"Did you miss the part where their gatekeepers are Nascent Soul level? If we charge in there swinging, they will activate their defensive arrays, execute the hostages, and we will be fighting a war of attrition in a confined space. We need to infiltrate."
"How do we infiltrate a demonic brothel that exclusively kidnaps men?" Wen Shiru asked, adjusting his silver glasses, calculating the logistical impossibility. "They will recognize our orthodox cultivation bases the moment we step to the gates."
Ji'an went entirely still.
A slow, devious, unhinged smile began to spread across her flawless face.
She slowly turned around to look at the thirteen male protagonists huddled in the brush.
She looked at Gu Zhiwei's towering, perfectly sculpted physique.
She looked at Lu Jianheng's sharp, aristocratic elegance. She looked at Hu Yanlie's feral, raw, scarred masculinity. She looked at Wen Shiru's refined, scholarly grace, and Xie Wangchen's devastating, otherworldly immortal beauty.
