""".
In a short while, Pang Yishan was left dumbfounded again.
Hundreds of men surrounded Su Weidong and attacked him, their swords and knives slashing at him in a frenzy as if money was no object.
But Su Weidong was unscathed, instead, he continued to swing his Little Black Knife, slashing at those around him. One by one, martial artists fell into pools of blood.
"Butler, aren't you guys going to help Young Master Su?" a security guard quietly asked Pang Yishan.
A thought struck Pang Yishan and just as he was about to rush to action, Mo Huasong's voice echoed in his ears: "No need to help Weidong, you guys guard the outer perimeter. Don't let a single one of them escape."
"M-Mr. Mo——" Pang Yishan turned his head in surprise, but Mo Huasong was nowhere to be seen.
At this moment, Pang Yishan's admiration for Mo Huasong reached its peak. What kind of martial arts strength did one need to be this powerful?
