The Strongest Immortal Cultivator Across the Multiverse

"Hey, have you heard? They say the six great sects are going to besiege Bright Summit."

"That's right. This time, those demon cultists are doomed for sure."

"Those demon cultists, their deaths are nothing to regret."

In the bustling tavern, a table of patrons chatted in hushed voices.

Not far from their table sat a young man of seventeen or eighteen, clad in white robes, who happened to overhear their words as he raised his cup. He couldn’t help but shake his head.

He only shook his head absentmindedly, but this gesture was caught by the martial artists discussing the demon cult. Hot-tempered as they were, they assumed the young man in white was openly disagreeing with their words.

"Boy, what are you shaking your head for?" one of them shouted, pointing at him.

"What’s wrong?" the other three, confused by their companion’s sudden outburst, asked.

"He shook his head as we spoke, clearly looking down on us," the first man declared.

"Shaking his head?" The three exchanged odd glances. In their world, to shake one’s head while another spoke was a clear sign of disagreement. They weren’t at the same table, but why did the young man in white choose that moment to shake his head, if not to show contempt?

"Boy, explain yourself. Why did you shake your head?" the man demanded.

The young man in white glanced at him, then calmly resumed sipping his wine, as if he hadn’t heard a thing.

This indifference ignited the man’s fury. A