What kind of situation will we face.
It is as terrifying as the Sword of the Sword Madman, like the military god's army.
Old Mr. Siming stood there, holding the Mystic Turtle in front of him, feeling that his white hair was rising towards the sky, with many limp strands. Old Mr. Siming reached out and pinched his own hair, and a small electric arc exploded between his fingers and hair.
Crack.
A little numb.
But, alas, interesting.
Old Mr. Siming played with this electric arc, enjoying it immensely.
Finally feeling even his physique becoming a bit tingly, he didn't pursue trouble further, just grinned slightly, and together with the old Mystic Turtle, stared wide-eyed at the sky, watching the vast Great Formation covering the entire big city, murmuring:
"The fishing guy is playing for real."
"No, why bother with this... "
