Chapter 119: Qiao Jia Falls Into a Coma, A Glimmer of Truth

Whether human or monster, everyone was delighted that Qiao Jia intended to deal with the zombies in Lingxiao City. It should be known that the town's online "Life Simulator" game was not restricted to humans alone; even monsters could participate as players. Everyone was looking forward to the launch of new event quests. The difficulty of the Blood Clan battlefield had been escalating, and both sides had begun deploying high-combat-power units, making it impossible for low-level monsters and humans to participate.

Logically, this maneuver could be completed at high altitudes, but the "low-altitude braking" Mr. Jin spoke of was almost unimaginable. The operation was far too difficult; if the airbrake was not controlled precisely, a crash was highly likely.

Liu Qing understood Zhou Ming too well. If Zhou Ming said he wouldn't eat, he truly wouldn't. Once he took out his card, she knew she could never force him to take it back. What else could she do but go along with him?

However, this was useless to Ye Hua, as these so-called hidden secrets had long since been compiled and published on the internet in later eras, becoming common knowledge. He knew them all.

Mu Feng had long realized the severity of the situation. He hadn't spoken up earlier, hoping the matter would somehow fade away, but it was now clear that was impossible. At this point, he had no choice but to recount the entire situation exactly as it happened.

Watching Liu Ha’s expression, Lu Yu was laughing inwardly. Just wait—this tea was absolutely terrible, and once tasted, it would be an unforgettable experience.

Nichkhun took a deep breath. Seeing the encouraging look in Zhao Ziyi’s eyes, a surge of ambition ignited within him. With a powerful push from his feet, he began his unique dance on this land of Lingtian.

After hearing Nichkhun’s words, Park Jae-beom thought about Zhao Ziyi’s usual personality and agreed that it must be so.

In these three months, over two thousand years had passed on the planet Pandora. The Holy War fought by the four allied races was still recounted among their descendants, and statues of the four heroes had been erected in every city, though the bloodlines of those heroes had long since faded into the currents of history.

But just as they turned away, another member of Lin Tiancheng’s squad was taken down. The unfortunate soul was pinned to the ground by a mantis-like beast that pierced his collarbone, and then a second monster tore into him. As the man screamed, the two creatures worked together to hack him into pieces.

Ye Ming felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his left ear. He couldn't help but follow her away from the dining table, hunched over with his head tilted and his lips twisted, led out of the private room like a puppet by his ear, stumbling as he went.

"Then, shall I call the messenger in, and you can speak to him yourself, Your Highness?" Wu Chufeng asked, bowing his head and looking up at Jing Xing.

The car pulled out of the apartment complex. In the spacious backseat, An Muxi’s previous coldness vanished. She sat curled up on the leather seat, tears streaming down her face uncontrollably.

Even Luo Hanlin, who hated him to the bone, felt uncertain. She stared at him blankly, then glanced over at Liu Zi’an.

After that burst of light erupted from Tian Tian, the demon army vanished in an instant. The swarming demon thralls suddenly froze, their eyes dull yet fixed in unison on the light slowly spreading across the sky.

Immortal artifacts—the legendary peerless treasures left behind by immortals—were mythical even in the Xuanyuan Realm. Mo Li had never seen one. In a world where even true cultivators were rare, how could an immortal artifact exist?

Lei Yiming also sat up. Leaning on the heated kang with one hand, he tilted his body to look at Man Shanhong. Man Shanhong met his gaze and saw that his face remained expressionless, his eyes sunken in faint shadows with an inscrutable look.

"Is this what you call the 'Left-Handed Blade'?" Mo Li stared straight at the hand-blade descending toward his head, shaking his head in disdain.