"Sir Demon Hunter... What are you..."
Little Yee swallowed nervously, her mouth dry.
An icy sting on her neck made her freeze in place.
It was not that she couldn't move, but that she dared not.
"What do you think?"
Yi Lin narrowed his eyes and smiled, his expression as warm as sunlight in a mild winter.
But the knife in his hand pressed a few centimeters deeper into Little Yee's skin.
Black blood traced a thick line down the groove of the dagger, finally dripping from its tip.
Drip, drip.
Little Yee's frail body stiffened.
"Sir Demon Hunter..."
Little Yee managed a sob.
Yet her ten trembling fingers silently bulged with veins under the coarse hemp clothes, at the back of her hands.
Nails—
Surging!
Hiss!
Unexpectedly, Yi Lin dragged the blade downward.
Blood splattered.
But because of the angle, not a single drop stained Yi Lin's white clothes.
Little Yee's eyes widened in shock as she stumbled several steps forward.
