Fang Cheng was quite satisfied. No matter what their mindsets were like, these three were formidable, each only one step away from Disaster-Class.
Together, the three of them could take on a Disaster-Class without much difficulty.
That left only Aziz, the Ghoul King.
The bald man lay on the ground, barely alive, while Peng Jie sat cross-legged on his back, using the Disaster-Class creature as a cushion.
Yellow fumes swirled around them. The earth had dried up and cracked, and the wind and snow that blew in were instantly vaporized, turning the area into a wasteland that no one else dared approach.
Fang Cheng walked in alone and stopped beside them. "Is it comfortable?"
Peng Jie shot him an annoyed look. "What do you think? Once we get back, I'm going to wash my butt. This is disgusting."
He had to sit on Aziz to keep the Ghoul King pinned down. Otherwise, the moment he let his guard slip, Aziz would escape.
At the sound of their voices, Aziz raised his head and looked at Fang Cheng. "I can withdraw from the competition. I'll even help you deal with Dracula."
"Did you and the Lich get the same script?"
Fang Cheng smiled. "He said the same thing to me. Guess where he is now."
Both of them had a favorability rating of less than -80 toward him. They were mortal enemies who wouldn't rest until one of them was dead.
Even if Fang Cheng had been dropped on his head and his intelligence had fallen into the negatives, he still wouldn't let them go.
A hint of despair flashed in Aziz's eyes. "I even gave you a map of Amon's temple. Do you really have to wipe us all out?"
When Aziz mentioned the map of Amon's temple, a flash