The air was thick with the stench of blood, and the young man clasped a still-quivering, blood-red heart in his right hand, looking as revolting as a skinned frog.
Mao Kangping, Brother Hu, and about twenty or thirty strong men from Yishun Auction House were already bent over, vomiting. Those who could survive in the border trading market had all seen murder before, hadn't they?
However, the gory scene before them shocked their senses. The events of today would likely become the nightmare that haunted them in their midnight dreams for the rest of their lives.
Compared to Mao Kangping and others, Han Chuxue and the Third Master were faring much better. Although they were pale, at least they had not vomited. It goes without saying that these two had a much stronger mental capacity for endurance.
Ye Chenfeng casually shrugged his shoulders, his face still as nonchalant as if nothing had happened just now.
