Blood splattered all around, with Ning Tianlang darting from left to right like a specter, leaving a trail of afterimages in his wake!
"Die, all of you! Hahaha!"
Body after body fell to the ground—their guns smashed into scrap metal by sheer force. Ning Tianlang laughed ferociously, his body wrapped in a chilling layer of bloodshed.
He curled his fingers, and unknowingly, his ten fingertips had transformed into a new, ominous form. His hands shrouded in black, with strands of blood visibly coursing through, and nails lengthened, resembling demonic claws. These hands bore no resemblance to that of a human's!
Blood dripped from his fingers. Bullets whizzed through the air and collided with his body, tearing his clothes apart, but they merely lodged in his skin without penetrating any further!
Within mere moments, eight men had already been slaughtered by the death god that was Ning Tianlang!
