Old-Fashioned Methods

"We've lost a fortune!"

As Ren Wuyang struggled out of the villa, he glanced at the fiercely raging flames.

Even an emergency firefighting response couldn't put out the blaze immediately.

The value of the villa and its furnishings was secondary. The various pieces of equipment and other items they kept there were worth a fortune, including his Flying Tiger Third Generation aircraft, worth two million.

Ren Wuyang wanted to salvage some of their losses, but looking at the bloody holes in his body and Ren Anran, whom they had dragged out, he ultimately decided it was good enough to be alive.

They hadn't faced an ordinary person, but a Sixth Sequence expert who had entered his twilight years and lost his mind.

Ren Yisheng could suppress such an opponent outright, but to them, he was a mountain they could scarcely hope to climb.

Ren Wuyang felt that escaping alive after sharing a room with such a madman meant his ancestors must have burned some mighty fine incense.

He and Zhang Xuezhou had often called each other brother when exchanging modest courtesies, but now he genuinely wanted them to become brothers.

Once people had been through life-and-death hardship together, there were indeed few barriers left between them, and they could even come to trust each other completely.

As Ren Wuyang staggered outside, all sorts of jumbled thoughts ran through his head. Only when Zhang Xuezhou called out did he quicken his steps.

"Assuming I don't suddenly fall asleep and interrupt it, I can use the technique on your sister three more times, keeping her headache at bay for six minutes," Zhang Xuezhou said. "See whether you want to call a medical team here, take her to a doctor, or cut off your sister's ears!"

"You're obviously telling me to cut off