Zongman: All Heavens and Worlds Begin with the Devil's Curse

He absolutely could not let Zhou Lan leave like this; he wanted to turn this test of strength into a true battlefield for victory.

A burst of light appeared, and Jackie Chan and Tru got up from the ground and charged again.

But to their despair, a terrifying pressure descended upon them in an instant.

It was as if an invisible hand was slapping them down from the sky and slamming them into the ground.

When Lope reactivated the Scroll of Gravity to help himself and Jackie Chan Tru resist the pull of gravity, he could only watch that increasingly smaller figure.

It gradually disappeared from his sight.

“Mr. Lopez…” Jackie Chan began.

“This is not your fault. The Moon Demon is far more powerful than I imagined,” Lope sighed.

Zhou Lan is right; time is not on his side.

Whether it's the evil forces that have been forcibly suppressed in this world, or the precarious power blocking the way within Bogang's belly.

The devil is emboldened.

"This is a test of confidence. He has seen through us. When he comes back, it will be a tough battle."

Lope's eyes were unfocused, and his fists were clenched.

Chapter 217 Who stole my life!

With a flick of the whip, the carriage slowly moved forward.

Valon suddenly felt that his life was very bitter.

He didn't know what was wrong with his life. He was just an ordinary rickshaw puller, yet he was fantasizing about a life of wealth where money flowed like water.

Laughter from wealthy gentlemen came from the carriage behind him. Valon gritted his teeth, his hand holding the riding crop trembling slightly.

He's been having a very strange dream lately.

In my dream, I was the richest man in the world, with trusted and capable subordinates on my left and right, and countless riches flowing into my palm with the slightest gesture.

In his dream, he stood in a strange, towering building that he couldn't understand, looking down at the outside world through a transparent glass wall.

The streets beneath my feet are unfamiliar, and the people coming and going wear strange clothes that are different from those of this era, moving around in square boxes.

In the world of his dream, he controlled unparalleled wealth and power, practically the master of the other side of the world.

It's so weird.

He had been a coachman for others since he could remember.

Those strangely shaped skyscrapers, those incomprehensible powers—he never truly possessed them.

Especially when he wakes up from a dream and compares it with his current situation, he feels more and more that something is being suppressed in his heart.

It's like something is about to explode, but it's been trapped and locked up.

He felt like he had forgotten something very important.

But what exactly has been forgotten?

he does not know.

The more I think about it, the more my mind aches.

Those dreams are like looking through a mirror or the moon's reflection in water—blurred and indistinct, impossible to see clearly or touch.

The horse's hooves gradually slowed down, and Valon's mind went blank again, lost in a daze.

What jolted him awake from his daze was a burning pain.

The whip struck his face, and Valon fell off his seat and rolled to the ground.

He touched the bloodstains on his cheek, his face showing terror.

Looking up, an annoying face came into view.

"Useless trash, why did the carriage stop? I told you to drive, not to dream on the carriage!"

Valon had no idea how his riding whip had ended up in the hands of this superior man, but the burning pain startled him and made him uneasy.

He made a very serious mistake.

"Driver, tell me what you're thinking? Are you eyeing some noble lady? Or your master's money?" The upper-class man gripped his riding whip and walked step by step toward Valon.

This is Valmont's life.

It was also the life of a lowly coachman.

"I didn't..." Valon retorted weakly.

For some reason, he felt as if a fire was burning in his heart, and his gaze toward the upper class who was closing in on him gradually turned crimson.

"Oh ho, you dare to look me in the eye? Trying to rebel, huh!"

Snapped--

Another lash landed on Valon's neck, leaving a bloody mark.

pain……

Valon's vision suddenly became blurry; the opponent's blows were extremely forceful, and the inherent difference in their status was obvious.

Even if this superior person in front of him beat him to death here, he probably wouldn't be punished.

But the pain in his body suddenly made him feel much more at ease.

His eyes were blurry, and he couldn't see the scene in front of him clearly.

But the images in my mind, those images from my dreams, are becoming clearer and clearer.

He stood atop a tall building, dressed in neat yet peculiar clothes, holding a cup filled with red liquid, and confidently looking down at his feet.

"No, this is not my life!" Valon suddenly roared.

"What are you babbling about? I think you've gone mad!" The superior man lashed out with his whip, but suddenly felt a resistance.

Valon gripped the riding crop tightly, his eyes bloodshot as he stared at himself, saying each word slowly and deliberately:

"You, someone stole my life!"

“That coachman has gone mad,” the upper-class man said, pointing at Valon and laughing at his companion.

He pulled hard, trying to give the madman in front of him a few more blows to bring him to his senses.

But the force emanating from Valon's tightly gripped whip was terrifying.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't pull the whip out of Valon's hand.

"You bastard!" The upper-class man's face showed his annoyance. He simply threw the whip aside and strode towards Valon.

"He's probably gone mad. Just kill him like you would a mad cow," a voice came from the side.

"it is good."

The upper-class companions covered their eyes, seemingly unable to bear witnessing this cruel scene.

This should have been a lesson learned without any suspense; the driver lived a life of hunger and cold, and looked extremely thin.

How dare someone like that resist?

Normally, you can just think about it and dream about it in your heart, but how dare you brazenly tell them that you stole his life?

"Want to rebel? Then die."

The superior man brandished his fists and pounced on Valon, his fists, as big as sandbags, landing on his thin body like meteors.

Rebellion? Rebellion against what?

After a moment, wiping the blood from his fist, the upper-class man spat viciously at Valon: "Are you awake yet, coachman? The real pain is yet to come."

"Cough cough..."

Valon slowly rose from the muddy ground, leaning on the carriage, looking utterly disheveled.

He was practically beaten to death, barely able to catch his breath, but he still forced himself to stay upright.

"If I deserve to die, I should fail and die honorably in the life that is rightfully mine, rather than in a fictional one."

His expression and his words were as hard as a stubborn stone.

He wanted to resist, but he had no power.

He was certain that everything in his dreams was real, and that someone had stolen it all from his life!

He failed in his dreams many times, but he always got back up.

There was no reason not to stand up this time either.

Looking at the man before him, he spat out a mouthful of blood and arrogantly declared, "Come on, kill me, kill Valmont!"

"Good, good, good!" After saying "good" three times in a row, the other person seemed to be amused by the situation.

If someone suddenly saw their dog stand up, point at them, and say, "You stole my life," they would probably think the same thing.

"Then I'll grant your wish, you madman!"

The superior man cursed angrily, having long since lost all restraint, and lunged at Valon with his fists waving.

Valon closed his eyes.

He suddenly thought.

If I had honestly worked as a rickshaw driver for the rest of my life, would I have avoided ending up like this?

But a voice inside him kept telling him in his dreams that it shouldn't be like this.

The voice was familiar, as if it were his own.

Roaring the name of Valon, filled with inexplicable rage, he shouted at himself.

"Valon, you must correct all of this that has been altered!"

What has been altered? Who am I?

Valon knew nothing; all he knew was that death seemed to be drawing near.

Just as the wind from the punch hit his face, Valon suddenly heard a familiar yet unfamiliar voice coming from behind him, no, from above him.

"Valon, it seems you're doing poorly in this era."

Chapter 218 Your Excellency, Valon... is back.

Someone is calling my name.

Valon suddenly opened his eyes, and in his line of sight, the fist stopped in front of him, only a step away from his face.

But the fist stopped, as if it were frozen in mid-air.

A strange, unreal feeling suddenly welled up inside Valon.

This sentence...

He felt he had heard the voice somewhere before, but the owner of the voice seemed completely different.

The superior man before him was filled with terror, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, revealing his fear.

Following his gaze, Valon looked up.

Like a close-up shot locked in by a telephoto lens, a strange figure floats silently above his head.

He wore a purple and red Taoist robe, the attire of another country.

But its appearance didn't look human at all.

A cool yet irresistible aura enveloped him, and Valon blinked in confusion.

In a daze, the dark clouds that had been hanging over the world seemed to have dimmed.

The shadow that had shrouded the first half of his life seemed to dissipate in a tremor.

It dispelled the gloom and dark clouds.

The moon has come out.

He had definitely sensed that aura somewhere before.