On the hospital bed next to Shen Wanhao lay Old Qin, who had been nearly crippled by Yang Xiao.
Old Qin was a shadow of his former self, his features withered, making him look not like a middle-aged man but rather like a little old man.
His injuries were much more severe than Shen Wanhao's. If not for his extraordinary constitution, he probably would still appear half-dead, even after several days of treatment.
Upon hearing Shen Wanhao's inquiry, he pondered for a moment.
"There shouldn't be a problem, as long as there are no accidents, Yang Xiao is certain to die! Lone Wolf is a notorious figure in the assassin's world. Once he makes a move, hardly anyone can escape unscathed, after all, his sniping skills are impeccable."
Old Qin said coldly, his words seething with hatred for Yang Xiao.
Yang Xiao made him what he was now, virtually a living death. He thought about killing Yang Xiao every moment.
