You've never seen such a righteous villain [Transmigration Book]

Lu Qianchuan stopped and walked on the small path wrapped in the woods, the sky was dark and then bright, and he counted, he had been lost in this dead wood forest for three days.

[-] had reminded him before that after the seal was released, there might be even greater hidden dangers. He ignored it and forgot about it. Now that his body really started to feel unwell, he remembered [-]'s earnest words at that time.

The limbs were so sore, as if two forces were fighting in the body, the lightness when the spiritual power had just recovered disappeared, and was replaced by a pain like a needle prick.

And the hunger in the stomach.

It stands to reason that with his cultivation base, not eating for a month will not affect anything, but now his spiritual power and magic power are not stable, and he can barely use his spiritual power to suppress his physical fatigue on the first day. After the second day, After the seal was released, the backlash reaction became more and more serious. The magic power and spiritual power crossed and collided in the body. Not to mention using the spiritual power to relieve fatigue and hunger, even a little movement of the spiritual flow in the body, the ensuing erosion of magic power would make him miserable. unspeakable.

Lu Qianchuan didn't know why he became such a sad and sick body. All kinds of physical discomforts accumulated together. He almost didn't want to take a step, but he was thinking about Mo Chenyuan who went crazy somewhere. Almost masochistically forcing himself to move forward.

After walking in a daze for a long time, the narrow path finally came to an end. There was a narrow and flat stone arch bridge in front of him. The houses at the other end of the bridge looked like houses, which seemed a little more popular.

Lu Qianchuan was taken aback for a moment, feeling that this place was somewhat familiar, as if it was a scene he had described before.

That Mo Shenyuan...

The surprise in his heart turned up layer by layer, and he suddenly regained some strength, took a breath, and walked quickly to the arch bridge.

Walking across the stone bridge, the scenery in front of you suddenly opened up.

This is a town where human beings gather. Various shops on the street open their doors to welcome customers.

Lu Qianchuan walked too fast, and he couldn't hold the breath he had just lifted up. He stopped in discomfort, leaning on the stone pillar by the bridge and panting.

If it weren't for him being the creator who conceived everything here, I'm afraid he would also be blinded by the illusion in front of him.

How could there be a bustling market like the outside in Raksha Hell? All the people who can survive here are Raksha evil spirits wearing human skins to dawdle.

Under these lively surfaces, there are bloody faces one after another hidden, as well as the absolute power sifted out by the law of the jungle.

The exhaustion in his body was overwhelming, he couldn't catch his breath, he felt that his internal organs were roasting in a raging fire, and he was about to smell the burnt smell of roasted heart and liver.

After a while, Lu Qianchuan walked past Jin Xing who kept circling in front of him, and walked towards a restaurant with a large facade.

Before it was time for dinner, there were only a few scattered people sitting in the restaurant. The potbellied shopkeeper was fiddled with his abacus behind the counter, and his mustache that was parted into two parts was about to go up to the sky.

There was no waiter in the store, so Lu Qianchuan went straight to the counter. Seeing someone coming, the shopkeeper put the abacus into his sleeve, and smiled a little on his not-so-friendly stern face: "Guest officer, please sit down."

For some reason, there was a smell of blood in the restaurant, Lu Qianchuan frowned, and pressed his hands on his stomach, barely holding back the surging nausea.The law of survival here is like this, the smell of blood everywhere, the corpses everywhere, to make a living in hell, one must learn to do as the Romans do.

"A pot of tea and a bowl of noodle soup."

He took out two silver coins from Qiankun's sleeve and put them on the counter, turned around and walked outside, picked a table in the ventilated place closest to the door and sat down.

The shopkeeper accepted the money with a smile on his face, and raised his voice to ask: "The steamed stuffed buns in the shop are also excellent, would you like some from the guest?"

The sour water in Lu Qianchuan's stomach was so dangerous because of his words, he waved his hands vigorously, turned his head to look outside the door, and took a long breath of the fresher air outside.

Just because of the smell of blood in the air, who knows what the buns here are made of, he is not sensitive to all stuffed food in Raksha Hell.

At a square table not far from him, several mediocre-looking men were sitting or leaning, their gazes roving over him intentionally or unintentionally.

Feeling their gaze, Lu Qianchuan secretly alerted himself, but his face remained calm, leaning half of his body on the back of the chair, pretending to close his eyes and rest his mind.

The Rakshasa in Raksha Hell used to be real human beings, and some human customs are more or less preserved here.For example, coins, as long as they are gold and silver, can be used as currency in circulation here, regardless of the standard.

He had no intention of revealing his wealth, and only picked the most worthless silver coin in his purse, but unexpectedly, he was still being targeted.

The few people glanced at him mischievously, but did not move for a long time, so Lu Qianchuan pretended not to know anything, and waited for the shopkeeper to serve him the food. Instead of thanking him as usual, he just swaggered eat up.

His eating habits have always been elegant, no matter how hungry he is, he can't eat like a wolf. What's more, he also feels sick while hungry, and he swallows and chews a little slower.

In this kind of place of tigers and wolves, the elegant appearance is mostly untenable, the more elegant it is, the more weak and deceitful it is. When the men saw this, they gave each other winks, all of which seemed to be secretly snickering.

The shopkeeper stood behind the counter, Bafeng watched the undercurrent surging in front of him without moving, and he had already started to think in his heart how he should get rid of that frail young man when the fight was over.

Such incidents are just commonplace for him, and the most important thing for a businessman is the benefits he can get.

Lu Qianchuan was slurping noodles when suddenly the table shook, and a generous hand fell in front of his eyes.

That hand was full of wounds of different lengths, there was a thick layer of calluses on the tiger's mouth, and the skin between the index finger and middle finger was rough and dry.

He raised his eyes slowly, and stared at the man in front of him who had been thrown into the crowd and could never be found again.

The man's appearance is astonishingly mediocre. Even though his nose and eyes are all normal, when gathered together, he becomes a public face without any characteristics. This is really a skill.

——This is indeed a skill.

They may have all been human at one time, but after staying in such a ghostly place for a long time, no matter how human they looked, they became inhuman and ghostly, and finally became Rakshasa that was rejected by both the human world and the ghost world.

The Rakshasa who have been tempered by hell have long since lost their human appearance. Most of them are hideous and terrifying, but they are always willing to live in a layer of human skin.

And this layer of human skin also has knowledge.

Too beautiful or too ugly to impress people at a glance, this kind of person probably won't live long-it's too easy to be discovered.

The man kept looking at Lu Qianchuan and sneered.

In Raksha Hell, Lu Qianchuan's appearance clearly belongs to the category of "short life".

He bent his index finger and tapped on the table lightly: "Brother, you are very rich."

Lu Qianchuan swallowed the noodles in his mouth calmly, fisted with one hand, and pressed his arms on his stomach: "It's an honor to eat a bowl of noodles at the expense of the family."

Several men gathered around him at this time, burst into laughter when they heard this, and almost pointed their fingers.

The man who spoke to him first looked like their boss. He had been standing at the forefront of the group of men. After laughing with his brothers, he turned back and said, "That was really not easy."

As he spoke, he raised his hand, picked up the noodle bowl, flipped his wrist, and all the noodle soup in the bowl fell to the ground.

Lu Qianchuan watched him move expressionlessly.

His stomach hurts badly, and it didn't relieve much after eating the noodles. On the contrary, it tended to become more and more painful. Seeing the man dump all his noodles, he was not only not sorry, but also felt a sense of relief in his stomach.

The man's gaze was locked on his face, seeing that he had remained unmoved, the arrogance and complacency he had just now suddenly subsided, a frightening anger suddenly appeared on his face, and he threw the noodle bowl away.

Lu Qianchuan remained expressionless.

He has even seen Mo Chenyuan, who is in a state of madness, how could he be frightened by this little man's little trouble, and he was not interested in watching him play well, and was too lazy to tangle with him, stood up, and raised his feet to leave.

Two of their accomplices stood in front of him and barred his way.

Lu Qianchuan has his own iceberg aura, with a cold appearance of thousands of miles of ice and snow, his figure flashed, and before those men could see the clue, he had already left the restaurant and stood a few feet away from them on the far street.

The shopkeeper fiddled with the abacus, his black mustache moved, and suddenly he lowered his eyebrows and closed his eyes, no longer paying attention to the movement over there.

This kind of situation has been seen many times, and it is very clear which one is easy to offend and which one is not to offend him.

The shopkeeper aspired to be a petrochemical man who could only fiddle with the abacus, and he didn't dare to make a sound, as if he was suddenly strangled by someone.

Those men didn't have such good eyesight as him, after a moment of stupefaction, Qi Qi yelled a few times and hurriedly chased after him.

*

Mo Chenyuan wandered around the foot of the mountain where he woke up for three days.

He wanted to use his spiritual power to find out the location of Lu Qianchuan, but he didn't expect that after his spiritual light spread out, when he reached a certain distance, it was as if he had hit a wall, and he couldn't go any further.

And within the range he could reach, there was no shadow of Lu Qianchuan.

Mo Chenyuan was so irritable that he walked towards the distance with his command in hand. His footprints were printed on the thick loess, and he went around in a circle, and then went back to the place where he woke up in the first place.

The black cloud that I saw when I opened my eyes was still guarding the desolate place where not a single blade of grass grew, and even its position didn't change much.

Seeing him come back, a burst of cheers erupted in the black cloud: "I'm back, I'm back!"

"Oh, I just said I can't get out, and you still insist on arguing with me."

"I saw that he was so majestic, and I thought he was very powerful..."

Si Ming's red sword light flew out suddenly, weaving into a dense red net, wrapping the black cloud in its entirety.

Mo Chenyuan's body was red and black, and his tone was cold: "What does it mean that you can't get out?"

Heiyun was bound into small black pieces by the net, and there was a sound of crying for father and mother, and a delicate female voice was extremely sharp: "If we can get out, we will still stay here!"

Another more refined voice said: "That's exactly the case. We did our best to help Xiongtai find someone, but Xiongtai acts like this. It's really not kind."

All kinds of echoes came and went: "Not kind! Not kind!"

If the murderous aura in Mo Chenyuan's eyes could be transformed into form, the black cloud would have evaporated into air for him long ago. He clenched his sword tightly, and his voice was squeezed out from between his teeth: "Where's the person?"

The black cloud swayed around for a while, patching together to find small black pieces, and reassembled a complete body.

The moment he regained his original shape, an extremely realistic and detailed picture suddenly unfolded in front of Mo Chenyuan.

On the screen, there are row upon row of houses, just like a town in the world. On a relatively wide street, a man in white clothes stands in the middle of the street with his hands behind his back, surrounded by a field of dead men.