Chapter Ninety-Nine: The Eight Immortals Are Frightened to Tears

Feng Tianlin knew for certain that they had been dragged into the bizarre realm by their future selves.

Without overthinking, he rose from the ground, and Long Mengting and the others gathered around him.

They scrutinized Feng Tianlin from head to toe, their faces full of disbelief.

Long Mengting looked him over and, barely restraining herself from biting him, said, “Boss Doll, did you hack the game or something?”

Feng Tianlin gave her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“You were blasted to bits, and not only did you resurrect, but your clothes got fixed too?”

Blasted to bits? That strong?

Looking closer, indeed, the rope that had bound him was gone, all his clones had vanished. That Eight Immortals formation was truly extraordinary—it could distinguish his true self at a glance.

Qixuan’s eyes sparkled. “Who saved you? Why do they look so much like you?”

Feng Tianlin raised an eyebrow, flashing a sly smile. “He is me, and I am him.”

“You are him, and he is you?” Qixuan looked puzzled, then suddenly her eyes lit up.

“I get it now! He must be your original self. So that’s why you’re so strong?”

Feng Tianlin smiled faintly, neither confirming nor denying.

His silence was taken as consent. Pride and security swelled in Qixuan’s heart—if their leader was this powerful, what was there to fear?

Chimei and Explosive Mad Bear stepped forward to greet him as well.

Chimei hovered around Feng Tianlin. “Boss, you’re insanely strong.”

Feng Tianlin waved his hand dismissively. “Just average. But you, you actually absorbed Cheng Lian’s soul. Can the souls of bizarre creatures really be harnessed like that?”

“I’m not entirely sure. It seems only powerful bizarre creatures have souls I can absorb.”

Feng Tianlin nodded. Then Explosive Mad Bear pointed toward a direction. “That human is running away. Aren’t you going to do anything?”

Feng Tianlin turned to look. Fan Tianxing was desperately fleeing, with the other surviving humans close behind.

They had come in full of vigor and confidence; now, each one looked utterly defeated.

Fan Tianxing felt like vomiting. He had hoped that if he couldn’t capture the owner of the bizarre realm, he could simply seal him into a painting and be done with it.

But who could have expected the owner of the realm—Feng Tianlin—had this cheat skill of cloning himself?

That wasn’t all; he also had a devastating ultimate move, summoning immortals directly with the Immortal Painting. Who could withstand that?

Though it risked altering the world, to break the prophecy that he would be killed by the realm’s owner, he had no choice but to try.

Then, an even stronger bizarre creature appeared, instantly reducing the Eight Immortals to coal and whisking them away somewhere unknown.

Now, their only chance to survive was to escape while the bizarre creatures were distracted.

Fan Tianxing ran ahead, with the other four trailing behind.

It wasn’t that those four couldn’t outrun Fan Tianxing, but he wanted them to cover his retreat.

He possessed the Book of Divine Words—he could control humans, effectively like Feng Tianlin among humans. Though the other four were troubled, they had no choice but to obey.

Suddenly, Fan Tianxing was blocked. Feng Tianlin stood before him, smiling.

“Fan Tianxing, in such a hurry, where are you off to?”

Fan Tianxing skidded to a stop. Remembering the torment of the soul interrogation, he began shivering uncontrollably—he would rather die than endure that again.

“I… I’m going to the bathroom…” he stammered.

He quickly turned back and ordered the other four, “Hold him off for me!”

No sooner had he spoken than the four stepped before Feng Tianlin, though their faces betrayed their fear.

A person who fears combat is no real threat. Feng Tianlin merely summoned four clones to handle them, then teleported instantly in front of Fan Tianxing.

“Bathroom? I can help you. Big or small?” His voice carried the eerie tone of a creepy uncle, making the hairs on one’s neck stand on end.

Fan Tianxing plopped to the ground. “No, no, no, don’t use that on me.”

“Hey, a real man shouldn’t fear pain,” Feng Tianlin grinned mischievously, pressing down on Fan Tianxing’s head.

“Soul interrogation!”

Fan Tianxing lay flat on the ground, eyes wildly rolling, shaking his head and body uncontrollably, twisting into all kinds of shapes, foam spilling from his mouth.

Feng Tianlin’s smile grew ever more brazen as he laughed heartily and tightened his grip.

At that moment, a burst of energy exploded in the sky—more spectacular than when Ruan Miao destroyed the core of the bizarre realm, more dazzling even than the Immortal Painting’s self-immolation.

The energy seemed both tangible and intangible. At its eruption, the entire sky appeared to ripple violently.

Black clouds parted instantly, spreading aside, and the energy radiated outward in waves. Just watching from the ground, Feng Tianlin was blown several meters back before regaining his stance.

But it was not over. Countless blood-red petals materialized, spreading across the sky at a terrifying speed.

Yet the dazzling display was brief, lasting only seconds before the petals dissolved into blood-red energy suffusing the space.

The red energy sank into the clouds above, dyeing the entire sky a deep crimson.

As the petals vanished, Feng Tianlin’s future self appeared in everyone’s sight. Below him, eight glowing points rapidly descended—it was the Eight Immortals.

Future Feng Tianlin smiled easily, appearing completely at ease. It was clear he had utterly dominated this battle.

The Eight Immortals landed not far from Fan Tianxing and Feng Tianlin.

From Feng Tianlin’s perspective, those immortal beings, who looked down on everything, were now trembling, faces twisted by sheer terror, almost in tears.

Fan Tianxing witnessed it all and knew he was done for. Even the legendary Eight Immortals were no match for this bizarre creature—how could he stand a chance?

His resurrection ability relied on an immortal artifact, but now that even immortals couldn’t win, what use did an artifact have?

His eyes darkened as he resigned himself, ready to lie down and await death.

Facing death always stirs deep thoughts, and Fan Tianxing pondered his own character.

Young and hotheaded, he had borne responsibilities too heavy for his age, driving him to madness. He tolerated no dissent and wielded extreme cruelty.

“I... I...” He tried to speak but couldn’t find the words. Finally, he closed his eyes in acceptance.

Meanwhile, Feng Tianlin strode up to the Eight Immortals, furious at those who had so casually killed his men.

“You all were so tough just now? Come on, show me again!”

With that, he slapped Lü Dongbin, who glared at him with rage. His future self also approached.

“Too bad I can’t kill anyone this time, or I’d have wiped out these eight already. It’s like stepping on an ant—no trouble at all.”