The Strongest War God-Chapter 1938: That Lunatic

However, even a tiger can be bullied by dogs.

He had been imprisoned here for countless years, and now they were being sold like goods.

"Damn, this is too much!"

"Kid, are you really going to sell me?" The transcendent level nine expert was stunned.

"I’m helping you escape!"

Braydon Neal was shameless.

He was clearly going to sell him, but still had the audacity to say he was helping him out of trouble.

He was trying to fool them.

The level nine transcendent expert looked suspicious, feeling disgusted as he noticed the robed youth and the demon youth eyeing him like merchandise.

The demon youth turned to Braydon with a hint of eagerness, asking, "How much for a level eight transcendent expert?"

"50,000 peak resources," Braydon replied.

Level eight was half the price of level nine.

And he wasn’t about to negotiate.

The demon youth hesitated before speaking. "Maknum’s body is only worth 10,000 peak-level resources. It contains the path of transcendence. It should be able to create a transcendent level eight, making it equivalent in value."

"That’s a dead body. This one’s alive and whole. Are you saying I don’t know the difference, or that you don’t?" Braydon’s eyes flashed with disdain.

The demon youth looked blank, clearly not fully understanding.

"I’ve completed the path of transcendence. If I extract it and fuse it with my body, I have a 50% chance of reaching the eighth level," the young man said in a low voice.

"Stepping into the eighth level, fusing with the path of transcendence, making it your own—there’s a chance of reaching the ninth level!"

"The reason Maknum’s path is being sold so cheap is because the path of the nine levels has been destroyed. Otherwise, do you think you’d be getting it at this price?"

"Repairing the transcendence path of the ninth level is a thousand times harder than breaking through from the eighth to the ninth level."

The young man had laid it all out.

It could be considered a favor to the demon youth.

The demon youth immediately understood—you get what you pay for.

"I want number 998!" he said decisively.

"You know your stuff," Braydon nodded. "I’ll give you a day to prepare. Don’t wait until it’s too late—you should know the drill by now. No need to worry about selling them."

"Alright!" The robed youth and the demon youth replied, then quickly left. They didn’t linger long, leaving the small world to contact the experts backing them.

In the prison, Braydon hadn’t left yet.

He stood, hands behind his back, looking calmly at the black prison floating in the air. "The buyers have left. Now, let’s talk."

"Aren’t you afraid of karma for selling us like commodities?" the transcendent expert asked, his gaze unfriendly.

Braydon laughed.

For thousands of years, it was always others who feared forming karma with them.

Now, someone was asking if he was worried about karma.

Ten thousand generations of karma didn’t bother these guys much.

But some things still needed clarification.

Braydon spoke softly, "You want to escape, and I want to use you to get the resources I need. We both benefit. If you agree, we cooperate. If you don’t, you stay trapped here."

"I agree!" The level nine transcendent expert sounded confident.

He believed that once he escaped, no matter who bought him, he could fight his way out.

At that moment, over a hundred spiritual waves reached out to Braydon. "I’ll cooperate with you!"

They were all high-level transcendents, unafraid of being sold—just terrified of remaining trapped forever.

Braydon responded calmly, "Don’t rush. I know what you’re thinking. You figure once you leave this black prison, you’ll attack me, kill me, and escape. Am I right?"

Silence fell over the spiritual waves.

More than 90% of them had exactly that thought.

The level-nine transcendent expert from cell 1488 spoke evenly, "Not me. You sell me, get your payment, and I’ll gain my freedom. Once we’ve settled up, I’ll rely on my strength to escape. It has nothing to do with you. How does that sound?"

"Before we cooperate, we need a little trust," Braydon said calmly.

Both sides needed trust, but this trust clearly couldn’t be built on words alone.

Promises were meaningless; after reaching this level of cultivation, he likely couldn’t even remember all the promises he had made.

How many had he actually kept?

The ninth level transcendent realm expert frowned. "You don’t have the same strength as I do. No matter what promises I make, you won’t believe me. And no matter how many restrictions you place on me, they’ll be useless because your cultivation is too low!"

"You’re quite honest," Braydon smiled as he walked toward the black cage. The prison, only the size of a room, seemed to have innate patterns both inside and out, intricately fused with the entire structure.

Destroying it would be extremely difficult, especially since it was set up by a level ten supreme transcending expert.

Indeed, breaking it would require a method of the same caliber—tenth-level technique!

Braydon realized that, with his current cultivation level, he couldn’t destroy this place and help the level nine transcendent expert escape.

But someone could.

"Ancient Soul, you’ve been out for so long. Why haven’t you returned to your body?" Braydon asked, hands behind his back.

His indifferent words seemed to cut through the air.

Swoosh!

A spatial door appeared outside the cage in the small world, and a black soul returned from beyond the universe, his face marked by unhappiness.

The ancient soul’s eyes widened as he restrained his aura to the limit.

He entered the prison and looked at Braydon, slowly saying, "What is it?"

"Help me break this prison!" Braydon pointed at cell 1488.

The ancient soul glanced at it and replied indifferently, "It’s not difficult. But after I’m done, I still have to leave."

"You and I are one!" Braydon looked at the ancient soul, who seemed eager to run away, feeling a headache coming on.

The ancient soul was very serious. "If you don’t agree, I won’t do it."

"Leave tomorrow," Braydon conceded.

The ancient soul stepped out and raised his left hand, transforming it into a blade that slashed at the black cage.

Swoosh!

Just one slash.

The black cage hanging in the air was cut in half, and it fell.

At that moment, a majestic voice echoed from above the cage. "You’ve ruined my plan!"

"I did it. What do you want?" The ancient soul’s expression remained calm, as if he were ready to fight at any moment.

The dignified voice fell silent for a moment before bursting into laughter. "Haha, I know who you are now. You son of a b*tch. Do you still remember me?"

"Who are you?" The ancient soul replied with disdain.

"You broke into my forbidden area in your first life. You drank with me for nine days and were drunk for three years. You even became my sworn brother!" The dignified voice had a playful tone.

"Squire Tabert!" the ancient soul and Braydon exclaimed in unison.

That lunatic—the one who called himself the grand justice.

Braydon had wondered who it was; now he understood.

The dignified voice spoke again. "Why are you ruining my plan? It’s best to keep these guys locked up. If we let them out, they’ll only ruin our plans."

"Tell me." Braydon’s eyes turned serious.