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Zhao Qian turned to the man, but since he was suspended in the air, he no longer had the strength to talk. He moved his mouth, but only hoarse whimpers came out, along with blood.
The person waved his hand. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. I know what you want. Don’t worry, since I’m here, regardless of whether you die or not, I’ll complete your request. Worse comes to worst, I’ll bring your corpse back.”
Chen Chuan cast the man a glance. The newcomer didn’t seem to want to stop him, and it was clear that he held no respect for his client.
Chen Chuan didn’t know what the man was planning, but since he had clearly shown his intention to fight, he wasn’t going to ignore him.
He pulled his saber back so Zhao Qian would crash on the ground, then grabbed Zhao Qian’s collar and dragged him to the car.
The person continued standing on the railing and watching with interest.
Chen Chuan tucked a foot under the double-handed longsword that had fallen on the ground and flicked it up so he could grab it. Then, he threw Zhao Qian on the trunk and drove the longsword into his chest, pinning him against it with a wet squelch.
Zhao Qian jolted, then went still.
He was far too heavily injured at this point and had lost...
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