Ruan Zeyan was locked in an intense fight with the last two assassins, his suit already taken off and thrown onto the ground not too far away. His white T-shirt had been ripped at the collar during the fight, his fringe was sticking to his forehead, stuck by the tiny drops of sweat. Ruan Zeyan's eyes were sharp and focused, his actions fast and clean. Even if he was at a disadvantage since his opponents had more people, he was certainly not on the losing end.