Chapter 153: The Launch of "Punishing Immortals," The Gods Retreat!

Hearing this, the editor-in-chief furrowed his brows, remaining silent. Upon learning that his long-time rival, Shengda Chinese, was set to release "Zhu Xian," he had caught a flight back overnight to hold an emergency meeting. None of them had expected Shengda Chinese to maintain such strict confidentiality; not a single whisper had leaked out beforehand. The others in the room felt equally helpless. Indeed, how could they compete? With a "king bomb" like "Zhu Xian" launching on the same day, their own sales would inevitably suffer a devastating blow.

"Insolent!" In an instant, the countless Immortal Emperors behind Emperor Lan Ran erupted in fury. They had never imagined that Jiang Chen would be so arrogant as to provoke the Supreme Immortal Emperor directly; it was nothing short of a death wish.

The men listened to his curses while keeping their heads down, continuing to feast on the roast chicken. Since they were eating the man's food, they figured they could at least let him vent a little.

He could not fathom why the Dark Emperor would act this way. Chu Si’s ultimate goal in gathering the divine artifacts and treasure maps was to confront the Dark Emperor.

She glanced down at her silk pajamas, climbed out of bed, and walked to the door. Finding the dress she had worn yesterday folded neatly on the threshold, Zhang Nuannuan pondered for a moment, brought it inside, changed, and stepped out of the room.

Yi Shui was naturally no longer a virgin, so Ling Xin found entry quite easy. However, because Yi Shui had remained chaste for hundreds of billions of years, the sensation after entry was indistinguishable from that of a virgin.

Being a guest meant being invited to someone else’s home for a meal; such invitations were generally extended for weddings or funerals.

Upon receiving the news, Su Jinyue felt an immediate headache. On one hand, she was troubled by the failure, but on the other, she felt a sense of relief that the matter had at least been brought to a close.

Mu Liang sighed with a sense of melancholy upon hearing what had happened at the ancestral hall. The third branch of the Mu family had only intended to help, but he feared they might inadvertently turn the Tao family into enemies because of it.

Although there was some deception involved, Zhang Nuannuan decided to handle the present situation first. Tang Zheng was still somewhat angry, and she could hardly worry about the future; she would cross that bridge when she came to it.

Everyone knew of the prosperity of Xuzhou City, and Fu Zhengyu had always wanted to see it for himself, so the group boarded their carriage once more.

This left his heart feeling hollow, as if something had been forcibly ripped away, leaving a void that nothing could fill.

Li Xiaoxiao took a deep breath, purging the unwanted memories of the past from her mind.

Although they had never met Wu Zhao, how could they not know of "Sky Blade," the man who had knocked "Bi An"—once the greatest of the younger generation in Great Huaxia—off his pedestal?

Moreover, its massive snake body began to change; scales slowly sprouted from the original skin, and a sharp protrusion emerged from the top of its head, looking remarkably like a horn.

Perhaps not all of those demons were such trash, yet it was an indisputable fact that those who had descended into this world from the Abyss of Demon Souls had all been wiped out by humanity.

One must know how to be grateful, especially for the gift of life. Qin Chaoyue decided not to torment herself or Ai Lu by dwelling on that issue any longer.

Because this was a space created by Wang Ye, Xue Wuhen could not break through the void without exerting his full power.

Having taken one of his shirts from the hotel, she prepared to use the excuse of returning it as a sharp weapon to get close to him again.

Ai Lu had saved his life; she was the angel of his childhood and youth, and he would certainly never abandon her.

Sure enough, a row of over a dozen luxury cars lined the entrance. From them stepped powerful figures who looked vaguely familiar—people frequently seen on television news and in magazines, including the Mayor of A City.

This kind of aura, had it not been forged in the carnage of the battlefield, could never have appeared on an ordinary person.

As a doctor, he knew that the reason the market was flooded with Mongolian milkvetch root while scarce in membranous milkvetch was simple: though the former was less potent, it was easier to cultivate and required far less attention in the herb fields.