When everyone saw the nine Soul Rings beneath Tang Hao's feet and the man tossed aside, a chill shot straight to the crowns of their heads.
The previously arrogant Soul Master with the white ring could no longer utter a word.
Tang Hao looked at the stupefied man without a shred of mercy. The Clear Sky Hammer appeared in his hand, and he swung it straight at him.
"M-murder!"
"A hammer Martial Soul! He's a Titled Douluo from the Clear Sky Sect!"
None of them had ever imagined they would encounter a legendary Titled Douluo in this out-of-the-way tavern.
Worse still, he was a Titled Douluo from the Clear Sky Sect they had been discussing with such relish. They wanted to die and wished they could sprout two extra legs.
Watching the crowd try to flee, Tang Hao sneered. Light slowly flickered beneath his feet, and he brought his hammer down on them.
"You insulted the Clear Sky Sect, and now you think you can leave? I can't let you go out and tell tales."
Sunday walked down the street, listening to the conversations around him, and entered a teahouse.
The teahouse was bustling, filled with a roaring hubbub of voices.
He went to a private room on the second floor, where a waiter brewed him a pot of tea.
Sunday lifted his cup and took a sip, suddenly finding the whole thing rather amusing.
This does have a touch of 'nothing to do today, so off to the pleasure house to hear a tune,' except the pleasure house has become a teahouse.
*If I have time in the future, I could exchange notes with that old fellow who spends every day drinking tea and taking his bird out for a stroll. He certainly knows a thing or two