Gui Zhongdao found himself caught between a rock and a hard place.
He had failed to realize that the scholarly gentleman lounging on the deck was actually a high-level expert of the True Person Realm.
This ability to conceal one's presence was nothing short of terrifying.
However, Yi Chen's subsequent offer to save face and go their separate ways only made him sneer in response.
It seemed that even if this man had something up his sleeve, he ultimately couldn't be a match for himself, at least not capable of dealing with him. Otherwise, why would he have proposed such a thing?
With this thought, Gui Zhongdao's tone became increasingly forceful.
"Fellow Daoist, you killed my men, and now you expect me to give you face? Then who will give me face?"
"You simply have no respect for me!"
A blood-colored ghost head knife suddenly appeared in his hand.
Yi Chen took a deep breath, suppressing the violence in his heart.
