Chapter 33: Dear Paper People, Let Us Awaken Together!

Gu Dongjue did not speak again, nor did he even glance at her. He turned and strode out of the café, with Jiang Wanhao immediately grabbing Su Xia to follow him.

Perhaps he wanted to tell me he had landed. Maybe he also wanted to say he had to return to the company for overtime and would likely be home late. A chaotic flurry of thoughts rushed into my mind. I began to truly let my imagination run wild, staring blankly at my phone for a long while before pulling at the corners of my mouth in a silent smile.

I was in desperate need of help at that moment. The first person who came to mind was Tong Yue, but as her name scrolled across my phone screen, I paused. In the end, I didn't call her, but instead called my new assistant, Lan Xin, to ask her to help me get a clean pair of trousers.

Qi Yongyi realized it instantly: Ding Yi had appeared earlier solely to stall for time. In that short minute, the people had already scattered. Aside from a few individuals being interviewed by the media, who was there left to find?

However, for the other competing teams, this news was like a gift from heaven. The Chinese team was a formidable contender for the championship in this culinary competition; with them eliminated, the chances of winning for others had greatly increased.

Sitting steadily on the cushions before him were Lu Fengxian, Wang Lun, and Yinhun. The three wore different expressions: Lu Fengxian was rubbing his belly with an air of composure, the fleshy warts on his purple face glistening with oil. Wang Lun looked indignant and was clenching his fists, as if he had been wronged. Among them, only Yinhun remained indifferent.

"I have some, but you’d better not eat it. Your health is fine, but he isn't. With his excessive indulgence, he’ll probably be a dried-up husk in two years," Qin Yan said, glancing at Zhao Yuxuan.

Zhiye did not address Qiaoxiu as "Son of the Forest" like other high elves. After spending so much time on the spellcasters' forum, her way of speaking had begun to lean toward the style used there.

"Fine, it's a deal." Fang Tuan rubbed his face, glared fiercely at Wang Man, and then left with his group.

"You don't need to speak for him; I’m asking him!" My sister-in-law ignored my mother’s intervention entirely, glaring hatefully at my brother.

She heard someone seemingly sifting through the fragrant bait, the crisp sound of the collision a bit heavy, and she frowned.

However, after that incident, no matter how keen the two of them were, the pervasive sense of lurking danger had vanished.

A hint of ferocity appeared on his face. Zhang Le likely realized that the Huang family was gradually uncovering the truth about Huang Yi’s situation. It seemed a chaotic battle was about to erupt.

Having been through countless life-and-death struggles, although tomorrow's confrontation would be difficult, I could handle it as usual.

Li Yuanfang’s passive ability allowed him to see nearby enemies for one second every six seconds. Just as both sides were testing each other, he spotted the opposing jungler, Damo, behind the jungle area near the flamingos, which was why he didn't commit to a fight with Yu Ji and retreated in time.

The reason Zhang Le questioned this information was that his own soul was connected to the fragments. His mentor had once told him that if a War God were to perish, they could divide their soul into nine memory fragments, thereby gaining a chance at rebirth.

Admitting that his medical skills were lacking, he felt deeply apologetic and remained silent for a very long time.

Just as the giant serpent was circling Ye Tian, a car inside a university near the southern suburbs drove frantically into the base. The driver barely acknowledged the gate guards before slamming on the gas and charging inside.

"Do you guys also feel that the Rogue Team’s performance is vastly different from the qualifiers? It’s like they’ve been replaced by a different team," Wang Zhiqiang asked in a low voice.

When I took it out, I only opened it briefly to look; seeing that it was just some letters, I left it on the carriage.

The stone pillars were ink-black and of an archaic design, each one carved with nine ferocious long dragons.

Lan Yingchen no longer cared about the half-dead Li Junxiu on the floor. With the same speed he had used to rush into the bathroom earlier, he bolted out, sprinting toward the source of the sound as if he had wind-fire wheels attached to his feet.

A powerful pressure descended from the sky, brilliant and dazzling, tearing through the heavens and the space itself before crashing into the depths of Dragon City.

With a sudden squeeze, the old Taoist’s soft sword shattered into pieces, and the force continued to transmit to his hand.

Before the words were finished, a crisp, refreshing voice came from inside the room, and a cold hand coiled around Xu Heng’s arm like a serpent.

Dong Zijin’s attitude and words completely shattered Xia Wei’s "self-delusion."

Under his horrified gaze, the iron hoof of the armored rhinoceros stomped heavily upon him, turning him into a pile of mud.

The night was hazy, and in the colorful, flamboyant flower house, faces painted with garish makeup swayed on the stage, looking boneless and bewitching the world.

Bai Bing’s large, watery eyes blinked continuously as she looked at Xu Wei with a dazed expression, as if asking, "Who am I, and where am I?"

The next moment, Ouyang Feng’s face twisted into a snarl. He pulled a green bamboo tube from his sleeve, spat a drop of his vital essence onto it, and threw it high into the air.

Zhao Mingzhe was somewhat surprised; he hadn't expected that even while completely restrained by the Spirit-Locking Chain, Ouyang Hai’s strength, revealed through his roar, was likely equal to or even higher than Lu Ping’s.

There were two possibilities: either it was left over from before, or they had collectively entered a dormant mode, with the defense mechanism reactivating when someone entered.

The earth-yellow halo formed waves of yellow surges, like a boundless sea of sand, rushing down from mid-air.

Gelan acted as if nothing were the matter, hiccuping while beckoning Locke to come over and take the golden harp he had placed beside him—a harp he had bought at a very low price from a half-elf merchant, which had sat unused for a long time. Now was a good time to get rid of it.

Perhaps that was one of the streamer’s selling points—frequently giving the camera to that husky while spouting all sorts of nonsense.

The bellhop at the entrance was extremely sharp-eyed; he recognized the two rascals who had pretended to be wealthy tycoons that day and immediately turned to run into the restaurant.