Mount Fangcun, the Little Daoist Temple.
Only after the transmigrators had left did a faint smile creep onto Tongtian's lips.
He truly had not expected these transmigrators to band together, much less come looking for him.
But Tongtian clearly had no interest in joining them.
Perhaps if he had encountered a group of his own kind when he first transmigrated, he would have been overjoyed. But millions of years had passed since his arrival, and this world had thoroughly assimilated him.
His memories of his time on Earth had grown so distant that he could barely recall them anymore.
Under these circumstances, he really had no interest in reminiscing about past hardships and present blessings with a bunch of small fry.
For the sake of their shared origins, giving them a few warnings and benefits was already the greatest kindness Tongtian could offer. If they insisted on courting death, he would certainly deal with them in the end.
He had not been joking earlier. There really was something wrong with their systems.
Although he had not yet devoured their systems, his cultivation at the sixth heaven of the primordial unity still allowed him to easily detect that someone had tampered with their system cores.
Within those system cores lay a strand of a powerful expert's divine sense.
Even though Tongtian had reached the sixth heaven of the primordial unity, he could, in truth, only faintly detect it.
Once they reached the Quasi-Saint realm, that strand of divine sense would awaken.
That was the fundamental reason Tongtian had warned them.
Of course, if they refused to listen and insisted on doing things their own way, they would have no one else to blame when their souls were devoured.
Tongtian was not afraid of it, of course. Even if that strand of