Chapter: 1740

Zhao Feichen resumed his frivolous and lazy attitude of the second generation ancestor, and said with a smile:

"You go to the ring with my bodyguard and fight. If you win, I'll give you the flint and don't take any money. If you lose, tell my aunt to give me the stove.

"You understand the rules of the arena, you can only live one. If you agree, sign the life and death certificate now."

Zhang Yuanqing stared at him for a few seconds, then shook his head: "It's not fair!"

"Scared?"

"I won, not only the flint, but also your two legs."

Zhao Feichen laughed loudly: "Have character!"

Turning his head, his face was gloomy, and he said to the middle-aged man holding the sword with a murderous look on his face:

"After signing the certificate of life and death, even if he is an official deacon, I want him to die! After the matter is completed, you can choose one of the props in the treasure house of the Zhao family, and I will reward you with 10 million cash."

He must get the things in the Bailian furnace.


The best props in the Saint Realm are rare even in large organizations.

Even though grandpa loves him, it is impossible to give such a good prop, don't even think about it.

The middle-aged man nodded slightly:

"no problem!"

Zhao Feichen ran to the rocking chair with a flattering expression on his face:

"Auntie, are you satisfied with what my nephew is doing?"

Lian Sanyue swayed with the rocking chair, half-closed her beautiful eyes, and said with a smile:

"The Zhao family's affairs have nothing to do with me, and your affairs have no right to bother me. But since he signed the life and death certificate, he is the official deacon. If you kill him, the Five Elements Alliance can't say anything, and vice versa.

"One last question, are you sure?"

Zhao Feichen whispered:

"The one made in that furnace is a top-grade tool. Even you, the success rate is less than 30%. I'm going to decide on this thing. Even if he is an official deacon, I don't know about it."

"You can just think about it!" Lian Sanyue smiled, got up lazily, stood in the crowd, and said loudly:

"I will draw up a contract in the name of witnesses and guarantors. Those who violate the contract will be dealt with by myself."

After the two sides nodded, she grabbed an ancient yellowed sheepskin roll from the inventory, shook it away, and said:

"Contract 1: Don't use skills and props above level 6, including level 6."

"Contract 2: You can't admit defeat, the rules of the ring, life and death must be divided."

"Contract 3: Don't ask for help from unrelated people outside the stadium."

Every time she said a word, a rule appeared on the parchment. The handwriting was distorted like tadpoles, and it was impossible to tell which country's language it was.

After briefly talking about the contents of the three contracts, she looked at Zhang Yuanqing and the middle-aged swordsman, "Come here and make a pledge, just press a fingerprint."

The middle-aged swordsman strode forward, pressed his thumb under the contract, looked back, and looked at Zhang Yuanqing coldly. JrNovels.com