The moment Bibi Dong uttered those words, Ning Fengzhi—who had been sipping tea while enjoying the spectacle—almost had his eyeballs shoot out of his skull.
What… what did she just say?
Yu Xiaogang publicly assassinated the Supreme Pontiff of the Spirit Hall?
Yu Xiaogang?
Ning Fengzhi's gaze drifted toward the man lying on the floor, twitching like an electrocuted stray dog, face swollen into an unrecognizable pig head.
With that condition, forget assassinating the Supreme Pontiff—
He probably couldn't even strangle a chicken!
Bibi Dong, you nearly kicked him into the afterlife, and now you claim he tried to assassinate you?
We're all watching you—do you think we're blind?!
And even more outrageous—
Using this ridiculous excuse to demand "compensation" from the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect?!
Bibi Dong, why are you even more shameless than me?!
Ning Fengzhi gulped down a large mouthful of tea to steady his collapsing worldview.
As he drank, his gaze drifted to Ghost Leopard Douluo.
Surely he wouldn't go along with this.
Ghost Leopard Douluo was a Titled Douluo, an Elder of the Spirit Hall—some basic intelligence should still be alive in his brain.
This order was clearly nonsense.
Surely, he'd just nod perfunctorily and do nothing.
However—
The moment Ning Fengzhi looked his way…
He saw something unforgettable for a lifetime.
Ghost Leopard Douluo, who earlier wasn't even very enthusiastic about exposing Yu Xiaogang's true face…
When he heard the word "compensation."
His eyes suddenly lit up like lanterns.
Compensation?
Compensation???
The old veteran immediately became spirited!
In his mind, the abacus beads were practically flying at supersonic speed.
Because—who didn't know the Spirit Hall's current tragic financial state?
To put it politely: "rich heritage."
To put it honestly:
Poor.
Destitute.
Bankrupt.
The Supreme Pontiff had emptied the entire thousands-year-old treasury to buy a monthly subscription meal plan from the senior chef upstairs!
And although young mistress Qian Renxue recently "relocated funds" (also known as robbing the Heaven Dou treasury) and brought back a fortune…
She didn't hand it to the Spirit Hall.
That money?
Her private stash.
And had nothing to do with these Elders who were now living like stray dogs.
The treasury was still empty.
Which directly resulted in:
These Titled Douluo had not been paid for months!
Before, they didn't care about money—they only cultivated.
But after Feng Ran Pavilion appeared?
Every meal cost enough to make a noble weep.
Rich or not—it didn't matter.
Food is life. They had to eat.
And eating required money.
Now, Bibi Dong personally handed them a legitimate, righteous, perfectly packaged opportunity to "generate revenue" from the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect?
Demanding compensation?
This wasn't compensation—this was salvation!
"This subordinate obeys! I guarantee to complete the mission!!"
Ghost Leopard Douluo jumped up on the spot, his voice vigorous, full of loyalty, passion, and most importantly—
hunger.
"PFFT—!!"
Ning Fengzhi, who had just taken a sip of tea, spat it out in a fountain, coughing until his lungs nearly turned inside out.
WHAT?!
You're actually going to carry it out?!
That wasn't just "taking money"—that was stomping on the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect's face in broad daylight!
"Wait! Cough— cough! Stop!"
Ning Fengzhi staggered up, one hand supporting himself on the table, frantically stopping Ghost Leopard Douluo, who was already preparing to head out the door.
He didn't even bother wiping the tea running down his chin.
He turned to Bibi Dong, his tone full of anxiety.
"Supreme Pontiff, isn't this… a little too rash?"
He chose his words carefully, as if they might explode.
"If you insist on doing this, I'm afraid… I'm afraid it will completely enrage Yu Yuanzhen.
If the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect falls out with the Spirit Hall, the consequences—"
He spoke sincerely, rationally, from the perspective of an ally.
However—
Before Bibi Dong even responded…
A grunt sounded from the table beside him.
Devil Bear Douluo lazily lifted his head while picking his teeth with a pinky finger.
He stared blankly at Ning Fengzhi and asked a question that would go down in history as one of the greatest philosophical inquiries ever uttered by a muscle-brained Titled Douluo:
"So what?"
These two little words slammed into Ning Fengzhi's skull like an iron hammer.
He froze.
For a moment, he almost grabbed Devil Bear Douluo by the collar and yelled:
"So what? YOU ASK ME, SO WHAT?!"
The entire continent was a powder keg.
What if this small spark ignited a war between the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect and the Spirit Hall?
The Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect was one of the Upper Three Sects!
And Yu Yuanzhen was no weakling—an old monster with unfathomable strength!
If cornered, he would fight to the death!
Couldn't these brainless brutes understand a single shred of political nuance?!
Ning Fengzhi felt his heart seize.
He nearly suffered a myocardial infarction on the spot.
A thousand arguments, warnings, and analyses rushed to his lips—
But then—
He turned his head.
And saw—
Thousand Jun Douluo and Demon Subduing Douluo discussing whether they should order pig trotters every day.
Ghost and Chrysanthemum Douluo admiring their enlightenment tea sprout.
Devil Bear, Tuoba Xi, Snake Lance, Porcupinefish…
One table.
Two tables.
Three tables…
Dozens of Titled Douluo everywhere.
All relaxed.
All calm.
All… terrifying.
"Slap!"
Ning Fengzhi smacked a hand onto his forehead.
And finally realized—
This wasn't the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect's problem.
This was the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect's funeral.