Feng Lin had been an assassin when he first encountered ancient martial artists.
He was very clear about the ins and outs of that world.
The amount paid for an assassination was directly proportional to the person's status and position.
A thug like the one in front of him wouldn't be missed by anyone even if he died.
As long as the body was destroyed without a trace, someone would definitely take a 300,000 job.
However, those who usually took such jobs were minor assassins hidden within the country.
They weren't even ancient martial artists, and the methods they used were very crude.
"Ni Ma's! Who the hell do you think you're scaring?"
Xiang Qun picked up the bowl in front of him and smashed it towards Feng Lin's head.
Whoosh!
Feng Lin quickly dodged and grabbed his wrist.
In an instant, a terrifying force surged over him like a tide.
Xiang Qun felt as if his wrist was clamped by pliers.
The bowl he held fell uncontrollably, but Feng Lin caught it with his other hand.
