Chapter 125: A Sudden Turn of Events

“Enough with your incessant babbling! Are you ever going to stop?”

An ill-timed voice suddenly rang out, startling everyone present. The atmosphere that Manro had so carefully cultivated was shattered in an instant by that shrill outburst, instantly branding the entire scene as contrived and insincere.

The room fell into an awkward silence, everyone grappling with the shock of those words.

“So it was you, huh? Tired of living too long?” Manro narrowed his eyes, fixing Marcus with a dangerous glare. His words dripped with deadly intent, as if he longed to subject Marcus to every torment known to man.

“Sigh, what can I say? Sometimes being good means you live longer. Not like some folks—pretending to be pure while running a whorehouse. Their fate’s never going to be long.” Marcus abandoned his sage-like demeanor, a mocking grin spreading across his face. Raising an eyebrow, he twisted his mouth with every sentence laced in sarcasm, like an old rogue who had seen too much and mastered the art of verbal sparring.

“Oh, come on! Ptooey, ptooey! I really am getting old. Look at this mouth—so foul! I didn’t mean it like that. How could I be so careless? Whores are far cleaner than you, you know. Saying that makes it sound like I insulted them! Namo Amitabha, my sins are great…”

Marcus’s sudden, inexplicable interjection left Manro choking on his own words, as if all his previous venting had been nothing but whining, while Marcus himself was exposed as a shameless little scoundrel nailed to the pillar of shame.

Manro closed his eyes and pressed his temples, a headache creeping in as he pondered how to deal with Marcus. After a moment’s silence, he stepped forward abruptly and slapped Marcus’s face with a force that seemed intent on slaying him with one blow.

Marcus, however, appeared oblivious to the incoming strike. He suddenly began coughing violently, his voice hoarse and ragged, his back bent like a lobster’s, looking as if his days were numbered.

After a brief moment, Manro drew back his hand, eyeing Marcus warily as he reassessed the seemingly feeble old man before him.

Luo Hanya and Shi Can were equally stunned, their expressions full of surprise as they watched Marcus stop coughing.

It became clear that Marcus’s violent cough and bent back had perfectly timed to dodge Manro’s lethal slap.

Manro approached Marcus, leaning close to whisper into his ear, “Old fox, are you trying to stir up trouble?”

Marcus paid no heed, deliberately tilting his ear and shouting in a hoarse voice, “What? What did you say? Stir up trouble with you? Sorry, old man, I only have eyes for busty beauties. You can go cool off somewhere else and stop bothering me!”

“You better think carefully. At this point, deliberately provoking me won’t do you any favors.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow at Manro, and the look in his eyes shifted subtly but he remained unyielding. “What’s meant to happen will happen. Since I can’t avoid it, I might as well face it head-on.”

“Have you given up on yourself? Why are you willing to become a spirit? All for someone like that?” Manro pointed angrily at the nearby Luo Hanya, questioning Marcus.

“He’s no ordinary person. You’re far too confident,” Marcus replied.

“Is there anything left that can stop me now?”

“There are many things, and he’s one of them. Look, he’s coming.”

Watching the tense standoff between Marcus and Manro, Manro felt an inexplicable discomfort. For an old man who could easily be his grandfather to face off against such a dubious character—it was hard to imagine anyone else remaining calm and watching quietly from the sidelines.

“Damn it! So what if he’s strong? Big deal if I die! Losing my head is just a scar the size of a bowl. When I quit this game, I’ll still be a hero!” Luo Hanya muttered under his breath and took a firm step forward.

That simple step held extraordinary significance for Luo Hanya. With it, his entire aura transformed dramatically. What had been unclear moments ago now appeared crystal clear to him.

“So... that’s how it is,” Luo Hanya raised an eyebrow and smiled at Manro. Though not entirely fearless, much of his former dread had vanished.

“Haha, Luo Hanya, you finally understand something,” Marcus laughed heartily. A golden aura shimmered around him, a strong sacred energy rising. His withered face seemed to glow with a pale gold light, his eyes blazing with golden flames that sparkled brilliantly. His presence multiplied exponentially, enveloped in a golden flower-like radiance—majestic and divine.

Manro’s eyes grew serious, but he quickly relaxed, seeming indifferent to the changes unfolding in the two men before him.

He took a step forward as well. Manro’s advance intensified the already taut atmosphere, as if a great battle was about to erupt at any moment.

“Heh, you don’t really think this is just a game, do you?” Manro glanced at the trio standing in the formation of the Three Powers and teased Luo Hanya.

Luo Hanya trembled slightly, staring at Manro in disbelief, feeling as if the world itself was shaking.

“How dare you!” Marcus stepped forward, seemingly trying to stop Manro.

“You…what did you say?” Luo Hanya blocked Marcus’s attempt and gestured for Manro to continue.

“Heh, didn’t you already guess? I just want to tell you this time it’s different. If you die... you really die, Spirit Strategist!” Manro said arrogantly, lifting his chin as he addressed Luo Hanya.

Luo Hanya lowered his head in silence for a moment, then raised it again, his eyes now filled with ruthless resolve.

“Hmm? What do you mean by that?” Manro was taken aback by Luo Hanya’s gaze, his momentum faltering.

For a moment, Manro froze, his face flushing red—almost purple—with anger and shame as he shouted at Luo Hanya, “Hey! Think carefully! You’re courting death!”

“I’ve thought it through! Isn’t that just nurturing a poison? Either become the strongest or die trying!”