Qilin slowly stood up from the side, his silhouette elongated by the setting sun's afterglow, both mysterious and majestic. He glared at Logan, his eyes revealing an indubitable resolve, as if victory was already in his grasp.
"I know you have many treasures and magical treasures," Qilin's voice was deep and forceful, each word seeming to be squeezed out between his teeth, "but you must hand them over. Only by doing so can I give you a quick end."
His words carried a veiled threat, as if he had already sentenced Logan to death and was merely waiting for the right moment to execute him. Upon hearing this, the corner of Logan's mouth curled into a cold smirk. He looked down on Qilin from above, his eyes exuding disdainful arrogance.
"Did you think it would be that easy?" Logan's voice was cold and firm, as if he had already seen through Qilin's scheme, "Do you think I would easily hand over my treasures and magical treasures to you? Ridiculous."
