Defying Heaven Is Hard

Tang Yu had always been quick with compliments. After all, flattery cost nothing.

From the Taoist's account, every time the mask changed owners, it meant the previous owner had kicked the bucket.

For him to have lived more than three thousand years and still be full of life, his cultivation realm definitely could not have been low. He might even be some major powerhouse.

"Good. You're a sharp one, kid."

The Taoist was quite pleased with Tang Yu's swift response. Sitting on his skeleton throne with his arms crossed, he laughed heartily.

"Don't be fooled by how ghostly this throne looks. Spend more time around me and you'll see that I'm mild-tempered, humble, and kind to others. As for the people I killed, they all deserved to die."

"How did they deserve to die?"

At that moment, a phantom figure appeared atop another pitch-black throne. It seemed he had been watching the show from the sidelines for quite a while.

The phantom sneered.

"Whenever you see some man hopelessly devoted to a woman, you kill him, then go on about how simps must die. You're a Taoist who takes killing as your Dao. If you can ever attain the Dao and ascend, I'll twist off my own head and let you use it as a piss pot."

"This humble Taoist kills precisely those damned simps! When this Dog-Slaying Sword has slaughtered every simp in the world, that will be the day this humble Taoist attains the Dao and ascends! Simps ruin the fortune of men everywhere—shouldn't they die?"

The sword-bearing Taoist snorted. His formerly mild tone was now filled with murderous intent.

"Fight, fight!"

"If you can throw hands, stop yapping!"

"Fellow Daoists, don't talk nonsense. What kind of decorum is there in fighting all the time? It hurts the