"O... one punch and he blew Zhao Wuji to death? This has to be fake, right? Could this guy be hiding his true strength?"
"Hiding my ass. This guy is only at the early True Immortal stage. He must have some special constitution. Didn't he say he was strong? It's probably because of that special constitution."
"Exactly. Zhao Wuji only has himself to blame for being so full of himself. Look what happened now—he got punched to death."
"Zhao Wuji really didn't know what was good for him. The guy told him three or four times before the fight to be careful, but Zhao Wuji just wouldn't listen. Now that he's dead, who can he blame?"
"He's seriously too kind, I'm crying. He even painstakingly reminded his opponent before fighting him. Where could you ever find an opponent like that?"
Looking at Li Xiaoyao's guilt-ridden face atop the Arena, the Wang Family disciples around him felt a flicker of sympathy.
Li Xiaoyao had always been simple-minded. Now that he was putting on an act, it looked so real that no one could tell truth from falsehood.
"Damn it, damn it! That fucking Zhao Wuji—why the hell were you acting so tough when there was nothing wrong with you? Huh?"
High above, in the area belonging to the Fourth Branch, a young man in luxurious robes kicked over the table before him and roared.
Zhao Wuji had been the strongest general under his command. He had been counting on Zhao Wuji to turn things around, but now it was over. He was gone, and everything was gone.
Other than the Third Branch, where only Wang Tian was a true direct descendant with the right to inherit the position of family head, the other branches had many people.
Split evenly, they could