Chapter 3972 — Easily Beaten Off
The Blossom Guardian · Page 2 of 2
After a good while, the three who had narrowly escaped with their lives finally recovered from their terror. Cowering, they stole a distant glance at Wei Zhao, then turned and fled screaming as though they had seen a ghost.
If one had to put their feelings at this moment into words, there were only four: tears without weeping.
They had come to settle scores with a good-for-nothing like the Rag King, a man who did not even know what fighting was—and instead had inexplicably kicked an iron plate. Where was the justice in that?
Judging by this ruthless fellow, he must be from Chongtian Pavilion, surely? At the thought, the three silently counted themselves lucky not to have been crippled!
Wei Zhao curled his lip in a faint smile of disdain and let the three flee in disarray. He had no intention of wiping them out—otherwise, had he wished it, these blind fools would long since have been dead men.
"They're all gone now. You can come out," Wei Zhao suddenly said toward a certain boulder in the ruins. This one hid well—at first even he had not noticed. But when the fist intent of the Wild Fire Fist had swept past earlier, there had clearly been some movement behind it.
For a long while, there was still no movement behind the boulder—not even the faintest trace of aura could be sensed. By rights, with Wei Zhao's keen perception, at such a distance nothing could escape his notice; it should have been impossible not to detect even a breath.
Anyone else might have wondered whether it had been an illusion. But Wei Zhao was quite certain. He smiled slightly and said, "If you don't come out now, don't blame me for being rude—and giving you another punch."
With that, a scorching fist intent once again gathered around Wei Zhao's body, and only then did something finally stir behind the boulder.
"Wait, wait, I'm coming out!" A bedraggled figure immediately leaped out from the ruins, his clothes burned to tatters from head to toe, his face blackened with soot—at first glance, a living, breathing African refugee.
Before Wei Zhao could speak, the man was already bowing and scraping: "Brother, I really didn't mean to steal your spirit beast materials! You'd already thrown them away—at most I just picked them back up to put to good use. How can that count as stealing?"
Wei Zhao was taken aback, then caught between laughter and tears. From that bizarre appearance alone he might not have recognized the man, but the moment he heard his voice, it was clear—this was the very Rag King he had come to find.
"Rag King, why don't you think it over carefully—did you or did you not steal my spirit beast materials?" Wei Zhao decided not to call him out, and instead teased him with a raised brow.
"This... this really can't be called stealing! You people have no eye for value—you threw away good things as if they were garbage, and when I picked them up you insist on calling it theft, and you even want me to pay you spirit jade. Tell me, isn't that unfair?" The Rag King did not dare look Wei Zhao in the eye at all, merely pulling a long, mournful face.
"Unfair? Then tell me—just what garbage did you pick up? Maybe you misjudged it too?" Wei Zhao said with an air of amusement.
"Garbage? You dare call what I went to such pains to salvage garbage?" At these words, the Rag King was like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. Instantly shedding his cowardly manner, he sneered down at Wei Zhao. "Then let me open your eyes. Black Toad Tail, Foxbear Bone, Wolfsbane Spider Down—to you laymen these are worthless trash, but in the hands of an artificer like me, once properly used, they are priceless treasures, not one bit inferior to those materials that cost a hundred spirit jade a piece. It's only that you don't know quality when you see it—who else is there to blame?" R1152