Xiao Jianming, following Li Ziwen's orders, walked over to Ning Fan indifferently, his icy gaze piercingly fixed on Ning Fan.
"How do you want to die?" Xiao Jianming's cold voice resonated throughout the entire dilapidated factory.
The whole place seemed to quiet down because of this, with only the sound of unidentified insects chirping, waiting for the scent of blood to drift out.
"Heh heh, the bloodier, the more brutal, the better," Li Ziwen cruelly laughed.
Li Ziwen had witnessed Xiao Jianming's blade technique: fast as the wind, quick as lightning. Once he made his move, even the strongest of opponents would die under his blade.
As for Ning Fan, that was even more certain. Li Ziwen believed Xiao Jianming could chop Ning Fan into a cripple with a single swing; that was the result he wanted to see.
Xiao Jianming drew out his Tang Blade, and the chilly gleam of the blade flashed momentarily, reflecting off his stern face.
