I can return to the age of mysterious
Chapter 225 - 225 157 Borrowed by Ability (5200)_1

Chapter 225: 157 Borrowed by Ability (5200)_1 Chapter 225: 157 Borrowed by Ability (5200)_1 For a moment, the room fell quiet. The delegates from the Northern Mystery Martial World ceased their actions, turning their heads one after another to look over.

Their sharp eyes projected like lasers, leaving the scar-faced man feeling like he had been seen right through, as if he were standing naked before them.

The hairs on his arms stood on end, inch by inch.

It felt like being targeted by top predators, a whole pack of them. The scar-faced man was momentarily paralyzed where he stood.

His brain went blank, instinctively scared, but the side effects of his beast blood transfusion kicked in. In simple terms, the scar-faced man continued his previous thought abruptly, “It was you who was called Dusk, right?”

He pointed his finger at a lean old man in a striped suit who had descended from the staircase above. Compared to the abnormal crowd around, a white-haired, kindly smiling old man seemed most normal.

Seeing the scar-faced man point at him, Mian, who had been dubbed the Demon Lion in his old days, revealed a warm, hearty smile.

He opened his mouth wide, showing still white, gleaming teeth.

“Do you know this man, Casio?”

“I don’t know him.”

Casio shook his head, answering the question honestly.

“Ah, wait, I came here to…”

The scar-faced man suddenly felt something was not quite right.

“Good.”

After hearing Casio’s words, Mian nodded in agreement. Suddenly a strong gust blew through the room, and Mian instantaneously appeared in front of the scar-faced man. His hands were rendered into blurry black afterimages as they streaked past the scar-faced man’s left and right scapulae like lightning.

Following that, a palm landed on his chest, and the scar-faced man retreated, knocked back repeatedly while Casio pulled Iri inside.

Then, with a snap, the door was shut.

Outside, the scar-faced man, thrown into disarray by a single palm strike, shook his head and couldn’t help but curse, which was soon followed by violent coughing. He felt suffocated in his chest and was about to check his condition.

“Huh?”

“Where the hell are my hands!?”

“Where are my hands!”

“Ahhhhhh!”

The belated excruciating pain hit him like a tidal wave, contorting his face, while sweat poured out from him profusely.

In the drizzling rain, a man stood in front of a small building with both his arms, still dressed in their sleeves, lying on the ground. The cross-sections at his shoulders were a blurry mess of flesh, with blood spraying out from his severed arteries.

“Growls…”

Hearing the horrific cries outside, Mian let out a long sigh and massaged his old waist, “It really is, the older you get, the easier you get mad. Years of self-improvement and cultivation, but all my inner peace is gone just like that…”

Next to him, Duomeng, who was practicing his boxing, rolled his eyes. Does his uncle not understand? This clearly shows that, as there is hope for his body to return to its peak condition, his heart has started to become restless again. Young Mian was reckless and brutal, obsessed with martial arts, he often risked others’ lives in battle and liked to constantly challenge masters from all walks of life.

Together with Duomeng’s master Maro, they were known as the Two Lions of Evil.

Mian’s so-called self-cultivation was nothing more than due to old age and declining energy. He has no hope of stepping into a higher realm of martial arts, so he only seemed cold and indifferent. Once he reignites his passion for martial arts, Mian will certainly not be content with obscurity.

Severing someone else’s arms was merely an appetizer. If they hadn’t been at the enemy’s main base and had to be somewhat cautious, based on the scar-faced man’s arrogant demeanor, if he pointed his finger at Mian from the get-go, he would have met a truly miserable end.

There are those who have taken the wrong name, but none who has miscalled the nickname.

The demonic lion in his youth was indeed very domineering.

Meanwhile, Casio chatted with Iri while accepting the food that was brought over. He acted as if the debt-collecting scar-faced man had never appeared.

It was this guy who mistook him for someone else, what does Casio care?

Besides, why should he return the Dark Source borrowed with his own merit? Do you know how hard it was to get loan information from the information peddlers? The distance from the Crossbow base to the Iron Blood Bar is not close at all…

This scar-faced man must belong to the Black Wolf Society. If the Black Wolf Society retaliated against Casio, he wouldn’t be afraid. He is just lacking a control group to verify the usefulness of the Secret Soul power to the representatives of the Northern Mystery Martial World.

Wait a minute… isn’t there one already available outside the door?

Casio suddenly lifted his head and opened the door. Outside, the scar-faced man had already transformed into a werewolf to protect his life. He was trying to bite his two severed arms together to take away, perhaps he could reattach them using some strange ability. At this moment, the scar-faced man’s rear end was sticking up high, and his face was rubbing against the ground like a pig rooting for food.

Hearing the door open, the scar-faced man suddenly looked up fearfully from his kneeling position and, seeing Casio, made a face as if he were about to weep but couldn’t: “Damn it, what do you want to do now?”

As it proved, some people’s dirty words do not always mean to insult others, they may also be some form of habitual phrasing. Those who are familiar would be okay with it, knowing that this is just how you talk. Those who are unfamiliar would think you are cursing at them.

The scar-faced man is like this: he was overzealous while doing his usual job of debt collection, and then he found himself short of two arms.

And it seemed like he was about to become some kind of dangerous experimental subject.

Truly, trouble lurks in the mouth…

Half an hour later.

The scar-faced man had his arms reattached by the goatee-bearded old man Hadi, a miraculous doctor who appeared to employ some special ability. Of course, the arms that were once severed off were by no means as useful as before.