The iron rod, carrying a gust of wind, smashed towards Zhang Xiaohao's head.
"Be careful!" the young matron hurriedly exclaimed.
Zhang Xiaohao's eyes turned cold, and with an outstretched left hand, he caught the hurtling iron rod in his palm.
"I'm quite familiar with this move! Now, have a taste of your own medicine," Zhang Xiaohao said indifferently.
He snatched the iron rod from her grip and casually smashed it forward.
"Don't..."
Thud!
The middle-aged woman's words were cut short as the iron rod directly shattered her skull; half of her corpse fell to the ground, dead beyond doubt.
"Damn you! How dare you kill Sister Mei, you rotten kid, you're going to pay!" A roar suddenly erupted from within.
Scramble scramble scramble...
Hasty footsteps sounded as a group of about twenty ruffians, armed with machetes, quickly rushed out and surrounded Zhang Xiaohao and the two others in the middle.
