Chapter Fifty-Seven: Betrayal
Lin Yi’s gaze was sharp as a blade, which made Jiang Xiaoning inwardly furious; she couldn’t believe she’d been frightened by a country bumpkin. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. She raised her palm, aiming to slap Lin Yi across the face. Yet just as her hand lifted, someone seized her wrist.
Yuan Zhekai’s expression darkened, and he rebuked, “Lin Yi, bullying a girl—what kind of man does that make you?”
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From Pascal’s words of amazement, Lin Ai learned that, with the help of a group of Emirs using magical elements, the council hall of Pascal Village had finally been built. Emir, after bidding a friendly farewell to the mechanical lifeforms, had left there to look for Lin Ai.
The disciple who came to carry the injured checked the pulse of the Zhuansun tribe’s member and reached a conclusion.
Inside the Green Mountain, piles of delicacies, fine wines, planetary specialties, and a handful of technological products filled the cabin.
The androids of the Manila troops paid no heed to Lin Ai. Only when Harry, prompted by Lin Ai, called out to stop, did the androids cease their fire.
After all, this way, players could only obtain the special card for the review by truly purchasing the game cartridge.
Ling Hao looked on, and a sense of unease crept into his heart. He had hoped to use Yan Xuanji as a breakthrough into the Yan family—was his plan about to fall through now?
At that moment, several jeeps roared in from afar, speeding toward Fang Rui’s supercar. As soon as the vehicles halted, seven or eight burly, rough-looking men leapt out, carrying an unmistakable air of the underworld.
No matter how much Lin Ai complained, it couldn’t change the fact that Emir lacked magical elements. She could only grab Emir by the collar and drag him outside.
The void buzzed and pulsed with energy. A massive layer of black energy appeared, enveloping Ye Tian.
“Heh, those Eastern guys always love to brag. I could tear you apart with just one hand,” Sean growled, his two arms lashing out like twin dragons, suddenly appearing to grasp Ling Hao’s neck.
Seeing Song Duanwu not in a hurry to enter, Zhou Yafu also lingered. Only after the burly man watched Song Duanwu take out his embarrassing, battered old phone and make a rambling call did he see Third Brother, suave as ever, stride inside.
The fire dragon had already burrowed into the long-snouted crocodile’s mouth, rampaging through its internal organs, inflicting pain so intense it pierced to the bone.
Yet confusion lingered in his heart—why would Zhao Ming impersonate his identity? Did they truly believe he was dead?
While traversing the valley of illusions, Li Yan discovered the mirage. The allied forces would always choose to skirt around it, never breaking through by force—partly because Li Yan lacked the strength, and partly because they hoped the mercenary corps following them would fall into the illusion when they arrived.
Vilan gently shook her head. “How could I?” But Snowsea wouldn’t listen, firmly pressing the fan into Vilan’s hand. Duan Shiyu could only smile and shake her head in amusement. Chutao’s reluctance to let her step into the world seemed wise. Vilan herself could hardly bear to let Snowsea grow up. How much could a fifteen-year-old truly understand about the world beyond these walls?
Ji Shengkai absconded with a fortune, clutching fistfuls of banknotes, planning something in America. How could he possibly not fear death?
All along, any wish she had, he strove to fulfill. All along, he stood at her side, offering the most attentive care. All along, she’d grown accustomed to his kindness, to his soft-hearted, generous nature.
“Mengzhu!” Ji Qing cried out, rushing toward Mengzhu, who stood bathed in the morning light. Just then, the first touch of dawn broke in the east, its whiteness spilling across his face like a layer of plaster, shrouding his spirit and making him appear frail, his steps uncertain.