Currently it's [29], with four hours to go.
I also have ginseng to thank, otherwise, I'd have to wait a day and two nights.
'Why are there so many crises...'
Meanwhile, Zhang Feng didn't linger in the kitchen; instead, he went to a corner of the courtyard.
If those two really plan to rob, I'll think of a way to escape.
According to Zhang Feng's calculations and observation of good and evil, those two are also notorious thieves.
"Ha!" The thief is still oblivious, practicing alone in the courtyard.
This is quite fine.
However, Zhang Feng felt quite speechless at how much resentment he had to endure.
He even thought about the steady growth of the eighth-level world, where crises were everywhere.
If it were a normal eighth-level, or even a ++ world, wouldn't three groups of people beat me up every morning, noon, and night, preventing me from having an uninterrupted meal?
Zhang Feng felt that with the randomness of words, although not absolute, it's indeed quite uncertain.
