Before the Sanhe Dojo.
The original stone slabs had been completely covered in fresh blood.
The beginning of rapid decay carried the stench of blood into every person's nostrils.
And standing there, Lin Fan was like a god of death.
He gazed coldly at the opposite, Beitiao Jiancilang.
The disdain in his eyes made him even more terrifying.
As if he controlled everyone's life and death.
"You ignorant rats, I possess an immortal body impervious to blades and spears. Not only swords, even bullets can't harm me. In front of me, these things are just scrap metal,"
Beitiao Jiancilang stretched out his hand and pulled down a Soft Sword from a living corpse.
He tied it in a knot on the Qingfeng Sword.
Then casually tossed it on the ground.
His plump face wore an unrestrained mockery.
"So, are you suggesting to me that you have a golden bell jar and iron-cloth shirt, leading me to find your vulnerable spot, right?"
Lin Fan watched Beitiao Jiancilang.
