Yang Xiao remained utterly indifferent to this.
He appeared completely nonchalant, as if the thirty-some fierce-looking individuals in front of him couldn't exert the slightest pressure on him.
He didn't even bother looking at them; instead, his gaze was on Xiao Ruoruo, who was standing not far from him.
This blatant disregard and contempt made the thirty-some fierce assassins somewhat angry.
They were assassins, not some kind-hearted souls, yet they felt like mere cats and dogs in the presence of this man and woman.
"Miss Xiao, it seems we had overestimated earlier. They don't have forty people; count them yourself, there are only thirty-two!" Yang Xiao said with a laugh, his words seeming a bit nonsensical.
The assassins couldn't understand the meaning behind Yang Xiao's words.
But just because they couldn't understand, that didn't mean Xiao Ruoruo couldn't.
