Tang San's up to something shady again?

His Spiritual Detection launched first, instantly locking onto his target.

He strode toward Meng Yiran, who was enjoying grilled fish, and declared from above:

"It's the start of the month. I challenge you!"

Meng Yiran: "???"

Are you serious right now?

Sure, a lot had happened today, but they had only just returned to school yesterday—and their last match was the day before that.

Not to mention, Meng Yiran had consumed an immortal herb since then, pushing her level past 40.

Where was Tang San getting the confidence to think he could beat her?

"Your external soul bone is what, 2000 years old at best?" Meng Yiran said, utterly unimpressed. "And you think you can beat me? I'm already at level 40."

Tang San's expression twitched.

Level 40 already?

He didn't see her absorb the herb this afternoon—when did she hit 40?

But then he remembered his tactics, and regained his confidence.

No big deal.

He said smugly, "Your master granted me the right to challenge you once a month. What, are you going to defy that?"

Meng Yiran's gaze instantly turned cold.

Meng Shu and Chao Tianxiang were also eyeing Tang San darkly.

If this brat didn't have a Title Douluo for a father, the couple would've already teamed up and pummeled him.

His mouth was just too foul.

"Fine!" Meng Yiran dropped her grilled fish. "If you're so desperate to be humiliated, I don't mind at all!"

Ning Fengzhi clearly understood what was going on.

He clapped his hands.

The singing and dancing girls gracefully exited, leaving Ma Hongjun and the others fuming.

They had just started enjoying themselves—what the hell was this little runt's problem?

Couldn't he have waited a bit?

Tang San ignored the dagger-like glares and swaggered into the arena. He crooked a finger at Meng Yiran.

"Hurry up. I can't wait to take back my Eight Spider Lances."

Meng Yiran only sneered.

She summoned her external soul bone—Eight Spider Lances. The cloth draped over her back tore apart as eight three-meter-long spider legs unfurled.

They lifted her off the ground, letting her hover midair, staring down at Tang San.

"You should focus on figuring out how you'll deal with the loser's punishment."

Both of them radiated confidence, ready to strike.

"Hold up!"

Tang San, riding high on momentum, turned toward the voice, annoyed.

Who the hell was ruining the moment?

His pupils shrank.

Oh—it was Diyi Hong. Never mind, then.

But Diyi Hong didn't say anything further, lost in thought.

In reality, his attention was fixed on the livestream room.

[User "Angel God" has entered the livestream!]

A new viewer had arrived!

There had only ever been two Angel Gods. Who was this?

Diyi Hong clicked on the viewer list and saw the profile pic.

He grinned.

Another one of Tang San's mortal enemies.

[Angel God: At the Battle of Jialing Pass, I was ambushed, my divine core shattered. I fled into the mountains with the stripped corpse of the Rakshasa God, unable to show my face!]

Wait, what?

The Angel God's divine core shattered?

So she's basically broke now.

[Angel God: Livestream room? Rakshasa God? Tang San! Are you mocking me?!]

[Rakshasa God: "…"]

[Rakshasa God: Sigh… there's a playback in the stream. Watch it and you'll understand.]

The Angel God went silent.

She wasn't a god anymore. Her soul power was completely gone.

It'd take her a while to watch the replay.

[Phoenix God: By "stripped," do you mean what I think you mean?]

[Nine-Colored Goddess: You pervert. Always thinking of inappropriate things! Even in death, divine artifacts, divine cores, and inheritance rights are all priceless to a new god like Tang San.]

[God of Speed: I'm more curious about this ambush. What happened exactly?]

[Rakshasa God: Let her finish watching first.]

It was a complicated story.

Only a few seconds had passed in real time.

Everyone was now watching Diyi Hong, waiting for him to speak.

He blinked, then snapped his fingers.

The ground bulged as a stone ballot box emerged.

He smiled.

"Just fighting like this is boring."

"I'll host a wager. Everyone, make your bets—who'll win, and how long will the fight last?"

"Whoever gets the closest prediction wins a mystery prize~"

"The rest… will have to join Tang San in receiving my mystery punishment."

"Anyone who wants to play, write your guess down and drop it in the box."

Mystery prize?

Mystery punishment?

Everyone looked at each other in hesitation.

Diyi Hong's generosity was well known.

But his twisted tricks? Also legendary.

Should they join?

Diyi Hong didn't pressure anyone.

He looked at the stream instead.

[Phoenix God: I'm hosting the odds this time! Bet on Tang San: 3 to 1. Bet on Meng Yiran: even odds!]

Perfect!

A god hosting the odds meant Diyi Hong profited no matter what.

Jackpot.

[Nine-Colored Goddess: I admire your courage. But did you notice the timer condition added by the host? I'm betting 50 wisps of divine sense on Meng Yiran!]

[Phoenix God: Heh, Tang San's not totally helpless. Wouldn't have shown up unless he had something up his sleeve.]

[God of Speed: I'm betting 10 wisps of divine sense on Meng Yiran! When's this stream going to let us bet directly with divine sense?]

[Rakshasa God: Let's not. Thoughts can get messy. At least words can be edited.]

[Rakshasa God: Since you're all betting on Meng Yiran, I'll throw in 1 wisp on Tang San.]

[God of Emotion: What's wrong with you? I'm putting 10 wisps on Meng Yiran!]

[Rakshasa God: Don't misunderstand, God of Emotion. I've got bad luck today, so I'm betting opposite on purpose. Only 1 wisp, see?]

[Phoenix God: Careful there, friendly fire. Anyone else betting?]

The chat quieted down.

Diyi Hong eagerly watched for a bet from God King of Destruction 002.

But… no movement.

Had that big spender finally learned to quit after getting robbed twice?

That wouldn't do!

Or maybe this little skirmish wasn't enough to interest him.

Back in reality—

Li Yusong was the first to rise, announcing with enthusiasm:

"Count me in!"

"If I win, I gain big."

"If I lose, I just get punished a little."

"Take a chance—maybe I'll get a ten-thousand-year soul ring!"

With this "model of success" leading the way, everyone's greed was stirred.

They scribbled down their predictions and dropped them into the box.

Then cast encouraging looks toward Meng Yiran.

As for Tang San?

Only a brain-dead fool would bet on him.

Tang San's face turned dark.

He clenched his fists.

He had to win this match—and slap everyone in the face!

At that moment, Yu Xiaogang stepped forward, placed his slip into the box, and gave Tang San a supportive nod.

Tang San's expression eased slightly.

This trash teacher of his may be pretentious, but at least he was loyal.

Only Diyi Hong looked amused.

His Spiritual Detection had clearly seen what Yu Xiaogang wrote.

It was Meng Yiran's name.

Of course.

Both master and disciple were masters of "surface appearances."

Finally…

The only one who might've supported Tang San—Xiao Wu—chose to abstain.

Diyi Hong checked the stream again.

God King of Destruction 002 still hadn't moved.

Tch.

The fattest cash cow wasn't biting.

He'd need a new tactic.

"Perfect!"

Diyi Hong pulled out a soul tool timer and announced—

"Timer starts now!"

______________________

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