The walkie-talkie cut off abruptly before the message could be finished.
Zhao Heng's face changed color, and he hurriedly called out to Wang Bing.
"Wang Bing, Wang Bing, what's happening outside?"
However, there was no response.
At this moment, a melee involved twenty or thirty people erupted at the entrance of the Zhao Family manor.
But upon closer inspection, it was easy to discern that the other party in the fray consisted of only five individuals.
Yet, those five were gradually gaining the upper hand.
Wang Bing wasn't taking part in the battle; he was intently watching the fray unfold before him, his expression grave.
Just then, a dark figure rapidly approached from a distance, blending into the night, and in a blink, appeared before Wang Bing.
The person was wearing a black mask, completely concealing their face.
Wang Bing's eyes flashed like lightning, and without a word, he spun around and threw a flying knife.
Swoosh!
