The battle erupted, and people fell intermittently.
The Mandarin Duck Blades, Eight Brother, Peacock, Owl—each of them was stained with blood.
But the more they fought, the braver they became; these people were simply no match for them.
Moreover, the enemy didn't dare to use guns.
However, Peacock had no such concerns; the Desert Eagle in her hands became a divine artifact of death.
Every time she fired, someone would fall.
Each shot hit right between the eyebrows, such marksmanship was terrifying.
"Damn it, they're actually masters!"
"Quick, send our elite members!"
Atop the tower, the middle-aged man's face darkened as he saw this scene unfold.
He could clearly see that the skill level of Peacock, the Mandarin Duck Blades, and the others was absolutely terrifying, far exceeding that of the guards.
He had to quickly call out the elite squad; otherwise, all his guards would be slaughtered.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
