Time was pressing, and Lu Bu'er had already heard the echoing footsteps from the underground ruins, so he no longer planned to waste time with this group. His right hand subtly reached into the Dark Matter attached to his behind, and he touched the Wooden Sword in the tennis bag.
A sudden killing intent swept through the corridor at that moment, but Ihiko Furukawa did not retreat. Instead, he slightly squatted and took a solemn stance, his hands pulling the sword from its sheath.
The bright sword light reflected the middle-aged butler squatting in the corner. He adjusted his glasses with an expressionless face, but his bent body was tense like a fierce tiger. His right hand had also unconsciously reached into his waist, touching a Nepalese curved knife.
The subordinates took deep breaths, their pupils flowing with a crimson hue.
Obviously, all these people had mastered the Ghost Technique.
With their original talents and capabilities, this was an impossible feat.
