A series of fierce fighting sounds came from the living room, along with the sinister laughter of the old weasel.
"Hissing farts that explode in the sky!"
There was a loud bang, and the roof of the villa was blown off.
A dark green mushroom cloud rose into the sky, shocking everyone and shattering windows.
Inside the villa, the cars were constantly blaring their alarms, and their windows were shattered by the blast.
From a distance, this scene looked just like an atomic bomb explosion.
Finally, with a deafening roar, even the villa collapsed, with debris flying everywhere and smoke filling the air.
As the old weasel's cultivation level continued to improve, the power of the gas it released also became increasingly stronger.
As for the assassin leader who had just captured them, he had already been smashed to pieces by a fart, exploding into a cloud of blood mist in mid-air.
"Hey, you shorty, how does my fart taste? Hehe..."
The old weasel wriggled its big buttocks and beckoned defiantly to the short, fat man opposite it, its arrogance extremely overbearing.
The short, fat man was so angry that his face turned green. If he hadn't held his breath in time, he would have been suffocated by the fumes.
Even so, he vomited several times, even bringing up his dinner from the night before.
"Ugh... ugh..."
"Damn it, you weasel, I'm going to skin you alive today."
After saying that, he pounced on the old weasel in mid-air, a sharp sword appearing in his hand without him even noticing.
The sword energy, like a startled swan, enveloped the old weasel cub.
"Go to hell!"
As expected of a first-rank martial arts master, he is a whole realm higher than that old weasel.
The old weasel chuckled maliciously, its body slipping away like an eel, nimbly circling behind its opponent. Its sharp claws, like steel hooks, suddenly grabbed at the back of its opponent's head.
Hearing a gust of wind behind him, the short, stout martial artist didn't turn around. Instead, he kicked the old weasel away.
Taking advantage of the opportunity, the old weasel leaned back nimbly, flipped several times in mid-air, dissipated the force, and grinned.
"Shorty, but surprisingly strong."
"However, you can't kill me, hehe..."
"Oh shit!"
This short, stout martial artist was most sensitive to others mocking his height.
But this old weasel kept calling him "shorty" and "shorty" incessantly, which infuriated him. His face darkened and turned ashen, and he pounced on the old weasel with lightning speed.
Surprisingly, this time the old weasel didn't dodge. Instead, it turned around, stuck out its big butt, and shouted loudly.
"Mani mani fairy fart!"
"Oh shit!"
The short, stout martial artist turned pale with fright, covered his nose with his hand, and hurriedly retreated.
Unexpectedly, the old weasel was just putting on an act, turning his head and smiling at him.
"This old man's method is called 'all's fair in war,' something I learned from the Thirty-Six Stratagems. Look how scared you are, hehe..."
Holy crap, even the old weasel is starting to study military strategy! This is outrageous!
"Fuck you!"
The short, fat man was so angry that his beard bristled and his eyes widened, his hair stood on end, and he brandished his long sword, charging forward once again.
"You son of a bitch's fart!"
At the crucial moment, the old weasel stuck out its big buttocks again, preparing to release the terrifying gas.
"Holy crap—"
The short, stout martial artist was so frightened that he retreated again, his face filled with surprise and uncertainty.
In fact, the weasel's stinky farts posed no fatal threat to him.
But this thing is disgusting.
As the saying goes, good shoes shouldn't be worn in dog poop; that's the point.
To his surprise, the old weasel was lying to him again, turning around and beckoning him with its finger.
"Hey, shorty, what's wrong, scared?"
"Why don't you join my followers and become one of my believers?"
The short, fat man was so angry he felt like his lungs were about to explode.
"I'll be your third uncle."
"Go to hell!"
"Bullshit!"
The old weasel repeated its old trick, sticking out its big buttocks again and trying to release gas once more.
Behind him, the short, stout martial artist subconsciously slowed down his charge, just in case. This old weasel was extremely cunning and treacherous, and might be deliberately trying to lure him into a trap.
"Hmph, you weasel, trying to fool me? I'm not that stupid."
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
From a great distance, the opponent unleashed several sharp sword energies at the old weasel.
The old weasel dodged left and right, looking quite disheveled. After several sword strikes, it finally let out a miserable howl, fell to the ground, and died after struggling for a few moments.
"You old weasel!"
Beside him, Xiahou Ba let out a heart-wrenching scream, filled with grief and rage, and charged towards the old weasel.
The short, stout martial artist grinned maliciously, finally relieved, and strode towards the old weasel.
"You damn weasel, watch how I skin you and use you as a cushion..."
Just as they reached him and before they could even make a move, the old weasel lying in the pool of blood leaped up from the ground. Judging from its swift and agile movements, it showed no signs of dying and wore a cunning smile.
"Hehe, you finally fell for it."
The old weasel chuckled wickedly, stuck out its big butt, and gave the short, fat man a solid fart.
The short, stout martial artist had no time to dodge and was hit squarely, flying backward like a kite with a broken string.
The two assassins who charged in from behind were instantly torn to pieces, turning into a cloud of blood mist.
"Ugh...ugh...you dead weasel...I'll cut you into a thousand pieces..."
The short, fat man's face turned green from the smell of the fart, and he flew into a rage, charging towards the old weasel like a tornado.
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