The east was calm, but it was too calm. Everyone listened carefully and found that the earthquakes there were very weak. A majestic power was suppressing the restless earth veins.
"Is it not delightful to have friends coming from afar?"
The Yinshan Ghost King raised his head, and a 180-square-meter evil ghost pupil materialized in the sky: "If you have any objections to the Eastern Kingdom's handling of affairs, you are welcome to show yourself."
"No objection."
Someone spoke softly in the language of the Eastern Kingdom, with a rather pleasant accent from Sichuan. Fang Zong chuckled, "Good, it's good that you have no objections. Listen to this, even our ghost leaders are acting under Eastern Kingdom identities. If you have any objections, I'd like to drag Wen along and kill some people as well."
"No, we're only saving people, not fighting."
The sound that came through was very calm, but the majestic power surged unrestrainedly, suppressing the earth's veins in a region of North Korea and weakening the earthquake considerably.
"Thank you, friend. North Korea is grateful to you. This ancient, mighty nation of the East has actually..."
Hua Jinghao wanted to ask for help, and had just scolded Fang Zong twice when Fang Zong turned his head and said "hmm". Hua Jinghao was struck as if by lightning and slid backward seventy or eighty meters. When he saw Fang Zong raise his hand, he quickly crawled back on his knees and kowtowed to the stone tablet.
"We were wrong, we're sorry, we sincerely apologize!"
"Those two missiles were really just accidental damage, we apologize, we apologize..."
The North Korean martial arts masters were no longer the spirited men they once were. Their disheveled hair, stained with blood, was thrown to the ground, leaving streaks of blood that were then crushed by their foreheads. "You said it, Fang Zong, you said you wouldn't kill us!" Hua Jinghao kept muttering.
"It's not that we're afraid of death, it's really not that we're afraid of death!" Hua Jinghao kept reassuring himself. They...really...were not afraid of death!
If they were killed by Fang Zong, North Korea would lose its Daemujong. Without Daemujong, how could North Korea resist the Chaoxian Kingdom, which was eager to retaliate against them? They were begging for mercy for the sake of the country and the people, enduring humiliation and hardship!
With this thought in mind, Hua Jinghao and the others kowtowed harder and harder, their eyes filled with ever-deepening hatred...
"Crack!" Fang Zong crushed the bones in Hua Jinghao's shoulder.
As soon as he made his move, Laozi and the others quickly stepped forward and crippled the arms of all the Great Martial Masters of North Korea. Li Xiaoran and Xue Nuo wanted to make a move, but Fang Zong stopped them.
"Let's go," Fang Zong said with a smile to his two female teammates.
The group walked towards the East, as if on a spring outing, through the ruins of the ongoing natural disaster. Many fighter jets flew overhead, carrying no ammunition and needing no ammunition.
The fighter jet slowly approached the ground, and a loudspeaker announced: "Please board, esteemed sirs. The Ghost Slayer Squad has prepared a banquet to entertain all the gods, demons, and ghosts. Lord Baotu and Lord Wang Zhian, the chief steward of the Ghost Slayer Squad, have ordered that all of you are meritorious officials of the Eastern Kingdom, and that we should all gather together without distinction. Chief Steward Wang Zhian also said that with Lord Baotu as his guarantor, he will absolutely not hold a treacherous banquet."
"Damn it! I really don't trust that Wang Zhian!"
"He's a real scoundrel. I heard he used a female spy to spread false information for three years and slept with her for three years. In the end, he put on a show and made her feel guilty towards him for two years!"
"However, there is a way to protect..."
The monsters under the black-robed man's command were discussing among themselves. The black-robed man and the peacock hesitated for a moment, but still boarded the plane.
On the other side, He Xiangu and Han Zhongli were looking at Laozi, but Laozi was staring at Zhang Sanfeng, who looked like a young man.
"This junior is now called Zhang Chuchen, and this is my grand-disciple Zhang Jun." Zhang Sanfeng bowed respectfully to Laozi, sighed, and climbed onto the cockpit of the fighter jet. Laozi stroked his goatee and followed him.
“In that case, let us all go to the banquet together,” Laozi said to Fang Zong.
Fang Zong smiled and led his teammates over.
Directly in front of the eight stone tablets behind them, Hua Jinghao and the others unconsciously turned around, cautiously glancing at Fang Zong and the others who were about to leave.
"They're finally gone. Although their arm was crippled and their energy flow was disrupted, they'll be able to recover 80% of their fighting strength in half a day."
Hua Jinghao and the North Korean Grand Masters exchanged cryptic glances. Thankfully, they reacted quickly and decisively backed down; otherwise, North Korea would have been in serious trouble. Once their injuries healed, one day…
Hatred burned in his heart, and his eyes grew ever more terrifying and profound.
Hua Jinghao and the others buried their hatred in their hearts and breathed a sigh of relief.
Sudden!
Fang Zong's eyes turned cold. With a wave of his hand, the small world of earth fire appeared out of thin air, engulfing Hua Jinghao and the other Great Martial Masters. The extremely pure True Yang Fire instantly burned them into nothingness, leaving only the finest dust imprinted on the eight stone tablets, like the shadows of individuals.
They vanished into thin air, their souls scattered, but they will never be separated from the stone tablet, forever repenting for their sins...
"Crunch!" Lao Tzu broke one of his old teeth.
"Male witch, rice tofu..." The black-robed man and the peacock began chanting their nonsensical Buddhist incantations.
Fang Zong promised not to kill anyone, but his retaliation was so ruthless. They suddenly realized that there was no such thing as a safe banquet, and this banquet was really not a trap.
"It's really not."
Fang Zong seemed to have sensed their thoughts and offered a brief explanation, but didn't elaborate further.
With a light tap of the toes on the glass cockpit of the fighter jet, dozens of fighter jets turned around and flew into the boundless sky of the East.
"Dongguo, suit-wearing thugs, Fang Zong..." Amidst the remaining chaos in North Korea, two figures slowly emerged.
One of them was clearly a woman, wearing a black leather jumpsuit, barefoot, and with a black butterfly mask on her face; the other was dressed in particularly elaborate clothes, had a small mustache shaped like the number eight, and a Western-style rapier hanging at his waist, and kept stroking the black figure on the stone tablet.
"He truly deserves the title of 'thug,' ruthless and cold-blooded."
The woman said sarcastically and resentfully, "We should have gotten rid of that suit-wearing thug sooner. With his personality, he'd cause too much bloodshed during a full-scale war!"
“No,” the man with the mustache continued stroking the black figures on the stone tablet, “what do you think these figures represent?”
"What do you mean?"
"Fang Zong could have completely wiped out North Korea's Daemujong without a trace, so why leave these dark shadows behind? Don't you think these dark shadows look familiar?"
"This..." The woman adjusted her butterfly mask, then suddenly clenched her fist and crushed a corner of the mask: "The figure of someone who died after the nuclear explosion?"
"Yes, Fang Zong has left a warning mark on him. He is kinder than we realize."
The man with the mustache smiled knowingly.
"With Fang Zong's warning, very few people will die so cheaply anymore..."
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