Not good!
Lei Hu, Fat Cat, and the others wore expressions of tension. The situation they had feared the most had still occurred—Wang Bao had turned against them.
"Ah, this guy is unlucky!" Johnson sighed.
"Hehe, they have an old saying in Dragon Country, 'A common man is not at fault; the fault lies in holding a jade token!'" the black butcher said with a sneer that did not reach his eyes.
It happened in the blink of an eye—Wang Bao's fist violently struck Ye Wudao!
Boom!
A muffled sound echoed.
Wang Bao had a fierce look on his face, "My punch is sufficient to instantly kill an ordinary first-grade Qi-blood realm martial artist!"
Before his words could fade, the Ye Wudao in front of him suddenly turned into an afterimage and slowly dissipated.
"Damn it, it's just an afterimage!" Wang Bao's expression froze.
Suddenly, a succession of swishing sounds came from behind him.
Swish!
Swish swish!
