Qingshan Psychiatric Hospital.
“Jiahao, are you saying your psychiatric hospital has been surrounded by cultivators?”
“That's right!”
“Look over there!”
Jiahao points to Wang Ye, who is swaying and bobbing his head in a tree.
“Command the innate, encompass the cosmic cycle; master its changes, and become the king!”
“Are you sure that old man is a cultivator?”
“Of course! That's the founder of Wushan Sect, Daoist Wang Ye! A Deity Transformation expert!”
“Look over there.”
Jiahao points again, this time to Cheng Qingfeng, who's arguing with a little bird.
“Kill! Kill! Kill!”
“What I hate most is apologizing afterward!”
“Are you sure that man shouldn't be taking his medicine?”
“That's Cheng Qingfeng, the First Elder of the Overlord Sect in Lijuzhudongtian, a cultivator at the Great Perfection of Nascent Soul!”
“Then... could that person be a powerful cultivator too?”
The reporter points to Huo Lei, who's banging his head against a wall.
“Eighty!”
“Eighty!”
“It's all mine!”
“It's all mine!”
“That's right! He's Huo Lei, the Sect Master of the Azure Thunder Sect, a half-step Deity Transformation cultivator!”
“And you are?”
The reporter looks at Jiahao's half-smile and asks nervously.
“Me?”
Jiahao lets out a cold laugh.
Then he strikes a pose like he's scratching records in midair.
“Me!”
A black mask appears over his mouth, and his patient uniform suddenly turns into a black trench coat.
Jiahao springs into the air in front of the reporter, appearing on the roof of the building behind him.
The beautiful reporter looks up, eyes wide with shock.
Then Jiahao flips and leaps, falling freely.
He plummets, lands perfectly, and kicks up clouds of dust.
Through the haze, Jiahao smirks, looks up, and grins wickedly.
“I am the Primordial Holy Demon Sect...”
“...Haodi!”
