The knife wound was not fatal, at least the one on his leg, but Yang Long had a feeling of being at death's door. He knew he couldn't run anymore and could only await his death at the hands of Chen Kai.
He was unwilling, but there was nothing he could do. It was only now that he truly understood regret. He had done many regrettable things in the past, but only now did he feel the deep pang of remorse.
Chen Kai was truly terrifying. Yang Long had never heard of a man who could take down over a hundred men single-handedly. Of his 170 men, Gao Ming had dispatched merely forty or fifty, while the rest had been defeated by Chen Kai.
How can one comprehend or believe such a phenomenon? But the reality was evident before his eyes, forcing him to believe.
While these thoughts were rapidly going through his mind, Chen Kai reached him, casually grabbed his hair without a word, and manhandled him across the ground.
