Over the next few days, Yi Feng drowned his sorrows in drink.
That day, he was drinking with several others again, his face full of melancholy and helplessness.
After mulling it over.
He casually began asking them around.
"Tell me, are there any terrifyingly powerful experts on Black Island?"
The moment his soft voice fell.
The bleary-eyed men exchanged furtive glances, then respectfully bowed and spoke.
"No, absolutely not!"
"You must be joking, sir..."
"Though I come from the outer islands, having personally come here this time, I find Black Island to be nothing remarkable. Before you, sir, who could possibly be called an expert?"
"In this old man's humble opinion, just as you said, you could suppress the entire island with a flip of your hand!"
"Exactly, exactly!"
Sa Donglai and the others were red-faced, their eyes full of reverence.
These old foxes desperately wanted to seize every chance to curry favor with Yi Feng. With such an obvious answer before them, how could they possibly say otherwise?
Yi Feng was left dumbfounded, feeling both amused and helpless.
That was true.
Given the strength he had displayed, it really would be difficult for them to mention any other experts before him.
In fact, not only did they not know—even he himself had no idea what level his cultivation had reached.
Having powerful cultivation was not a bad thing. It would give him an extra measure of protection in the future, and he should have been thrilled. But if he was this strong, where was his road to death supposed to lead?
Before he knew it, the others were already snoring drunkenly.
"Phew... phew..."
Yi Feng shook his head with a helpless chuckle.
He rose and stood alone beside the carved railing, his eyes deep in thought.
From now on.