"Old ghost, the Dragon Paint is not safe in your hands. It should be with me for it to be truly secure." The scruffy middle-aged man, resembling a roadside beggar, reached out a muddy hand toward Gravekeeper.
"Is that so?" Gravekeeper clutched the blood-red Dragon Paint, smiling faintly. "But why do I feel that I can only trust it in my own possession and not anyone else's?"
"Do you really believe that?" The scruffy middle-aged man chuckled softly at Gravekeeper's words and then withdrew his hand.
After Gravekeeper nodded in response, the scruffy man sighed lightly, "So, it seems you and I must fight today?"
Gravekeeper shook his head, "I will not fight you."
"But I must obtain the Dragon Paint!" The scruffy man pressed forward, and as he spoke, his entire aura became abruptly sharper.
As the scruffy man's aura intensified, Gravekeeper stepped back half a pace, eyes flashing with astonishment, "Haoxu, your strength has increased so much?"