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The Haisha Gang's experts retreated like a receding tide. Yokoyama Chizang, who in life had seen himself as noble and superior, now hung like a tattered sack of rags against the wall.
No one dared to retrieve his corpse. The crowd quickly dispersed as Li Xiaofei returned to the apartment. He had chosen not to massacre the rest of the Haisha Gang.
First, they were his compatriots. Achieving a certain level of martial prowess was no easy feat, and if they could be reformed, their skills would be of great value in defending Haijing City during this era of population decline.
Second, Li Xiaofei did not believe that all of them were inherently evil. He doubted that there was not a single good person among the thousand or so members. Though he was decisive in taking lives, he was not bloodthirsty. These individuals could still serve a purpose in his future plans.
Back in the apartment’s living room, Li Xiaofei glanced at Nan Hua.
"Eh? What’s wrong with you? Are you okay?" he asked, noticing her strange expression and awkward posture.
"Ah, I’m fine… I just need to change clothes." She replied hurriedly.
Her pale feet pressed against the floor as she turned and scurried into her bedroom with an odd gait....
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