Faced with a dozen shimmering machetes, Ye Lingchen advanced and stepped forward instead of retreating.
One step, two steps...
His pace was slow and steady, like a tiger stalking its prey, and the momentum of his body brought change to the surroundings, producing a gust of wind.
"Damn, you still want to act so pretentiously even though death is approaching! Do you think we're shooting a movie?!"
Ye Lingchen's appearance had a thick air of pretentiousness and he successfully attracted a wave of hatred to himself yet again. After all, his handsome face—coupled with his down-to-earth temperament—could easily arouse the hostility of people who were of the same gender as him.
The onlookers could not help but hold their breath right away. They looked at Ye Lingchen in shock and disbelief.
