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墨書 Inktalez
The group of over a dozen men in black behind him burst into laughter, their mocking tones filled with disdain, which made Le Yao Yao's blood boil.
"You’re the ones who are neither male nor female! Your whole family is like that!"
In contrast to Le Yao Yao's furious state, her little face flushed red, and her small hands clenched into tight fists, wishing she could rush forward and beat these people up.
Beside her, Leng Junyu seemed completely indifferent to the scene unfolding before him.
However, only Le Yao Yao, nestled in his embrace, knew that the living hell was actually angry, and the consequences would be severe.
Though Leng Junyu's face was as inscrutable as a bottomless pool, calm and unruffled, it was impossible to discern his thoughts. Yet, the chilling aura emanating from him was akin to a Shura emerging from the depths of eighteen layers of hell, thick with the scent of slaughter.
He didn’t speak, but his actions spoke volumes.
Having lived for so many years, Le Yao Yao had led a simple life and had never witnessed such explosive scenes; she had only seen martial arts films on television.
But compared to those trivial fights and killings, the real-life slaughter happening now made her understand what true mastery looked like!
In her mind, she recalled what Little Muzi had once said.
—The Wise King’s martial arts were so high that they were beyond comprehension; his methods were ruthless and ferocious.
Little Muzi's words were absolutely correct.
Just looking at the man holding her, she felt that no weapon was needed, for his hands were the best weapons in the world.
With a sharp crack, someone's head twisted at an odd angle, facing backward.
With a loud bang, another person's head burst open, brain matter splattering everywhere.
A cry escaped as someone's intestines spilled out.
At that moment, witnessing the bloody and chaotic scene before her, combined with her body being tossed around like a sandbag by his movements, Le Yao Yao couldn't hold it in any longer; bile churned violently in her stomach.
Her delicate face turned pale as paper, devoid of color.
Perhaps Leng Junyu also sensed Le Yao Yao's distress; his handsome brows furrowed slightly. He swiftly leaped and placed Le Yao Yao beneath a nearby tree. Then he turned and jumped back into the fray.
Once Le Yao Yao was in a safe spot, her mind remained blank.
She was completely stunned by the horrifying scene unfolding before her.
So many dead bodies.
The increasingly strong smell of blood filled her nostrils, causing Le Yao Yao to finally succumb to nausea and lean against the tree to vomit.
If it were possible, she truly wished she could just roll her eyes back and faint.
Helplessly, she was terrified at that moment, yet she couldn't faint no matter what. To make matters worse, she suddenly felt a chill around her neck as a cold blade pressed tightly against her carotid artery.
Le Yao Yao felt like crying without tears.
She had barely digested the shocking events of being inexplicably transported to this place, and now she found herself in this predicament, being held hostage. Was there anyone else as tragic as her?
Le Yao Yao wanted to cry...
"Leng Junyu, stop right now, or I will kill her!"
The one holding Le Yao Yao was none other than the arrogant Eight Tigers from earlier.
Originally, Eight Tigers and his dozen or so brothers had been planning for a long time to come here with all sorts of schemes, intending to catch Leng Junyu off guard and take revenge for their 180 brothers from Liangshan.
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