quot;
the monk drank angrily, and the tin stick poked forward and flew out of a demon soldier and fell to the ground. immediately there was no rest.
"buddha also has fire, the little monk now for the world, kill!"
the monk said, when he opened his eyes again, his eyes were really angry and majestic, like a king kong scholar.
the voice fell, the tin rod ran like the wind, and the group of evil soldiers were forced to retreat.
he read the king kong sutra in his mouth and waved his tin stick for a moment.
the monks were supposed to do it, and the tin stick was not mortal, and he died on it, wounded next to him, and no one dared to get close for a while.
he was fighting among the monsters, and the blood of the demon was gradually ntaminated with his robes, and the sound of howling filled his ears, but the firmness in his eyes did not change, and a buddha's heart did not waver at all.
a stick, a life, but not hurt innocent, dodging and moving between even the flowers and plants did not hurt.
buddha wants me to measure the world, i kill to save the world, why do i deserve it?