"Zhou Heng, didn't expect we'd meet again so soon, did you?" the purple-clad minotaur snarled at Zhou Heng, grinding his teeth in undisguised hatred.
Zhou Heng put on a blank look. "Who are you? Do I know you?"
"You bastard! You dare say you don't know us?" The purple-clad minotaur flew into a rage. It had not even been half a day—how could he have forgotten them already? They were all Bright Immortals. Could a Bright Immortal's memory really be that poor?
What an act!
"Ah." Zhou Heng sighed and shook his head. "I never bother remembering stray cats and dogs. I just blast them to pieces! If you've met me before, count yourself lucky—no killing is allowed here!"
Damn! Damn! Damn!
He was too arrogant! Too contemptuous of everyone else!
"Brother Gang, look, it's this guy! He's far too arrogant!" The purple-clad minotaur hurriedly sought help from Niu Gang. He had already been beaten into a psychological shadow and naturally did not dare fight Zhou Heng again.
Niu Gang had been watching Zhou Heng and Jiang Zishuang all along. He was immensely proud, but not foolish in the slightest. He never underestimated any opponent, especially when that opponent's information was completely blank.
Yet in truth, there seemed to be nothing remarkable about these two.
That little girl was plainly a Creation King. For a Creation King to enter this place, she could only be either an alchemist or a formation rune master—neither was known for combat strength.
And Zhou Heng?
Though Niu Gang could not see through his Dantian space, the aura he gave off was merely that of a Bright Immortal with a dozen or so divine forms! Of course, it was also possible that Zhou Heng had deliberately suppressed his cultivation, possessing more than sixty divine forms