"Why must you force my hand?"
Lü Zhong felt rather exasperated.
'It feels like no time at all has passed, and yet another person has come to offer me a Storage Bag.'
When he reached a deserted, remote spot, he suddenly stopped in his tracks.
His pursuer was stunned for a moment before a vicious smile spread across his face. He rushed forward. "Hehe, I suggest you don't resist. Otherwise, I'll make you wish you were dead!"
'Wish I were dead? What big talk!'
Lü Zhong grumbled to himself, feeling a bit frustrated.
The situation in the Western Realm was just like those novels he'd read before, where the protagonist killed his way from place to place. He'd only been here a month, but he'd already acquired more Storage Bags than in the past several decades combined.
The profits from these Storage Bags were about to surpass the profits from the Spiritual Objects he sold.
'Sigh... Why must they force my hand?'
