"Let go of my mom, let go of her!"
A little boy in torn clothes, with a dirty face, was tightly holding onto a cultivator. The cultivator's hand was coldly dragging a comatose woman, devoid of any pity, as if dragging trash, his face expressionless.
"Get lost!" The cultivator kicked the boy away. With his Foundation Establishment perfect realm, this kick was enough to kill the boy who had no cultivation.
But unexpectedly, the boy merely flew dozens of meters away, miraculously stood up again, the black aura around him growing thicker, angrily yelling at the cultivator: "Let go of my mom!!!"
"Oh, didn't die, you have quite a special physique here." The cultivator turned back in surprise looking at the boy, showing a playful smile.
To encounter an indigenous person with such a special physique here indeed aroused his interest.
