Jackie Chan: The Supreme Sorcerer, invited by his father to come out of seclusion

Chapter 141 Go and retrieve the armor of the immortal god!

The headquarters was gloomy.

The screen is flickering.

The light is dim.

The air was filled with a strange smell, a mixture of overheated electronic components and cheap cigars.

on the screen.

That familiar round.

A pale, lifeless moon.

It hangs there quietly.

That eerie, deep blue is gone.

everything,
Everything seemed to have returned to normal.

"Hey, looks like... that big guy's done for?"

Rasu touched the back of his bald head, his tone uncertain but filled with the relief of surviving a close call.

"Hmph, finally it's quiet." A-Fen crossed his arms, habitually pursed his lips, but there was no sign of relief on his face.

Zhou seemed a little restless, pushed up his glasses, and muttered under his breath, "Someone who could even color the moon... how on earth was that guy defeated?"

Only Valon,

Or,

The Holy Lord, who was occupying Valon's body, was still leaning back in his chair, looking languid.

His slender fingers tapped lightly on the armrest, producing a monotonous tapping sound.

It was as if the breathtaking, world-ending events that had just unfolded on the screen were nothing more than a boring silent film.

A faint smile played at the corners of his lips.

Extremely light,

Yet it carried a chilling, all-knowing quality.

(Zhou Lan... that simple-minded idiot,)
(Possessing immense gravitational pull, yet squandering it like a wild beast.)

(What a waste!)

He lightly brushed off non-existent dust from the front of his suit jacket.

graceful movements

Yet it exudes a deep-seated, condescending arrogance.

"Just a loser."

The Lord's voice, emanating from Valon's vocal cords, carried a slightly hoarse, magnetic quality, and undisguised contempt.

"Hell is where trash like him belongs."

Regarding this so-called...elder brother.

The Holy Lord felt no regret or sympathy whatsoever.

even……

There was a slight...

Almost imperceptible...

Secret pleasure.

Curse Blue

Among the eight great demons, he was one of the few who could make him feel a sense of threat even in his prime.

Now, this trouble has disappeared on its own.

It couldn't be better.

(Gravity? The power of the moon?)
(Ultimately, it was an external force.)
(How can anything compare to... this endless, pervasive... pure darkness!)
The Holy Lord closed his eyes and carefully felt his body.

That surging, powerful black energy, almost bursting forth from its body...
It was a feeling of being in control of everything, something I had never experienced before.

This is the power that transcends everything!

This is the most fundamental law in the universe!
(As for the true source of that power...)
A vague thought, like a ghost, tried to creep into his consciousness.

But it was instantly and mercilessly extinguished by the Holy Lord.

(Hmph, that's not important.)

(Most importantly, this power now belongs to me!)

He suddenly opened his eyes, and those blue eyes that originally belonged to Valon were now burning with two clusters of scarlet flames.

It was filled with violence, ambition, and undisguised greed.

His gaze, like a cold blade, swept over his three trembling subordinates.

"Don't just stand here like a log."

"We have more important things to do."

A cold, cruel smile, belonging to Shendu, appeared on Valon's face.

“Those…things that belong to me,”

"It's time...to take them back, one by one!"

A new game of chess.

With the moon calm.

Just now,
Silently
Kicked off.

The days slipped by quietly in a dull and oppressive atmosphere.

Zhou Lan was banished again, and the lunar crisis was resolved.

But He Xiangu's final warning about Ximu and the Black Curse hung heavy in the hearts of everyone who knew the truth, like a dark cloud that could not be dispelled.

Old Man's Antique Shop
Jackie Chan leaned back on the creaking old sofa, holding a cup of cold tea in his hand, his eyes vacant, lost in thought.

Xiaoyu sat on the carpet next to her, hugging her knees, unusually quiet, only occasionally stealing a glance at her father with his furrowed brows.

Tru, like a silent little mountain, stood in the corner. The experience of being possessed by a god last time had taken a huge toll on him, and he had not yet fully recovered.

The shop was filled with an atmosphere that was a mixture of dust, musty smells from old books, and... a faint sense of unease.

My father was still hunched over, buried in piles of ancient books, but unlike his usual leisurely demeanor, his face was now filled with anxiety and solemnity.

The metal-covered book, brought back from the mysterious land, lay open before him, its twisted spiral patterns radiating a faint yet eerie light, as if they were alive.

"Oh no...it's not working...it still won't work..."

The old man scratched his already thinning hair in frustration, letting out a low grumble, "What on earth does this scribbled mess mean...?"

Westwood is a demon wizard.
The root of the black curse may be related to him; there was also a mysterious being in the past who could severely injure the eight great demons...

This information, like countless tangled threads, made the old man feel like his head was about to turn into mush.

"Dad, don't be too anxious,"

Jackie Chan put down his teacup and said reassuringly, "There's always a way."

"Oh, you make it sound so easy!"

His father glared at him, annoyed. "It's not a question of whether there's a solution or not! It's a question of time! Time is running out!"

"That Ximu, since he's a demon wizard and connected to that black curse, who knows where he's hiding now, plotting something wicked!"

"Isn't he still locked up in hell?"

"Jackie Chan, you're such an idiot. Do you really think a demon who can use magic to disrupt the human world would just stay in hell without any backup plan?"

The more Dad spoke, the more agitated he became, spitting as he spoke. "We're like standing next to a powder keg that could explode at any moment! We must find a way to control them as soon as possible!"

Just then, the old man's gaze swept over another set of documents that had just been compiled on the table. It was a record about... the relics of the immortal god.

His eyes suddenly lit up.
"I've got it!" Dad slapped his thigh, a hint of excitement mixed with a sense of determination on his face. "Oh dear, how could I have forgotten about this!"

"What? Dad, what did you think of?" Xiaoyu immediately perked up and came closer.

"The armor of an immortal god!" The old man's voice was filled with excitement. "According to the records here, in the ancient mountain temple on the west side of the city, which has been abandoned for many years, there is a piece of armor... said to be the armor worn by a god during the great war of the gods!"

"War Armor?"

Jackie Chan also became interested, "What's the use of that?"

"Oh dear, you ask your father? Who should your father ask?"

His father rolled his eyes at him. "The book only says that the armor contains powerful divine power. Perhaps... perhaps it can give us some inspiration! Or... maybe it can be used to deal with those demons!"

"Anyway, Jackie Chan!"

The old man suddenly pointed at Jackie Chan, "You, right now, immediately! Go and find that suit of armor for me!"

"Now?" Jackie Chan glanced out the window; it was already getting dark.
"Hey, now's the time! Are we waiting for the devil to come knocking on our door? Hurry up, hurry up!" The old man waved his hand impatiently.
Jackie Chan had no choice but to stand up and stretch his limbs. "Alright, I'll go."

"Uncle Long, I'll go with you!" Xiaoyu jumped up immediately.
"No way!" Jackie Chan and his father refused in unison.
“Jade, you stay at the shop and help your old man,” Jackie Chan said seriously. “This time… there might be danger.”

"Oh dear, that's right, you little brat, don't go and cause trouble!" the old man chimed in.

Xiaoyu pouted, looking unwilling, but seeing the resolute expressions on Jackie Chan and her father's faces, she had no choice but to give up.
(End of this chapter)