Your Good Days Are Just Beginning

Inside the operating room, Li Ziran sat on a small stool. Seated opposite him was Pangke, the current deputy commander of North Sea Port's Seventh Legion.

Yet this deputy commander showed not the slightest dissatisfaction. In just a few short days, his military career had faced an enormous challenge.

If Anfuni had not displayed two versions of himself before him, he might not even have known what had happened when he was stripped of his position.

From that moment onward, Pangke had already compromised. Especially after hearing that these replicas had come from Li Ziran's hand, he had wanted even more to meet the figure behind it all.

The operating room before him differed somewhat from what he had imagined. In his eyes, a Witch Doctor capable of replicating him should at least have lived amid a sea of corpses and blood. Yet this place was spotless. Frogs hung overhead in orderly rows, and not even half a corpse could be seen.

Li Ziran himself, in particular, did not resemble a Witch Doctor at all. He looked more like a student who had wandered here from the Human Kingdom.

But Pangke would not judge a person by appearances. This was the man who had tortured him until he wished he were dead, and now Li Ziran was responsible for providing shelter to the Shadow Society. Pangke had more or less learned something about the Demon Embryo trade.

It was profitable. Extremely profitable.

Simply for providing shelter, he could receive three bottles of Soul Plasma every month, not even counting the other benefits.

Anyone in the North Sea understood the preciousness of Soul Plasma. It was something he could only gaze at from afar, forever beyond his reach.

Now, not only did he have it, but he could receive an endless