, chasing and pressing against each other without either yielding. The air brimmed with the pungent scent of gunpowder, and a fight could break out at any moment.
Niu Dali had never possessed a good temper to begin with. Born of the Demonic Path, he was unrestrained and lawless, unfettered by all rules. Though he held some awe for Meng Zhao, he was more interested in clinging to a powerful thigh and pledging his service. In this world, there were only a handful