94: Who struck first?

"Which dynasty does this sacrifice belong to? Judging by the clothing and accessories, it looks a bit like the Han Dynasty."

Wang Jiu rubbed his head, frowning as he muttered to himself.

The group continued forward, walking about a hundred meters before finally leaving the tomb passage.

Before their eyes appeared an extremely vast sacrificial hall, approximately ten zhang high.

Wang Jiu's eyes lit up.

"This shouldn't be a tomb; it's a temple specifically used for sacrifices!"

Old Xiao's eyes were completely drawn to the sacrificial vessels surrounding them.

Bronze tripods, bone artifacts, various unknown pottery jars, and even an intact bronze war chariot, whose clay figures were lifelike, resembling real people.

These artifacts were arranged in a pattern resembling a formation, connecting to the altar in the very center of the hall.

"Old Xiao, do you feel like your breathing has become much easier?"

Old Xiao was nudged twice and suddenly seemed to snap out of it.

"Damn it, this is uncanny. We're wearing oxygen masks, so how can we feel this way?"

"Yeah, it's so strange. I feel like my body has gotten lighter, and it's so comfortable!"

... The moment He Ming stepped into the sacrificial hall, he sensed something unusual.

In his line of sight, the entire hall was filled with an extremely pure and incomparably vast energy.

Under the influence of this energy, the cells throughout his body seemed to open their mouths, greedily absorbing it.

This was the primal energy that could accelerate cultivation.

Was this the materialized form of Human Dao Fortune?

He Ming slowly walked toward the altar. The closer he got to the center of the altar, the more massive this energy became.

Upon getting closer, his gaze fell upon the bottomless pit in the very center of the altar, the desire in his eyes seemingly about to materialize.

Old Xiao's eyebrows shot up. Seeing that He Ming completely disregarded the sacrificial vessels and walked straight toward the altar, his heart rate quickened.

In his view, any of the sacrificial vessels visible everywhere in this hall, if successfully taken out, would be enough to allow an ordinary person to achieve a class leap.

He Ming's attitude itself was very suspicious. Even if he were incredibly rich, it shouldn't be like this, right?

This kid definitely knows something!

My luck, Old Xiao's luck, has finally turned around!

"Brothers, what are you waiting for?"

"Load up!"

Prompted by Old Xiao, the people in the entire team rushed toward their respective targets like beasts unleashed.

"Hahahaha, I finally know what it feels like to pick up money by the sackful!"

"There's so much, too much! We can't possibly pack it all!"

"We're rich! We're truly rich this time!"

... Old Xiao signaled behind him. In the team, a man wearing an eye patch and a burly, dark-skinned middle-aged man gathered toward him.

"Let's go take a look."

Wang Jiu, who was busy stuffing things into a sack, was startled by this scene. He finally understood the source of the uneasiness he felt!

It was Old Xiao.

He was planning a double-cross!

"Boss He, we have completed this trip for you. It's time for you to fulfill your promise."

He Ming turned sideways, looking at the three people surrounding him, a strange curve appearing at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, what do you want."

"Settle the final payment."

Just then, Wang Jiu jogged over.

"Old Xiao, are you crazy!"

"Boss He promised me that he would pay the final balance once the job was done!"

As he spoke, Wang Jiu arrived at the center of the altar, shielding He Ming behind him, and looked warily at Old Xiao and the two men approaching.

Before long, the two men Wang Jiu had brought with him put down their items, pulled out the weapons hidden on their bodies, and quickly ran toward the altar.

"Boss!"

The scene instantly devolved into a three-on-four standoff.

Old Xiao let out a cold, disdainful snort.

"Final payment?"

"Wang the Bald, aren't you even slightly curious why this kid paid such an exorbitant price to hire us to come down here?"

He glanced around and continued.

"It certainly wasn't for these worthless trinkets."

Wang Jiu clenched his fists, his face flushing red.

"For people in our line of work, reputation is the foundation of our existence! Have you forgotten the lessons Master taught us!"

"Reputation? Lessons?"

Old Xiao shook his head and sneered.

"Once I finish this job, I'm washing my hands of this life and going abroad to enjoy myself. How much is a reputation worth?"

"Wang the Bald, I'm sparing you because we were once fellow disciples. Get out of my way right now. If you dare hinder me again, I'll take care of you too!"

He Ming took two steps forward, looking calmly up at Old Xiao.

"I've never killed anyone, but I'm afraid I'll have to experience that feeling today."

Hearing this, Old Xiao couldn't help but burst into laughter, as if he had heard a great joke.

Seeing He Ming continue to advance, he suddenly pulled a pistol from his pocket.

"Boss He, do you recognize this thing?"

He Ming stopped, nodding slightly.

"I do."

Old Xiao tapped the gun against his own head and looked toward Wang the Bald.

"Wang the Bald, I'm warning you one last time: stay out of this."

Beside Wang the Bald, two friends who were close to him quietly advised him.

"Boss, maybe we should just forget it."

"That's right, a wise man doesn't suffer immediate losses."

Wang Jiu shook his head slightly and spoke softly.

"I don't blame you, but some things, once done, you will regret for the rest of your life."

The two men sighed and quickly moved away from the altar.

He Ming looked at Wang Jiu beside him and slowly asked, "Aren't you leaving?"

Wang Jiu's face turned from red to pale: "Boss He, you don't understand the rules of our lineage."

"Once the vows are broken, it will bring disaster upon our descendants."

"I can die, but my family cannot be implicated because of me."

"Not bad."

Old Xiao held the gun, about to aim it at He Ming... "I hate having people point guns at me."

The instant the words fell!

A line of blood suddenly appeared on Old Xiao's gun-holding wrist, which dropped to the ground without warning, the cut being perfectly clean!

He himself hadn't quite reacted, and he even raised his remaining arm to look at his wrist.

When he saw his severed hand, his mind short-circuited in that moment.

Why?

Where did my hand go?

For a moment, the scene plunged into absolute silence.

Old Xiao and his group, who had originally thought victory was assured, were all dumbfounded.

Who exactly made the move?

Could it be that the mysterious power of the Ailao Mountains had acted!?

The rest of the group, who were busy clearing out the goods, also stopped moving and simultaneously looked toward the altar.

After about three seconds, Old Xiao’s brain finally registered the injury.

Pain.

Too painful.

His entire face wrinkled up like dried orange peel, cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and his body went limp, collapsing onto the ground.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah..."

The pig-slaughtering wails instantly ratcheted the tension inside the hall to the extreme.

The man with the eye patch reacted, rushing toward the pistol on the ground, but before his hand could even touch the gun held in the severed hand's grasp, his own hand was instantly sliced off by an invisible and bizarre force!

He was definitely a ruthless man; without making a sound, if his right hand was gone, he would use his left hand to grab the gun.

The silent strike descended once more!

This time, the eye patch man's head was completely relocated.