Boiling Beast Bloodline
Chapter 1558 - 471 Good Morning, Hollywood _2

Chapter 1558: Chapter 471 Good Morning, Hollywood _2

"Did you seek out that Druid prince because you’re hoping to connect with the influential figures of the Hundred Thousand Mountains?" The Aegean Flower blinked her dazzling big eyes, instantly guessing Old Liu’s intentions.

The Nightmare carriage silently parked by the roadside. The driver, a Ghoul, had a ruddy complexion radiating health and good nutrition.

This driver thought these three passengers were utterly disgusting, whispering on the street like this. And dressed in those shabby shrine monk outfits, enduring the oppressive heat without a hint of discomfort! Just a glance was enough to label them as bumpkins from the countryside—the kind who hadn’t experienced much of the world.

Watching the three bumpkins shuffle into the carriage one by one, the driver felt a pang of heartache. He had just replaced the seat cushions that morning—what if these yokels used them to wipe their boots later? It’s a countryside thing, after all.

"Although I’ve shaken off the lackeys Jia Bao sent to tail me, it won’t be long before they find me again as soon as I step onto the Martial Arts Platform. For the left-bank election, an event of this magnitude, there’s no telling how many pairs of eyes are watching. Should I stash you in the Space Ring for now, or book you a hotel for the time being?" Liu Zhentian held up the brand-new seat cushion, spat on it, and carefully wiped away the blood stains on his boots—the spoils of his victorious kick to the head of that silver-eyed Knight.

"Isn’t it obvious? We should book a hotel first!" Avril was eager to witness Richard’s heroic combat against the Demon Clan’s aerial knights. She waved her Biyaqiao 3000, nearly the size of a brick: "My Dewey is all set! We’ll contact you directly if anything comes up; the coordinates are already programmed!"

"With someone as formidable as you around, what are we afraid of? Our current plan is mostly complete anyway, so even if we’re exposed—it doesn’t matter!" Elise replied nonchalantly.

"Hearing that makes me so happy. Men love being praised for how powerful they are."

"Get lost... Just die, will you!"

The Nightmare carriage halted in front of a weapons shop, about five hundred yards from the Martial Arts Platform. From the ground here, the fierce aerial battle raging above wasn’t entirely visible.

The shopkeeper, a cavern demon adorned with beast-engraved carapace armor, watched as the three shrine monk-dressed outsiders stepped down from the carriage. One of them, tall and brawny, cursed under his breath as he flung a Black Shell Coin directly at the driver’s eye. The driver held onto the seat cushion, intending to argue, but received a direct hit from the latest model "Bone Link Jewel Box," cracking his skull on the spot.

Seeing the three outsiders glance around nervously before heading in his direction, the cavern demon couldn’t pinpoint why, but a sudden wave of apprehension took hold—as if what approached him was not three people, but a mountain or a beast.

When the silver-eyed one purchased a leather belt, two crystal long swords, five crystal daggers, one high-pressure crossbow tube, and two crystal telescopes, paying and leaving, the shopkeeper was still dumbfounded, his mouth agape.

As a cavern demon with extensive adventuring experience, this was the first time he realized that someone’s killing intent could be so utterly terrifying.

"Of all the silver-eyed warriors I’ve seen, this one is the most dashing—and the most ruthless." The shopkeeper shuddered involuntarily.

Liu Zhentian soared directly out of the window from the eighteenth floor of the "Eternal Sea" Grand Hotel. Anyone unaware might have thought someone was committing suicide by jumping.

Staying in the hotel’s luxurious suite had cost him a whole hundred Black Shell Coins. The hotel was around four hundred yards from the Martial Arts Platform, its vantage points offering crystal-clear views with crystal telescopes flickering with reflections at each window. His sudden appearance caused several people to fumble and drop their telescopes from the high floors.

Two aerial knights of the Demon Clan were still locked in combat above, yet to determine a victor. Having depleted their weapons, they were now fighting with bare hands and feet—each trade of blows landing with a palpable, visceral thud yet eliciting no cries of pain.

Liu Zhentian had just learned from Elise that, ten thousand years ago, the Demon Clan didn’t possess such audacious, death-defying spirit! Back then, they were indeed fierce and bloodthirsty but equally feared death. When faced with powerful Beamon warrior legions, their armies often crumbled before battle, retreating without a fight.

This proves that such "psychoanesthesia" must have been learned by the Demon Clan from Beamon in those days. In Beamon’s storied tradition, their warriors treated death with utter disdain! Only Beamon’s legacy—which seamlessly integrated its Olympic Competition with coronation gladiatorial combats and actual warfare—had ever disregarded casualty rates so completely!

In today’s light, the Demon Clan seems to have taken Beamon’s philosophy to an even more extreme level. They celebrate death like a joyous occasion—complete with fanfare and widespread congratulation—a madness outright defiant of ethical norms!

When such madness permeates warfare, its terrifying potency becomes evident, as seen in the left-bank election foreshadowing.

During the battle in Casablanca, Liu Zhentian’s debut on the first day instantly cowed the masses, preventing excessive bloodshed from breaking out. But now, observing the Martial Arts Platform in Starlight Avenue City, the white granite was crisscrossed with uneven, dull purple-red stains—clearly remnants of the combat results from the last two days!

Liu Zhentian knew his emergence was bound to attract countless gazes.

Compared to the aerial knights perched among volcanic wall caves, his attire was truly eccentric!

A massive cloak hung over his frame, cinched at the waist by an impossibly flamboyant belt. His feet rested on rotor wheels, while daggers lined his waist; two long swords in hand, with a high-pressure crossbow tube and airbag strapped to his back. If he had a mount, he might as well embody every leading profession in the Demon World!