The Underworld:
The lord of City No. 95 stared blankly at Wang Quan, his mind buzzing.
It felt as though its tens of thousands of years of life had all been wasted.
The strike from the [Sky Patrol Magic Treasure] alone had been enough to leave it shaken for a lifetime.
Panic had sent it fleeing headlong to this remote backwater, where it planned to prey on the locals and reign as a petty tyrant.
Yet... in this remote backwater, it had run into Wang Quan again.
And this man had actually summoned an even more terrifying strike from the Heterodox Paths' [Dao Court].
If it could understand something of the [Sky Patrol Magic Treasure]'s strike,
then a [Dao Court]-level strike was utterly beyond its comprehension.
It came without a sound, without earth-shattering explosions, without frenzied fighting and exchanges of blows.
There was only a quiet, unremarkable flow.
A powerhouse whose aura alone could make it collapse had, in the space of a single breath, had their soul and every other form of consciousness hooked away by the [Drowning Dao Court].
"What a sin!"
"What fucking sin did I commit? Why do I run into that jinx Wang Quan wherever I go?"
"I just want to prey on the neighbors in peace, to enjoy my ghostly life as a petty tyrant."
"Why is it so hard?"
His thoughts churned, and a sudden inspiration struck him. "I can't afford to cross Wang Quan, but I can certainly hide from him!"
"He's come to the Far Northern Land. I can avoid him by going back home to the Far Western Land."
"Only, that means I won't get to eat delicacies from the Present World anymore."
The lord of City No. 95 paced back and forth, then gritted his teeth. "It doesn't matter