The sky rails collapsed and the end came.
But my golden finger is a bit strange: a cauldron, three sticks of incense, and sacrifices. I can worship one of the ghosts and monsters within a hundred miles around as my teacher, and use their magical powers for my own use.
The first master I worshiped was a hot-tempered yellow man who spoke foul language.
It taught me to use the art of hating victory to dominate the apocalypse. Since then, my left eye has seen the beauty of autumn hair, and my right palm has burned evil spirits. While others are running for their lives in panic, I am strolling around, slaying demons and demons.
Just when I thought the doomsday was just like this, I discovered that the danger on the surface was just the tip of the iceberg in the doomsday, and the behemoth under the water was slowly surfacing.
Forget it, everyone, do you realize that we are tired of victory?
In the past, you called me Huang Xian's subordinate, and I didn't find fault with you. But now, what should you call me?
Reader comments
It's okay, but there aren't many people
Why does no one write so well [crying] Author, can you update it🥺
It's okay, but there aren't many people
Why does no one write so well [crying] Author, can you update it🥺