Mo Kongkong cursed inwardly, his figure turned, attempting to quietly slip past the middle-aged scholar.
Just as he was about to pass by the scholar, a myriad of illusions appeared before his eyes, dazzling him with flashing lights.
When he came to his senses, he was already firmly grabbed by the shoulder by the middle-aged scholar.
"You murderer, where did you come from, Soul Cultivator?" Mo Kongkong cursed angrily, his face full of resentment and fury.
The middle-aged scholar seemed to ignore his curses, lowered his head to examine Mo Kongkong, his eyes showing curiosity: "So you are the so-called Mo Kongkong, who claims his Divine Movement leaves no trace? A dignified Dharma manifestation strongman resorting to stealing treasures. What did you steal from the Golden Sword Sect this time?"
