As soon as Nian Shutong finished speaking, he heard gasps around him, everyone looking at her with a "this person is doomed" expression.
"Hmph!"
The Beastman in front snorted, raising fists the size of cooking pots, ready to smash Nian Shutong's table.
"That's not good."
A single finger flicked the Beastman's right hand, followed by his left hand.
"Ouch—-"
The Beastman shouted, blowing air on his fists with his big mouth.
No one around made a move; this was Xuanling Continent, a world where strength was supreme, where getting killed on the street was just your misfortune.
Unlike the interstellar realm, where although strength was still respected, there was at least a veil of decorum. Here, power equaled justice, regardless of right or wrong.
Now, everyone's gaze towards Nian Shutong changed—this street vendor, that formidable?
That was a Beast Clan, one of the top three on the Western Continent, never easy to provoke.
