Refining the Chess Match

"I don't care." The boy shrugged, his tone brimming with indifference. "What does it matter whether I believe it or not? It means nothing to me."

Fisherman said no more.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, gazing at the Demon-Sealing Tower before him as waves surged through his heart, astonishment filling him.

Who is interfering with Old Man's refinement?

Could it be that brat Chen Duan?

His gaze seemed to pierce through the tower walls, as though he wished to see what was happening within.

But restrictions had been placed inside the tower, preventing him from spying on its exact circumstances.

Earlier, he had seen that brat Chen Duan arrive at the Celestial Court. Chen Duan also knew his Hundred Refinements Transformation Manual, so the likelihood was far from small.

But how long has this child been practicing the Hundred Refinements Transformation Manual? He can already interfere with Old Man's refinement?

That brat was merely a junior of the younger generation. How many days could he possibly have spent cultivating the Hundred Refinements Transformation Manual? Yet he could contend with the power of Fisherman's refinement on equal footing, even sabotage it from within?

If that was truly the case...

Fisherman looked at the expressionless monk Pure Slaughter beside him, who resembled a walking corpse.

Then this Bald Donkey had really stepped in dog shit and found himself a fine grand-disciple.

But no matter who it was.

This act of interference was exceedingly bold. To dare lay hands on Fisherman's belongings right under his nose—how many years had it been since he had encountered such a thing?

Fisherman's gaze remained placid, yet a trace of ruthlessness flashed quietly through his eyes and vanished in an instant.

Then what if Old Man comes to measure himself against you?

As his thoughts turned, he