Shaman thought to himself that this was indeed the way to do it.
Shaman sighed softly and then looked at Feng Biao's leg. After hesitating for a moment, he whispered, "Maybe you should stop the bleeding."
The posture of a hegemon, ruthless and decisive, meticulous and daring to break new ground—this was Shaman.
Shaman was no fool, no dummy, but the reason he was caught in a dilemma, unable to advance or retreat, was that six men couldn't protect him in front of one unarmed person.
Just because of this, he was helpless until he could be one hundred percent certain that the bomb was fake.
It wasn't about the one percent or the one-tenth of one percent chances, let alone the one in ten thousand chance—Shaman didn't want to bet.
The key thing was there was no need to gamble, so why gamble at all?
If given time, Shaman believed he could definitely become a great leader.
So, Shaman decided to end this ridiculous crisis in the most secure way possible.
Feng Biao heard everything.
