Kong Deming's Death-Ten Thousand Words

"I'm desperately thirsty for talent. Are you interested in working for me in the future? Jing Hongchen, Xuan Ziwen, and Xia XuanChen are all working for me now, and Liao Mengkai won't be resting for much longer either. Incidentally, they all volunteered. I never forced them," Qian Chaoguang said seriously.

There were not many talents on Douluo Continent who could catch his eye, and Kong Deming was definitely one of the top three.

If possible, Qian Chaoguang truly wanted to recruit Kong Deming to work for him.

Kong Deming, Xuan Ziwen, and Electrolux—if these three research grandmasters came together, they would definitely spark an even more dazzling brilliance.

Unfortunately, the chance was rather slim.

Probably about as slim as the Sun Moon Empire's chance of winning this war of national destruction.

"So it really was as I thought with Jing Hongchen and Xia XuanChen. What an Undead Emperor, what a God of Undead." Kong Deming's expression was extremely complicated. "You should know this is impossible. I cannot work for you."

"Knowing that doesn't stop me from asking. What if?" Qian Chaoguang said with an air of calm certainty. "So, Liao Mengkai came seeking the Dao. What did you come for? Surely not just to study my tank, right? Stop looking. You can't learn it. Half of what's inside isn't soul tool technology."

So this sort of mobile, large-scale steel War Soul Tool was called a tank?

Tank. What a strange name.

It was not a soul tool.

Then what else could it be?

Kong Deming dismissed the thought that had flashed through his mind, and his expression turned solemn as well.

He said gravely, "I came because I want to make a deal with you."

"A deal?" Qian Chaoguang immediately grew interested. "Let's hear it."

Kong Deming lowered his eyes