Yi Lin handed the rusty axe back to the Old Ghost Hunter.
Clang.
The Old Ghost Hunter didn't react in time, his hand shook, and he failed to grasp it securely, so it fell by his feet again.
The axe even bounced once on the ground.
Fortunately, it didn't hit his foot.
Poor old man, having grasped an exquisite technique for nearly ten years, to have someone learn it within minutes—calculating the psychological shadow it cast wouldn't be easy.
At this moment, the Old Ghost Hunter stood still like a weathered stone sculpture.
Yi Lin patted the Old Ghost Hunter's shoulder, consoling him, "I told you, the techniques of Ghost Hunters are advancing rapidly these days!"
"Could it be that I'm really old?"
The Old Ghost Hunter finally came back to his senses, his expression fluctuating.
Yi Lin admitted that the intricacies of the Breathing Method normally couldn't be learned overnight.
