Red Shirt turned his head, only to see a monk and a nun walking in from the side door. He looked behind them, but he didn't see any of his subordinates. A confused look flashed across his eyes as he tipped his head slightly. "Bring them here!"
"Yes!" A subordinate walked over and coldly harrumphed. "You two, go over there!"
Wanderer Tranquil looked at Fangzheng and just as Fangzheng was about to say something, he caught the pungent scent of blood. Looking at the stage, there were corpses! His eyes instantly reddened. This was made even worse when he saw the monks, Daoists, and priests on the ground—they were on their last breaths. Without needing that person to say a word, Fangzheng took huge strides over.
"Didn't you say that he has divine powers? That he's a living Buddha? Now's the time for him to use it," a political figure with a protruded chin whispered to a Daoist.
When the Daoist heard that, he glared at him before ignoring him.
