After I stopped trying, a rich woman trained me into a demon emperor.

10,000 meters above the ground.

The violent airflow shattered against Zhou Ran's protective demonic energy, and the piercing howl was completely blocked by the clouds.

The remaining two Black Dragon Society ninjas had long since lost their previous arrogance.

In Zhou Ran's eyes, their high-tech wingsuits, which they were so proud of, were nothing more than a few pieces of scrap metal covered with circuit boards.

accelerate.

A sudden turn of events.

Two high-powered turbocharged engines left messy white streaks in the sea of ​​clouds, and decoy grenades exploded one after another, attempting to disrupt the vision of this god of death.

Zhou Ran stood on the Zanpakuto, and deep within his purple-gold demonic eyes, several dark gold patterns slowly rotated.

In his view, the vitality of these two people was more dazzling than a torch in the dark night.

"Trying to leave?"

Zhou Ran lightly touched the blade with his toes.

In the blink of an eye.

He had blocked the path of a ninja's flight.

The ninja's pupils suddenly shrank to pinpoints, and he gripped the high-frequency vibrating blade tightly with both hands, making a desperate horizontal slash at Zhou Ran's neck.

"Baka yarou!"

He unleashed his ninjutsu, delivering a powerful blow.

only.

Zhou Ran didn't look at the sharp blade that could cut through a tank.

He allowed the blade to strike the protective demonic energy.

Click!

That was the sound of alloy shattering.

The shattered blade tip bounced off and embedded itself in the ninja's shoulder blade, much to the ninja's horrified gaze.

Zhou Ran's left arm suddenly shot out.

The black jade kylin pattern was ignited at this moment.

Dark scales were faintly visible on his arm, and his five fingers were hooked.

It easily pierced through the special protective armor and firmly gripped the opponent's collarbone.

"The first one."

Zhou Ran's words were cold and hard as iron.

A burst of violent demonic energy erupted from his fingertips.

The ninja's body twisted violently in mid-air.

Then, with a muffled thunderous sound, the entire system, costing hundreds of millions, was blasted into dust.

The last person completely broke down.

He abandoned his escape attempt, his hands forming dark shadows as he frantically created hand seals.

He gradually blended into the darkness.

"Shadow Shield?"

A mocking smile curled at the corner of Zhou Ran's lips.

This kind of desperate tactic in front of the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation is ridiculously clumsy.

He moved swiftly, appearing instantly above the man's head, and stomped down heavily with his right foot, carrying immense force.

The void exploded.

The invisible pressure blasted the Jonin who was trying to escape into the sea of ​​clouds below.

Zhou Ran swooped down and grabbed the other person's neck tightly with one hand.

As the purple-gold demonic eyes shifted.

Zhou Ran peeled back the layers of his memories like unraveling a cocoon.

A heart-wrenching scream resounded deep within his mind.

Countless fragments of memory were forcibly stripped away.

The secret of the Song family patriarch.

The blood sacrifice at Lock Dragon Well.

There's also the Black Dragon Society's so-called "plan to steal the country."

"Interesting. Since you want to play big, I'll play along."

Zhou Ran casually snapped the other person's throat.

As the Yin-Yang Technique was activated, the two instantly transformed into a dried-up corpse.

Then the demonic fire ignited, turning into ashes that scattered across the earth.

He suppressed his murderous aura and slid towards the giant beast enveloped in neon lights.

……

Beijing.

The next morning.

Stalls in Nancheng Hutong.

The smell of cooking oil mixed with the rich, slightly sour aroma of fermented soybean juice spread through the morning mist.

Fatty Wang sat on a small stool, clutching a fried dough ring and intently chewing on a bowl of soy milk.

He was much stronger than before, and the aura of the Golden Body Technique flowed beneath his skin.

"Boss, another steamer of buns, please!"

No sooner had the fat man finished speaking than a series of hurried footsteps echoed from the alley entrance.

Dozens of men wearing black vests and covered in tattoos rushed over, carrying crowbars.

The bald man leading the group swaggered around, holding two old walnuts in his hands, making a cracking sound.

"You fatso, have you thought this through?"

The bald man stepped on the stool next to the fat man.

"The places that the Wang family has set their sights on have never gone wrong."

"Take the penalty and get out of here, you might still survive."

The fat man shook his head helplessly and swallowed the last bite of the steamed bun.

"The contract has been signed and the money has been paid."

If they want the land, they should have someone from the Wang family who can speak on the matter.

"You errand boy aren't qualified to talk to me, Fatty."

The fat man picked up the soy milk, took a sip, and wiped his mouth.

Ever since Ran Ge started living off a woman, he's finally stood up for himself.

Not only did they find a kidney donor for his mother.

He's no longer the cowardly guy who hid behind the counter repairing phones.

With Ran Ge's legacy, his life was prepared to pave the way for Ran Ge.

The bald man, enraged, laughed instead.

"I think you really want to attend a banquet!"

In this area, I am the law!

He suddenly overturned the square table.

Soy milk was spilled all over the floor, and the white porcelain bowl shattered.

"Shoot! Shoot into the smoking area!"

A dozen or so men attacked simultaneously, smashing their weapons into the back of the fat man's head with a sharp sound.

Fatty Wang remained seated and unmoved.

He reached out his chubby hand and, just as the table was about to tip over, grabbed two meat buns that were about to fall to the ground.

when!

The first solid iron rod struck the fat man on the back of the neck.

Instead of the sound of bones cracking, there was a dull echo of metal colliding.

A layer of dark golden light flowed across Fatty Wang's neck.

The crowbar bent into a bizarre arc upon impact, and the recoil caused the burly man's hand to split open instantly, causing him to scream and let go.

Fatty Wang slowly stuffed the steamed bun into his mouth, oil dripping down his chin.

He chewed on his steamed bun and mumbled his comments indistinctly.

"What a waste of this authentic douzhi (fermented mung bean juice)."

The remaining men stood there, stunned.

The bald man rubbed his eyes, thinking he was seeing a ghost.

"Use a knife!"

Stab him to death!

A tattooed man pulled out a switchblade and stabbed the fat man hard in the side.

Fatty Wang didn't dodge.

The knife tip pierced the clothes, making a sound like a sharp blade cutting through old cowhide.

The clothes were torn, revealing the skin underneath, which had a brass-like texture.

The spring-loaded blade snapped instantly, and a piece of steel grazed the tattooed man's face as it flew past.

Fatty Wang patted the dust off his waist.

"This vest is quite expensive."

"You can't afford to pay back what Ran gave you."

All the diners around left.

The breakfast shop owner squatted behind the oil vat, clutching his head tightly, trembling all over.

Upon seeing this, the bald man became enraged.

He snatched the iron pipe and swung it with all his might at the fat man's temple.

Fatty Wang remained unmoved, even picking up a glass of soy milk from the next table and casually drinking it.

Bang!

The iron pipe was hammered in firmly.

Fatty Wang's head was only tilted slightly by half an inch.

Instead, the iron pipe dented a large hole at the point of impact, and the bald man's entire arm was shaken sore and weak.

"Have you made enough of a scene?"

Fatty Wang put down his bowl and twisted his neck.

The joints made a cracking sound, like muffled thunder rumbling in the gaps between the bones.

The bald man staggered back three steps, and the iron pipe clattered to the ground.

"you……

What kind of monster are you?

The fat man ignored him.

He turned his head and looked at a shadowy spot at the corner of the alley.

There was a young man sitting there.

Wearing a black hooded sweatshirt and faded jeans, he was elegantly eating a bowl of fried liver.

He didn't look up the whole time.

But just sitting there gave the narrow alley a suffocating, sticky feeling.

Now that Brother Ran is here.

Then this farce should come to an end.