Zhou Jiang volunteered: "Brother An, I'll go."
"Go!"
Zhou Jiang, who had overcome the harsh environment, was full of energy and ran towards the insects.
When the distance was only five meters, he jumped high and landed on top of the insect.
The knife rose and fell, and the insect was attacked in the vitals, and blue blood spurted out of its head.
"Brother An, that's a bit too weak."
"How much stronger do you think you are at the fourth level? There's an eighth level warrior over there. Let's see if you have the ability to take him down."
…
Night falls.
In the glazed tower of Guangming City.
"Has our Bright City ranked in the top 100?" Governor Barron leaned back in his chair, twirling a golden pistol in his left hand, his pale black face flashing with the shadow of the gun under the light.
The prophet replied, "According to the latest prophecy, if we adopt the previous plan, Bright City will rank ninety-seventh, and Purple City will drop over three thousand."
Barron shook his head. "At this stage, many trains have prophets. I'm not sure if Zicheng has one too."
The prophet nodded in agreement. "Also, I just predicted that there will be unpredictable changes in the future. This means that many prophets are already predicting the list, and the final result may not be ninety-seventh. Considering that there may be a prophet in Purple City, should we change our plans?"
Barron stood up and walked onto the balcony, gazing at the distant mountains.
"The prophet's game isn't that simple. So what if I change my plan? From now on, I'll be making a lot of redundant decisions and doing a lot of thankless tasks every day. You don't need predictions anymore, because even I don't know what I'll do in seven days."
Barron suddenly turned around and asked his intelligent brain, "What's the name of the Purple City train conductor?"
"Chen An."
"Very good. As a neighbor, I want to learn his methods."
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