Luo Hou's Resurrection

The Netherworld Sea of Blood was a famous land of peril in the Prehistoric World, where blood-waves towered to the heavens and vicious souls howled in grief.

But in some secluded corner deep within the Sea of Blood, wrapped layer upon layer in formations, the style of things was a little off.

This place had been remodeled to look like a modern three-bedroom apartment.

"Pair of threes!" Mosquito Daoist, dressed in a long black skirt, tossed out two cards.

"Pass." Beside her, a panda lying on its stomach and gnawing on a stalk of bamboo muttered dully.

"Joker bomb!" At the main seat, a young man in blood-red robes with red hair and features so handsome they bordered on demonic calmly threw out two cards. It was none other than the transmigrator Ming He.

"Holy shit! Boss, you peeked at the cards again, didn't you!" Mosquito Daoist protested.

"Bullshit. I've already attained the Dao and become a Daluo Golden Immortal of the Origin. Do I need to peek to calculate the cards in your hands?"

Old Ancestor Ming He rolled his eyes and threw out his last single card.

"One card left. Hurry up."

"I'm done, I'm done!" Mosquito Daoist tossed her cards away and said resentfully, "You win every time. It's boring."

"Speaking of which, Boss, aren't you bored staying in the Sea of Blood all day? How about we go stir up some trouble?"

Ming He lounged lazily on a sofa condensed from the essence of the Sea of Blood.

"Stir up trouble? What trouble? Is soaking in the Sea of Blood uncomfortable, or is playing Landlord not fun?"

He pointed overhead.

"My true body is busy dealing with the possible Bengtian Great Calamity that may come in the future, holding meetings with the other saints every day."