He is already fifty-five years old this year, but his soul power is still stuck at level forty-nine, and he has been unable to break through to the Soul King realm.
He has mediocre talent and no connections; his life is pretty much over.
"strength……"
He muttered to himself, his eyes filled with resentment and longing.
The announcement from the Spirit Hall filled him with fear, but the information it revealed was like a seed of evil, taking root and sprouting wildly in his heart.
"Tang San... can grant people power..."
Once the thought arises, it can no longer be suppressed.
justice?
Morality?
Will that help him break through his current limitations? Will that help him escape his impoverished life?
cannot!
But strength can!
Zhao Wuyai's breathing became rapid, and in his eyes, reason and desire were locked in a fierce battle.
Finally, he stood up abruptly, crumpled the notice in his hand into a ball, and threw it into the stove.
"To hell with justice!"
He growled, his eyes filled with nothing but frenzied greed.
"I only believe in strength! Whoever can give me strength is my master!"
He quickly packed his bags, pushed open the door without a second thought, and sped off into the night towards the Star Luo Empire.
Unbeknownst to him, at the same moment he made this decision, in many corners of the mainland, hundreds and thousands of people like him, driven by desire and discontent, were making the same choice.
A storm that swept across the world not only brought together righteous people, but also allowed ambitious people in the dark to find the "holy land" they longed for.
The world is being clearly divided into two camps: black and white.
At the heart of this storm, the Star Luo Empire's frontline camp also received an urgent military intelligence report from the rear regarding this announcement.
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