As everyone knew, Chen Ping had developed a good habit from childhood, one that had earned him an indisputable record of killing an eight-ring opponent with only two rings back in his second year: whether anything was happening or not, record first.
Chen Ping was almost certain that as long as he could get this recording into the God of Destruction's hands, there was no telling how the God of Destruction would make life difficult for Tang San in the Divine Realm for a while. Never mind forcing the God of Destruction out of the game; whether Tang San could even free up his hands to keep tending his little patch of land on the Douluo Continent was another question.
The problem was that he was still inside the God of the Mire's mouth. If the slightest movement alerted the God of the Mire, whose mind had been bewitched, he would probably become Chen Ping paste on the spot.
Fortunately, he had a cheat. In the realm of controlling divine sense and divine awareness, even Tang San was generations behind Electrolux, who had commanded an Undead Army a million strong at his peak.
"Thought distortion, memory tampering. Mere parlor tricks. Handle it yourself."
Electrolux merely used his divine sense to examine the God of the Mire's condition, left him that remark, and paid Chen Ping no further attention.
Hearing this, Chen Ping immediately felt as though a great stone had dropped from his heart. If Electrolux could confidently leave this matter to him, it meant Tang San's methods were crude beyond measure.
So much so that Electrolux could even trust Chen Ping, who essentially could only borrow the power of divine sense and did not yet possess a divine soul of his own, to resolve this problem.
But thinking about