Chapter 390: Zhou Ze's Amnesia

"Understood!" the crowd chorused in response.

Igniting the incendiary bomb, Li Chang'an hurled it with all his might into the cavern.

Boom!

The incendiary detonated, and in an instant, a wall of light devoured the cave entrance as the raging flames climbed higher.

From the depths of the hollow, the agonized shriek of an obsidian beetle echoed out as it thrashed and rolled amidst the fire.

"It worked!" Sun Yang cried out, flushed with excitement.

"Don't celebrate too early," Li Chang'an countered calmly. "Let's go inside and take a look."

He led the way, stepping forward into the cavern.

The cave

Upon hearing Teacher Tian Tian's words, everyone pulled out their mobile phones, unleashing a chorus of startled, chaotic shrieks.

For reasons unknown, the hand-kissing custom had grown fashionable among Europeans; the higher one ascended into high society, the more beloved the ritual became.

At that moment, something suddenly plummeted into the silvery, timeless river of space-time, stirring a microscopic, negligible ripple.

It remained a mystery where Ning Chengwu had recruited these people, but now was no time for secondary concerns; without making the slightest sound, he slipped toward the upper floor.

As the ambiguous tension fermented between them, Shen Qingshuang self-consciously pursed her lips, as if hoping that moistening her parched lips would keep her voice from faltering when next she spoke.

Su Mian was already weeping, her blood running cold with terror at the sheer audacity of Xiao Kaijie's thoughts; despair now held her completely in its grip.

This represented far more than just a torrential deluge of wealth; it signified a rare audience with the Emperor himself, a direct path to the sovereign's ear.

Yet her father had originally been a failed scholar of the imperial examinations, who had returned to settle in his ancestral home solely to nurse his fragile, sickly wife.

The seed of the divine soul was a peculiar manifestation, capable of forcibly reducing a person to a mere puppet, or subtly weaving psychological suggestions to bend the target's will to total obedience.

With the formidable might of the Master God of the Spiritual Element, the mind was potent enough to manifest reality... and absolute enough to obstruct physical forms of assault.

By all appearances, the world of "Let the Bullets Fly" was the sole viable alternative; the other realms were far too perilous for Bao Weiwei, their main objectives so terrifyingly lethal they were virtually death sentences, placing them entirely beyond his consideration.

A jarring, grating laugh shattered the siblings' rapt expressions, and their eyes flashed with annoyance as they turned their gaze upon Grandmaster Withered Bone.

Among the ten grand paths that Su Xing had mastered, it seemed only the path of karma and destiny possessed the meager strength required to contend against it.

The dwelling was crude and decrepit, and the man tossed a few garments reeking of mildew and stench at us, gesturing for us to change.

Hearing this, Prince Yin pondered in silence for a fleeting moment before drawing forth the Shadow Guard tally previously bestowed upon him by the Crimson Flame Emperor.

Bao Guowei could not help but admit that, to put it plainly, it was out of his own selfish desires that he wished to steer Zhang Siwu toward the Green Gang rather than the academy.

Stepping over, she poured a glass of water; listening to the soft, shallow breathing beside her, Pei Yan suppressed the burning urge to dump the liquid over his head, swallowing a massive gulp herself instead.

He wore a pristine, sapphire-blue Mongolian robe, his wild, untamed hair bound flat against his forehead by a two-finger-wide black headband; he walked with a majestic, sweeping stride, his lean and lofty frame losing none of its heroic agility.

Yet, who could have foreseen that nothing would ever manifest; perhaps they had lingered too long in the embrace of that quiet life, and as time wore on, others simply ceased to find it strange.

The somewhat detached words drifted through the frigid air, dissolving into the nocturnal gloom until they could no longer be perceived or noticed by anyone, vanishing without a trace. Tang Xue'er shrugged her shoulders and followed in Tang Nan's footsteps.

Qi Tianheng desired to slaughter as many sea demons as possible within the seven-day window dictated by the system, which naturally required him to fully exploit the resources around him.

Year after year, people would journey there to sweep the grounds, tending to the tomb of the great lord who had repelled the alien beasts and guarded the frontier, offering wreaths and paying their highest respects.

After a span of several days—arriving well past the conventional timeframe—the gathered heroes finally reached the Vuniu Stockade.

A few cautious souls, perhaps harboring fears that the conclusion of this so-called first stage was merely a deceptive ruse, deliberately chose to tarry and wait in that very spot.

Unable to restrain her amusement, Tang Fengya quickly turned her head away to hide her smile, her long legs carrying her swiftly toward the living room.