Three Blades Lin’s Gramps

The peak of Mount Tian.

The colossal corpse of the Violet-Crowned Golden Eagle was lying on the ground. It had a sword wound that stretched over ten meters long on its belly—it had sliced through the bird entirely, and the blood sleeping out was dyeing its beautiful golden feather scarlet.

Beside the corpse, Jiang He had ended his call with Three Blades Lin and Wang Hou with an upset look.

Retrieving the Violet-Crowned Golden Eagle's corpse with a wave of his hand, he could not help sighing. "Huh… the Martial Arts Department (MAD) has such deep pockets, so why are they acting so poor?"

"All I want is a few hundred Orirocks and three tufts of Sword Will Barrenwort, and they are only giving me a hundred Orirocks and one tuft?'

Most importantly, although Wang Hou had agreed to it, Jiang He was afraid from his tone that the MAD did not have that much stock.