"Pathfinder sir, those two receptionists seem to have quite an opinion about you," Feng Yue said, following behind Li Zhen. "When they stared at me, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Their strength is greater than most Outer City residents!"
"Hairs?"
Li Zheng turned around, casting a strange look at Feng Yue. "You only have a turtle shell on your back, where would you have hairs?"
"Inside... That's not important." Feng Yue, not wanting to explain something so trivial, said worriedly, "Pathfinder sir, there may be things no one has told you. Actually, some races in the Outer City naturally have extremely powerful combat abilities. When they elevate their Spiritual Power to the Purple Level and can advance no further, they find a place to retire. I suspect those two receptionists are such beings."
"Purple Level Spiritual Power?"
