Chapter Ninety-Nine: A Stomach Ailment Does Not Necessarily Begin with the Stomach

The middle-aged man was quite honest. As soon as Ye Cheng asked, the man poured out his story like beans spilling from a bamboo tube, detailing his entire experience seeking medical treatment. After finishing, he went on to recount his history with medication to Ye Cheng:

"Doctor, whenever I had stomach pain in the past, I often used the quadruple therapy—amoxicillin combined with clarithromycin and omeprazole..."

He was extremely excited, feeling that encountering such a medical genius in his lifetime made it worth dying for. If a lollipop of that size were to explode, barring any surprises, the DEM Society would likely be erased from the world.

She had actually earned hundreds of thousands; it was the first time in her life she’d made so much money.

But the Core of the World had yet to appear, which left Liu Yu somewhat disgruntled. He never cared about aliens; what he always sought was the Core of the World.

She lowered her head, only to see a sudden, large footprint before her, pressed upon that patch of green.

Especially the first few old farmers, who were left speechless when they learned Morlea was offering such a high reward. Yet, seeing Morlea knocked out nearby, they were puzzled—how could someone worth 170 million be defeated so easily?

Except for Alan centuries ago, no one had entered the World’s Primordial Tree for tens of thousands of years.

From what he knew, the bandwidth of CertainSound in his previous life was at the terabyte level, with dedicated data centers covering hundreds of acres and as many as 400,000 servers.

He realized that if the Li Group were to be completely dissolved, the work of his entire life would be utterly ruined.

"Hey! Wait..." Kisuke Urahara frowned as he watched Dao Feathers Aura disappear. He reached out to grab her, but caught nothing, left with only empty air.

Li Xiuyuan’s eyes lit up; his body, which had been on the verge of collapse, was instantly revitalized. He rushed forward, stumbling and crawling, as if he’d forgotten all his supernatural abilities and become an ordinary person.

Wu Shang furrowed his brow, wrapped his arm around Jinxiu, and sat together in the grand chair. He gazed at the stiff yellow paper on the table, falling into thought for the first time. Jinxiu leaned comfortably against Wu Shang’s shoulder, waiting patiently for his answer.

No matter how many times she kissed him, she still hadn’t learned the technique, her kisses devoid of any pattern—her teeth often bumped against his lips. It didn’t hurt; it was rather ticklish.

In the next moment, Yezi strode forward, his left foot stamping hard into the earth, sinking deep into the mud. The force of that step was immense, clearly putting forth his full strength in his battle with Luo Liang.

That sentence was fiercer than any aphrodisiac in existence. Wu Shang held Jinxiu tightly in his arms, his nose filled with her cool, pure fragrance. The corners of Wu Shang’s mouth curled, yet darkness surged in his eyes. In the end, the darkness faded into gentle warmth.

Reminded by Lin Long, Zhang Ji noticed it too—Liu Zhao, born an assassin of the underworld, carried a heavy aura of death, a habit ingrained over the years. Thinking of this, Zhang Ji’s expression darkened. He whispered a few words into Lin Long's ear, who received his orders and departed.

"Don’t worry, I’m definitely not a bad person. Although I’ve forgotten why I tried to kill myself, I don’t care anymore. I just want to find Jun Sheng." She looked at me, speaking with utmost seriousness.

Looking around for ages without seeing the person she wanted, Deng Mengting’s beautiful face revealed a trace of grief. Yet, knowing she was before the entire martial world, Deng Mengting refused to let her sect lose face. She quickly suppressed her sorrow, not daring to let others see.

Seated at the head of the table, Wang Xu rested his head on his right hand, casting a sideways glance at Yunhai, unconsciously radiating an inexplicable aura.