In the reed marshes, a small boat drifted downstream. The boatman knelt on the boat, hands clasped in fear, muttering incessantly under his breath.
"The Disaster Organization, sounds formidable, doesn't it?"
Beiyou tilted his bamboo hat upward, gazing at the sky shrouded in dark clouds, "I wonder if I qualify to join?"
"You?" scoffed the Blood Phase beside him, "You don't even have the skills of a Foundation Establishment Zhenren, let alone the ability to announce yourself to the world. You're nothing but trash, not even qualified to be cannon fodder without the Celestial Spirits or Earthly Fiends."
"And what are you, something less than trash? A cockroach?"
"I'm just missing the Celestial Spirits. One more step and I can attempt the Foundation Establishment. I might even have a chance to get into the Divine Marquis Mansion. But how many more years will you have to endure?"
