It was just another ordinary day at the Cosmic Graveyard Fortress. A few martial artists had just returned from the Cosmic Graveyard. Normally, those returning were either injured or extremely disheveled, but there wasn't a trace of battle on them.
"Yicima, it seems like your mission was quite successful this time. How'd it go? Did you have any gains?" The captain of another team approached, indicating they had known each other for a long time.
"Gains, my ass! We didn't even see a hair of a high-level undead!" The martial artist named Yicima didn't have a pleasant expression.
"Isn't that a good thing?" the martial artist in black armor asked, perplexed.
"Good thing? In the past, sure. You might not believe it, but Okaider's treasury has been completely emptied!" As he spoke, the scar on Yicima's face twitched grotesquely.
