"It hasn't been used in so many years. I wonder if it still works."
"When I get back, I'll have a good rummage around, then bring it over for you."
When Mediocre Death God heard them talk like that, he felt as if every last one of them really were vicious ghosts that had crawled out of hell, wanting to drag him down into it.
He immediately looked at Daoist Yangmei and said to him, "What exactly do you want to ask?"
Qin Xi had already said what answer he wanted before, so Daoist Yangmei knew as well. He said to him, "We just want to know where Masked Man got all that strength from, and we also want to know exactly how many men Masked Man has available to him now."
"Although you haven't been by his side for a long time, you should still have some understanding of these things, right?"
Of course Mediocre Death God knew about these things, but as he looked at Qin Xi, Daoist Yangmei, and the others, there was still a certain fluke mentality in his heart.
He looked at Daoist Yangmei and shook his head like a rattle drum. The pain all over his body made his face turn pale.
His complexion had not looked especially good to begin with, and now it looked even more ferocious.
And he was still stubbornly saying to Daoist Yangmei, "I don't know. I really don't know. I haven't followed Master at his side for several months already, and besides, Master handled all these things personally. Let me go."
Qin Xi would have to believe his nonsense—like hell.
Before this, Masked Man had been trapped by him inside that mirror the entire time, and had never left his room. How could he possibly have kept such