Douluo Zhibo Madara

Dai Mubai was walking a little bored in the bustling streets of Tuocheng, thinking about his future, and couldn't help but feel confused and irritable.

"Come on, handsome young man," a very colorfully dressed prostitute said with a sweet smile, waving a handkerchief to Dai Mubai.

Dai Mubai got rid of the entanglement of this group of warblers very impatiently, and his heart that had finally calmed down began to become restless again.

Dai Mubai didn't know how long he could escape, or how long he would have to face his inevitable fate.

This is how people are, when they are in a bad mood, they always want to vent it out

Dai Mubai came to the sparsely populated suburbs and roared into the sky, scratching the poor trees in front of him with his claws in depression.

"Why why?" Dai Mubai seemed to be in a daze at this time and kept repeating this sentence.

"Wake up!" A loud shout sounded like muffled thunder in Dai Mubai's ears, and it restored his lost mind.

"Who?" Dai Mubai jumped forward very alertly and looked behind him defensively.

He saw a young man in red armor leaning against a big tree, looking at him with some disdain.

"What a waste." Madara shook his head and said mockingly.

"Do you dare to say it again?" Dai Mubai was furious after hearing this, like a cat with a hairy fur, trying to give Ban a good look.

"Isn't what I said clear enough? Trash!" Madara just happened to be passing by, saw a soul master who was distracted, and woke him up by speaking out.

But the man in front of him seemed a little unappreciative, and instead wanted to draw a sword against his benefactor.

Madara had not considered how destructive these words would sound to the ears of a self-doubting person.

Even if Madara knew, he wouldn't care too much. When did Uchiha Madara care about the thoughts of an unknown junior?

"Yeah" Dai Mubai was obviously a little angry, his face turned red, and he even charged towards Madara ferociously.

Dai Mubai moved as fast as the wind, directly cutting a line on the dense grass in the suburbs, as if he was about to pull out an afterimage.

The strong swing the sword to the stronger, and the weak swing the sword to the weaker.

From Ban's point of view, Dai Mubai treated himself like a soft persimmon today.

A person who avoids troubles, and is even said to be the weakest person, is undoubtedly as bad as the extreme in Madara's impression.

Madara squatted down slightly, making a posture of exerting force, and then walked towards each other without any hesitation.

Dai Mubai never dreamed that a random person he met on the road could be so powerful.

Madara, who rushed forward, simultaneously punched Dai Mubai's tiger claws and collided with them, making a dull sound.

Dai Mubai took three steps back to barely stabilize his body, but Madara, on the other hand, refused to take a step back and even continued to pursue the victory.

Madara's fists were a little sore, and he was a little surprised by the strength of the boy opposite him with a different eye color, but he still said in a mocking tone, "Who gave you the courage to punch me?"

Even Ban felt that his hands were slightly sore. How could Dai Mubai feel better?

Dai Mubai regretted it when the two of them were fighting each other. His entire left arm seemed to be shattered by a punch. He was almost unconscious and could only barely move.

"Come again." Ban didn't give Dai Mubai a chance to be possessed by his martial spirit. He bullied him and drank at the same time: "Let me see your measure."

Dai Mubai also had troubles that he couldn't tell. In a normal battle between soul masters, a spirit possessed by a martial spirit would definitely have to fight the cards seriously. He himself just thought he was just dealing with a spectator, so he underestimated the enemy.

If Dai Mubai was given time to react and possessed by the White Tiger Spirit, he might not be able to fight with him. After all, Ban's spirit would not have any effect on his body.Dai Mubai's White Tiger Spirit can be regarded as one of the top beast spirits in Douluo Continent.

Madara's interest in fighting was also aroused by Dai Mubai. He originally thought that he had encountered a piece of garbage that could not be held up to the wall, but he did not expect that he was still a sandbag who could bear a beating.

Madara was getting excited and no one could stop him. He wanted the Dai Mubai opposite him to be properly repaired.

"Not bad, keep going." Madara laughed wildly, even a little nervous, but his fists were not slow at all, and each punch was stronger than the other.

At this time, Dai Mubai could only block Madara's attack with great difficulty, looking like he was helpless.

After a while, due to the failure of defense, he was hit in the chest by Banma, spitting out hot blood and flew out like a sack.

"I take back what I just said." Madara's expression was much happier than before, like a child who found the toy he wanted: "It is indeed not considered garbage and can be considered to have a slight amount of value."

Dai Mubai staggered and tried to struggle, but was kicked back by Madara.

"If you want to seek revenge from me next time, go to the Soul Fighting Arena." Ban put one foot on Dai Mubai's chest and looked down at Dai Mubai, the loser.

"Who the hell are you?" Dai Mubai stood up unsteadily and yelled helplessly at Madara's retreating back.

Madara didn't respond to his interest at all, and walked towards the town without looking back.

"Kitten, you won't be so lucky next time." Madara waved his hand towards Danmaku Bai, his tone full of contempt.

Dai Mubai lowered his head. Hidden by his golden hair, his expression could not be seen. He could only see his hands, clenched tightly and showing blue veins.

"Soul fighting arena?"

Regarding Dai Mubai's subsequent reaction, Ban didn't see it at all, and even if he did, he wouldn't take it seriously.

The reason why Ban left this sentence was because Dai Mubai's strength was pretty good, and if he practiced hard and beat him hard, he would be a toy that could last a long time.

Madara is so bored that he can only create some low-handed tricks for himself to increase the fun.

Maybe this is the loneliness of the strong

Madara, who had just arrived in Salt City, just had a hasty dinner and then started to participate in the spirit fight non-stop.

Fighting always makes Madara impatient to wait.

"Are you ready?" Jerry whispered beside him.

"Are you looking down on me?" Ban sneered, as if he heard some big joke: "Such a house, you actually need to prepare."

"Whatever you do." Jerry was obviously immune to Madara's choking words, but he still had the urge to hit him.

There is no way, Madara has been here like this all the way, if he doesn't accept it, he will fight, if he can't fight, he will hold it in

So far, no one has been able to educate Ban.

Madara closed his eyes and sniffed, feeling the refreshing breath brought by the light rain tonight.

There seems to be something lacking in this kind of rain and this kind of smell.

Madara opened his eyes suddenly, the blood-red magatama in his eyes turned, and the sneer at the corner of his mouth also climbed onto his cheeks.

Come to think of it, what I'm missing is the screams and the smell of blood.