Fog permeated the air.
Flashes of firelight flickered intermittently.
"What technique is that?" the gunman murmured.
"The power of the knuckle dusters," the team leader said.
Xiao Baihong couldn't help but twirl his umbrella and said,
"This kid, why does he have to create so much fog when fighting? Should we go in?"
"Don't," the team leader replied succinctly.
"The fog is meant to obscure the opponent's vision; going in might lead us to accidentally injure each other," Ying assessed.
"Now it seems, Little Wu is not a simple martial artist," the gunman thought aloud.
The next second,
A shadow rolled out from the fog.
Everyone was on high alert, but upon closer inspection, it was that Lizard Man.
Lying on the ground with a swollen bruised face, its body was badly burned, looking deranged, it muttered resentfully,
"Dirty... too dirty..."
"This isn't battle!"
"I don't ever want to meet such a person again; I'd rather die!"
Everyone exchanged glances.
