Chapter 39: Moving House for the Phone Spirit

Shen Yanzhi was sitting at his desk reviewing documents. He wore a dark suit over a simple white shirt, complete with a sharp tie and meticulously coordinated high-end cufflinks—he was a man of exquisite taste. His eyes were cool and detached, his presence profound and dignified. His fingers, resting on his fountain pen, were slender and long, fair and well-proportioned, his palms broad and powerful. Even though Chi Yu had made no sound or movement, simply watching him in silence, he seemed to sense something and turned his head.

"It's unlikely. They aren't the only group here. We are here too. Even if they turn on each other for the sake of the treasure, how do they plan to deal with us afterward? They aren't that stupid," O'Connor retorted, rolling his eyes.

The fallen Daoist Cang Lang, drained of his vital energy and dying from severe wounds, still shouted at Han Feng, who hung in mid-air.

Upon hearing Qin Tian's words, Zhou Dafu hurriedly fished a golden business card from his pocket and, along with the five-million-dollar check, handed them to Qin Tian, offering an apologetic explanation.

The raging tornado, churned with seawater, formed a terrifying pillar of wind that swept up every single one of the one-eyed creatures, annihilating tens of thousands of life forms in an instant. Only the leader of the one-eyed creatures remained, bound and shivering at the residual power of the vortex, stripped of all will to resist.

Lord Pidi was in high spirits throughout the journey. This remote corner was empty and unremarkable, and his scanner had detected no signs of life; the base was clearly long abandoned. The treasure room's lighting system was broken, forcing him to turn on the searchlight on his exploration gear. The moment he pushed open the heavy door to the treasure room, he was struck by shock.

Seizing upon this setback, Yuan Shikai sent a telegram to Zaifeng, claiming that the enemy's momentum was overwhelming and the Beiyang Army had suffered heavy losses. He argued that reinforcements and additional weaponry were urgently needed, or the left flank of the Beiyang Army would collapse.

Jilala patted her son’s head. "Let's go to the parlor to talk." Her mood was heavy, a far cry from the lighthearted banter and easy laughter of the days before.

Once the copper coins took flight, they immediately transformed into a golden glow that enveloped the Wu blade held by the towering phantom of the demon god manifested by Gonggong. The blade fell from the air on the spot, snatched up by Zhao Gongming, who was coughing up blood.

After Yang Hongsen arrived, he observed the two men from the shadows. One was quite fashionable, dressed in a Western-style suit with polished shoes that gleamed. Beside him, the large man wore a short jacket with a front-fastening cloth button, clearly a disciple of the Green Gang.

The entrance was decorated in a slightly European style, and the door was wooden, reminiscent of a Western country villa. Chen Bin and Da Fei broke the lock and kicked the door open, but the stench inside was so foul that they were forced to retreat back outside, only catching their breath after a long time.

He bent over slightly in embarrassment, feeling the uncomfortable tightness in his trousers, and quickly adjusted his posture as he sat down, hoping to hide it from Ruan Zihan.

With a look of disdain, Su Xun spat out an insult, and an invisible sword qi—imperceptible to ordinary eyes—shot from his mouth toward the center of Yang Ming’s brow.

Even Mu Ye bowed toward the Nine Saints Hall as he passed, but Lou Wannian merely curled his lip, his face twisted in contempt.

"You've worked hard!" Su Xue notified the military doctor to bring a stretcher, then cradled Wang Yuan’s head in her hands, stroking his face with a touch of heartache.

Looking up at the boundless desert, Xu Mo felt only a sense of infinite desolation. There was no life, not even a blade of grass to be seen. Such was the terror of the desert, and the terror of this forbidden land among mortals.

Inside the dragon soul space of the blood jade thumb ring, everything was a deep, crimson red. Blood mist churned, and several golden bolts of lightning flickered in and out of sight. A colossal phantom was bound within, its eyes burning like fire, locked firmly onto Yang Ming not far away.

Lin Ran was slightly stunned. The entire company? It was a publicly listed firm with over a dozen subsidiaries. She had never imagined that one day she might manage so many companies. Was this a test from Situ Meina, or did she truly intend to let her manage the He family’s corporation?