Chapter 278. The Identity of the Dark Heavens (1) (Teaser)
Hong Gao raised his arm. With his calloused hand, he tried to grab the sword stuck in his chest, but he couldn't do it. Blood boiled from his neck, and his lungs felt sore, almost as if they would tear apart as they desperately tried to breathe.
Thud, clatter.
His wrists fell to the floor, and the prayer beads wrapped around them snapped.
"So… assassinate…"
Huí Guāng Fǎn Zhào.[1]
Before he breathed his last, the desire in his eyes shone brighter than any light.
In the eyes looking back at him, there was no guilt or anger—only regret.
Hong Gao swung his fist with every ounce of strength he had remaining.
"Heup!"
Squelch!
It wasn't any last resistance or struggle. As if he had gone crazy, Hong Gao punched himself in the chest and made a big hole.
"Make sure… you assassinate… me… properly…"
Hong Gao took a feeble step forward. As Zhou Xuchuan's sword was pulled out, his horribly torn internal organs fell out.
The view of his back showed off an inexplicable madness.
"With… my death… make sure… Shaolin…"
He wasn't able to finish his words. To be honest, it was a miracle that he was still alive.
Thus was Hong Gao's end.
Crazy bastard. Zhou Xuchuan stuck his tongue out and shook his head.
***
The murim was in a turbulent era. Days as memorable as today had happened only a few times throughout the murim's long history.
"The Hundred Paces Fist Monk is dead!"
"Just what kind of bad luck has befallen the Shaolin Temple?"
"Isn't it the Righteous...
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