Russell Bell brandished the knife, his expression somewhat dazed.
The kid in front of him was truly uncanny; how did he suddenly emerge out of nowhere? This is the fifth floor!
Then his face twisted fiercely, revealing a sinister look.
"I don't care where you came from, you've come just in time. I'll deal with both of you at once!" Saying this, he waved the sharp knife in his hand.
Sullivan Richardson squirmed, trying to scream, but her mouth was covered, and all she could do was let out muffled sounds.
My face was icy, a murderous rage erupting in my eyes.
I wasn't a bloodthirsty person, and after becoming a cultivator, I had only killed a handful of people; whether it was Scarface Hernandez or Jose Roberts, and those so-called masters, they all deserved to die.
The man before me, too, deserved to die!
"You little punk, I'll kill you first! If it weren't for you, how would I have fallen to this point."
