Ten draws of Farmer? What the hell is Star-Destroying Pea Shooter?

In the city, in an ancient courtyard, eighteen monks stood respectfully in front of Fang Ming.

Their faces were either old or young, but at this moment, they all showed a trace of confusion and obedience without exception.

All around, the colorful charm mushroom shooters were like loyal guards, continuously shooting pink love arrows at these monks.

After several hours of attack and defense, these monks were already exhausted physically and mentally.

Whenever a monk was shaken by the attack of the charm mushroom shooter, Kailan Hall would take action in time and heal him with his natural power.

This went on and on until just now, when all the monks were finally charmed successfully.

At this moment, these monks have completely become Fang Ming's slaves. Their eyes are empty and dull, waiting for Fang Ming's order. Even if they were asked to burn down the Buddhist temple, they would not frown.

Fang Ming slowly scanned the eighteen monks in front of him and asked, "What are your identities?"

Some monks answered hoarsely, "I am a disciple of Zen Buddhism."

Several other monks continued, "I am a disciple of Tantric Buddhism."

And those burly monks holding long sticks said in unison, "We are Buddhist monks."

Among the monks, there was a man with a skin color like brass or gold plating, and muscular, he said in a deep voice, "I am one of the seventy-two bronze men."

Fang Ming heard this and immediately focused his eyes on the monk who was one of the seventy-two bronze men.

It really took this man a very long time to charm successfully, and he was crippled and cured by the charm mushroom shooter five times!

I didn't expect him to be one of the seventy-two bronze men. He is really different. No wonder he is so difficult to tame.

Fang Ming pondered in his heart, then cast his eyes on the Tantric disciples and asked, "Have you Tantric disciples been restricted?"

The Tantric disciples nodded one after another, with bitter expressions on their faces. One of them replied, "We must be restricted before we know the secrets of the Buddha Kingdom. Once leaked, we will die."

Fang Ming frowned slightly when he heard this, and turned his eyes to the Zen disciples and the monks.

The monks also nodded one after another, with helpless expressions on their faces, saying that they were also restricted and could not tell the secrets of the Buddha Kingdom.

Fang Ming couldn't help but feel irritated. He originally thought that by charming these monks, he could easily find out the truth about the drought in the west, but he didn't expect to encounter such a tricky restriction.

He took a deep breath, tried to calm himself down, and then placed his last hope on the seventy-two bronze men.

He looked at the dark-skinned monk and asked, "What about you? One of the seventy-two bronze men, have you also been banned?"

The seventy-two bronze men had no expression on his face, and said in a low and firm voice, "Master, I have also been banned. The secrets of the Buddha Kingdom are not something we can reveal."

Fang Ming slapped his head when he heard this, and thought to himself, "I can't get the answer today. The truth about the drought in the west still can't be learned from these people."

Fang Ming's eyes were sharp, and he asked again, "Who are not banned?"

The monk, one of the seventy-two bronze men, looked solemn and slowly said, "It depends on what the secret is. For ordinary secrets, the Eighteen Arhats don't need to be banned, Or the elders of the three sects and one academy. As for the core secrets, only the four great Vajra are not subject to restrictions. If it involves the fundamental secrets of the Buddha Kingdom, only the three great venerables can be exempted from restrictions, and even the four great Vajra must be subject to restrictions before they can know. "

Fang Ming frowned when he heard this, and continued to ask: "What exactly is this restriction?"

A Tantric disciple, with a bitter face, replied: "Restriction is equivalent to a soul contract. It is based on faith, and the parties must sincerely agree and sign it before it can take effect. Once violated, it will directly lead to life and death, regardless of strength. These restrictions are generally imposed by the elders of the Tantric sect. "

After hearing this, Fang Ming had a plan in his mind.

This restriction is a mandatory contract with great restrictions, which must be signed without resistance.

Once signed, no matter how strong you are, you cannot violate it.

He looked at the Tantric disciple again, his eyes flashing with coldness, and asked: "Who has not been banned from the secret of the drought in the west?"

The Tantric disciple was embarrassed and answered: "This matter is not big or small. Arhats, you can speak frankly."

Fang Ming understood immediately after hearing this.

As long as he caught an Arhat, he could find out the secret of the drought in the west!

He was excited and asked while the iron was hot: "Where are the 18 Arhats?"

However, most of the monks did not respond, obviously they did not know the whereabouts of the Arhats.

Only one of the 72 bronze menThe monk, with a twinkling gaze, slowly said: "I know where the Happy Arhat is!"

Hearing this, Fang Ming's frown finally relaxed, and a rare look of relief crept onto his face.

He secretly rejoiced that at least in this foggy search, he finally found a ray of light.

As long as he could find the Happy Arhat and use the charm to subdue him, the mystery of the drought would be solved.

He couldn't wait to ask: "Where can I find this Happy Arhat?"

There was a hint of urgency in his voice, as if he was going to rush out to find him the next moment.

The monk, one of the seventy-two bronze men, had a calm face and slowly said: "He should be in Bodhi City at this moment."

After hearing this, Fang Ming ordered directly without any hesitation: "What are you waiting for? Lead the way quickly!"

His tone was firm and unquestionable.

Then, he swept his eyes over the monks who had been charmed, and a hint of coldness flashed in his eyes.

He turned to the charm mushroom shooter beside him and whispered: "They are useless, get rid of them."

Before he finished speaking, the charm mushroom shooters quickly took action, and arrows with strange hearts cut through the air and shot accurately at the monks.

The monks seemed to have lost their self-awareness, and had no reaction to the impending disaster. Their eyes were empty and dull, like zombies.

After a while, the ground was full of monks' bodies, their faces were distorted, but there was no sign of struggle or resistance.

They had been charmed, even if Fang Ming asked them to commit suicide, they would not hesitate.

Fang Ming did not take a second look, turned around and took the monk named Powang, and stepped onto the broad dragon back of Shyvana.

Shyvana's scales flashed dazzlingly in the sun, looking majestic and mysterious.

On the dragon's back, Fang Ming finally had time to ask the only survivor: "What's your name?"

The monk Powang put his hands together and said in a calm and deep voice: "My name is Powang."

Fang Ming nodded gently and said nothing more.