"Kill him, kill that bastard, I beg you." Ignoring the gun to her head, An Yun harbored a fierce desire to take down Zhang Ziwen if only she had a gun herself.
"You...stay where you are!" The woman dressed in black yelled, noticing Zhang Ziwen closing the gap.
She moved her gun away from An Yun's head and pointed it at Zhang Ziwen. Just as her hand raised, Zhang Ziwen made his move. A cold light, swift as lightning, flashed and a throwing knife flew out. The sound of flesh being pierced resonated, and a bead of blood flew out. The throwing knife, exceptionally accurate, pierced the woman's wrist, causing her pistol to slide from her grasp. As she bit back the pain and reached with her injured hand towards the detonator, she instead found Zhang Ziwen's hand. With two brutal snaps, Zhang Ziwen swiftly dislocated her wrists. A woman's earsplitting scream resonated from her throat, her wrists dangling, held together only by skin, the bones were harshly displaced.
