"You've sustained such severe injuries, the one who should be afraid isn't me."
The officer held a curved saber, his gaze fixed on He Ao's face, obscured by disheveled locks of hair.
The surrounding mercenaries also watched the two men in the midst of battle, their guns aimed at He Ao, yet they did not fire again.
At such a close distance, their reaction speed was not as fast as He Ao's, and no one knew if they would end up like the recently killed "lucky one," lifeless on the ground after firing.
The officer glanced at the mercenaries beside him, aware of their hesitation, but he didn't order them to shoot. Instead, he gripped the curved saber in his hand, his body suddenly spinning, and he charged forward to slash at He Ao.
The curved saber traced a trajectory in the air like a round moon, cleaving toward He Ao's face with terrifying force.
