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Lu Xin’s voice was choked with guilt. Dong Rui was the mortal enemy of the entire Rock Wolf Clan; after all that hatred had piled up, it had finally cornered him, only to let him slip away again.
He Lingchuan took in the narrow scratches across Lu Xin’s head. One gash even crossed the right eye; a hair deeper, and the wolf would have been blinded. Beads of blood rolled down along its snout. It had not had a second to lick them clean.
He had to be the one to comfort the companion. “If he were so easy to catch, he wouldn’t be wanted by so many states.” From two clashes already, he had learned that Dong Rui was a fox—strike and, if the strike did not kill, vanish. He never lingered to trade blows, never chased the illusion of a maybe. One misstep, a single loose thread, and he would be gone without a trace.
Men who were that cautious were not easily cornered.
People said that his gang of monster puppets was small precisely because each one demanded painstaking preparation. He had already lost the werewolf earlier, so this ghost ape had to be his strongest card left. Dong Rui could not afford to lose it.
This meant that the vulture circling overhead had come to retrieve the ape.
Given that, He Lingchuan ordered, “Stay tight. Don’t let them out of our sight.”
Dong Rui tried...
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