Li Shun's bodyguards formed a protective circle around him.
A few bodyguards had already fallen to the ground.
The throats of the deceased had been slit, their blood spurting out like a waterfall.
"Boss, run, we'll hold him back,"
The burly Alee stood sideways in front of Li Shun.
A bloodstain had appeared on his bull-like neck, the flesh turned inside out, his upper body dyed red with blood.
Yet this fierce big man showed no fear on his face.
Another one of Li Shun's chief bodyguards, Bai Yang, kept his distance, forming a protective angle with his boss.
There was a deep scratch on Bai Yang's cheek, bone deep.
However, his hand held a Little Knife horizontally in front of his chest, unmoving, his eyes fixed on the middle-aged man.
"Heh heh, do you think you can stop me?"
The Iron-faced Assassin let out a leisurely sigh.
He muttered, "Overestimating oneself is a sickness that must be cured."
In the next instant, his figure suddenly vanished.
