Waiting area.
Du Mingsheng bought two buns and silently returned to the hotel to continue waiting.
A bite of bun, a sip of soy milk.
Such an unparalleled Grandmaster like him, in theory, doesn't require food—the energy provided by food is almost negligible for such a body.
Yet Du Mingsheng maintained having three meals a day.
For nothing else but the mundane flames of life, which made him feel that he was still a human, not a centuries-old monster.
He finished breakfast.
Wiping his mouth, he stood up, and Du Mingsheng immediately saw familiar chaos fog quietly flowing on the wooden floor of the hotel room, flooding like a river.
"That is..."
He hurriedly performed a respectful greeting.
Moments later, the chaos fog flowing like water had gathered into a vague human form, faintly recognizable as the appearance of a True Man.
"Du Mingsheng of the Second Seat, greets the True Man."
"No need for formalities."
The True Man spoke gently, gazing at the middle-aged man:
