The distance was too close, and the oppressive force, like a sinister wind, came rushing towards him.
Fortunately, he had undergone the baptism of the Supreme Level, allowing him to remain calm in the face of danger.
Without a doubt, this was Jiang Chunyang.
A pioneer of the Human World four hundred years ago, and now the true ruler of the Dark World.
Jiang Chunyang continued to wield his paintbrush on the canvas, as if the paint was his fury, wantonly venting.
From start to finish, he never averted his gaze, seemingly immersed in the world of the painting.
Suddenly, he lifted his withered right hand, reaching for the golden mask on the young man's face.
"If you take off my mask, you will die."
Gu Jianlin said coldly, "Whose life is worth more, yours or mine?"
Jiang Chunyang's extended right hand halted at his forehead, gently tapping the mask with his index finger, rasping, "Quite a character you are, knowing what to use to bargain with me."
