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Neigh.
A shrill whinny pierced the air as another steed had its heart torn out by the living corpse. Terror twisted the faces of the Feihong Gang brothers all around, and some even turned as if to flee.
Puff.
A blade pierced the belly of a man who tried to run. The blade belonged to Jia Yanyong, his expression feral.
“Run? The hell you are! Anyone who tries to run dies!” shouted Jia Yanyong. He had always been a vicious, battle-hungry man. Loyalty to his brothers was absolute, but anyone who fled was no brother of his.
Squelch.
Xie Jiang’s blade swept across a man’s throat, and his savage eyes swept over the rest who were thinking of turning tail. Though he often joked and laughed with Lin Zheyu, looking no different from any ordinary man, no one who lived the gang life was ever truly kind.
It wasn’t just them. Even the...
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