Wen Xiaojun's key fell to the ground, his hands suddenly gripped two steel bars of the cage, his face twisting in pain.
"Zhu... Liu... how did you..." His eyes were filled with unwillingness.
Standing behind him, Master Zhu chuckled coldly, "Are you wondering how, when you clearly stabbed me with a knife, I'm unharmed?"
Indeed, this was what Wen Xiaojun wanted to ask, for that dagger was a treasured blade given to him by his grandfather.
It could cut through hair and shave iron like mud without a hitch.
Even a Grandmaster's strong body couldn't withstand its sharpness.
So why was Master Zhu unharmed?
Blood continually flowed from Wen Xiaojun's mouth, and he seemed to lose all strength, sliding down along the steel bars of the cage, barely alive.
