"Who are you?" Wenren Ningjing shouted with her eyebrows arched in anger.
"You don't deserve to know!" Qiao Mu raised her hand with a frigid expression, and her crow repeating crossbow slipped out from her sleeve, suddenly aiming at Wenren Ningjing's direction.
"What are you doing?" Wenren Ningjing yelped, and she abruptly shrunk her neck while covering her head with her hands.
Yet she only heard a rapid breeze whipping past her ear, and it seemed like the arrow had shot something instantly. The sound of something falling promptly came from behind her.
Upon turning around, Wenren Ningjing finally pieced together what had happened.
It turned out that a civilian in the crowd had already mutated furtively. It was clawing for the back of her head, yet the little lady on the city gate tower had shot it flying with an arrow. This arrow had directly pierced through his skull and left him deader than a doornail.