Chapter Twenty-Two: The Power of Teamwork

At this moment, Wu Hua finally witnessed Su2o in action. He was eager to see just how powerful a level 27 psychic really was.

Psychics were considered a fringe profession, but that didn’t mean they were weak. Their strength didn’t lie in direct attacks, but in indirect damage and support effects.

Body, speech, and consciousness converged, channeling a mighty power of signal transference, sending forth a formidable wave of psychic energy—this was the fundamental cultivation principle for all psychics. Su2o belonged to the Manipulator class, able to use psychic force to mobilize surrounding objects, provided his mental power was strong enough.

It might not seem as satisfying as a warrior’s brute hacking, but in truth, it was just as terrifying.

Su2o’s psychic wave shot out, forming a silver-white tornado. This tornado swept up the fine sand and stones from the hillside, rising seven or eight meters high, then quickly spread to the center of the enemy formation.

The hillside was engulfed in sand and wind, visibility reduced to nearly zero. “Drifting Through the Jianghu” launched his lightning ball into the maelstrom; inside, the enemy was blinded by sand, rubbing their eyes frantically. The lightning ball crackled, releasing thick currents of electricity like fingers, seven or eight bolts at once, making the opponents see stars.

“Shoot You Without Guilt” was an elite player. He swapped his magazine and unleashed another wild volley, yelling as he swept, “Die, you fools! Go visit Buddha on your trip to the Western Paradise!”

He and “Ugly Yet Handsome” indeed mowed down more than ten opponents, leaving them prone.

As the smoke cleared and the lightning ball vanished, only a handful of enemies managed to get close—every one of them warriors.

“Dear MM” whispered, “Are we… isn’t this a bit much?”

“Flying MM” looked puzzled, “What do you mean?”

“Dear MM” said quietly, “Isn’t this… a bit shameless?” Her voice was barely audible, like a mosquito, clearly embarrassed.

“Flying MM” widened her eyes, “Not at all.”

“Not at all?” Dear MM’s eyes lit up. She immediately tilted her head and shouted loudly to “Potato” in front, “Then let’s be even more shameless!”

“Wow,” the crowd nearby collapsed in astonishment.

Potato raised his energy sword and laughed skyward, “Come at me, kids! Uncle will buy you candy!”

These warriors knew they were walking into a trap, but there was no retreat—turning back meant facing machine gun fire. They had no choice but to grit their teeth and charge.

With a clang, Potato’s first strike used the flat of his sword, knocking the rubber shield right out of the enemy warrior’s hands. The warrior froze, having anticipated a high-defense chip warrior, but never imagined the opponent’s strength was this overwhelming—at least forty points invested in strength.

“With such power, you should just die as a warrior.” Potato spoke as he swung his second sword. The warrior’s long sword slipped from his grasp, and a purple blade flashed down with the force of a mountain. For that moment’s hesitation, he paid with his life.

The weapon wielded by “Riwan” was a purple kitchen knife—short, but ferocious and ruthless. This single blow dealt a critical damage of 2322 in gold numerals, leaving the MM’s behind him stunned. The phrase “slicing through vegetables” was never more apt—utterly savage.

The warrior’s head was severed, spraying blood before dissolving into a stream of white light data.

The charging warriors were either sent flying by Potato’s sword or kicked to their kn