The gale roared, lightning tore through the clouds.
Deep thunder rumbled from the horizon, drowning out the sound of gunfire at Peace Farm.
Plop!
Three tattered bodies crashed into the mud almost simultaneously.
From Fang Cheng's landing to the successive killing of three, it took but the span of a breath.
A nearby assassin watched his companions' horrific deaths, terrified, he dropped his rifle and turned to flee.
Fang Cheng stepped forward, his right hand closed into a knife, slicing through his back like butter, instantly penetrating his chest.
Shrrr—
He withdrew his hand, casually flicking away the blood on his fingertips.
The assassin's eyes bulged, his mouth flooded with frothy blood, as he limply fell forward.
Thus, another soul was added to Fang Cheng's tally.
Whoosh—
A few raindrops, big as beans, whipped by the gale, splattered on the blood-spattered red Evil Ghost Mask.
