Any man's vital parts, when threatened in such a way, inevitably shudder.
The burly black man's complexion began to change, and his limbs started to tremble uncontrollably.
But despite this, he remained silent, silently resisting.
Whoosh!
The dagger in Yang Fei's hand suddenly transformed into a streak of cold light, stabbing downward.
The burly black man suddenly let out a pained cry, "Don't..."
Yang Fei's dagger suddenly stopped in mid-air, his wrist as steady as a rock, with a smirk that was not a smile, watching the burly black man.
He said indifferently, "I thought you were really tough? You couldn't even take it for a moment, and I haven't even stabbed yet."
The burly black man had already closed his eyes in despair.
The expected pain did not come, only a chilling breeze was felt.
His thigh skin, touching the cold sharpness of the dagger, made him shake with fear.
