"Huff... Huff..."
In the quiet hall, Qiao Bazhi, Liu Qin, and four members of the Nanqinghong Hanghu Branch all turned pale with terror at Ye Fan's ruthless words. They breathed rapidly, their eyes filled with fear.
In comparison, Zhang Zhu, as a martial artist, had more determination and wasn't overly scared, just full of confusion, wondering how Ye Fan knew the Xuanyin Fist, a powerful and domineering martial art.
At the same time, One-eyed Wu Ren, with his major artery severed by Ye Fan's blade, lay there bleeding profusely like a dying dog, gasping for breath as he awaited the end of his life.
"Use the guns! Shoot him!!"
Overcome with fear, Qiao Bazhi suddenly had an idea and shouted loudly at his four subordinates.
Previously, for fear that firing guns would draw the attention of people around the club and bring the police or members of the Yanhuang Organization, Qiao Bazhi had instructed his men to avoid using guns as much as possible.
