"Next time, don't say so much nonsense."
Gazing at the eight survivors in the crowd, Ning Fan said coldly, "Can we talk now?"
"Yes, yes."
The bald man, his body covered with dragon and phoenix tattoos, nodded anxiously. As a leader, he was well aware that there were martial artists in this world with powers similar to Superman.
And this stranger before him was undoubtedly one of the best among them.
Ning Fan pointed to the middle-aged man and asked, "Who is he?"
Vivian seemed to have been too heavy-handed; that man was lying like a dead dog, still unconscious.
"This..."
Seeing the bald man hesitating, Ning Fan didn't waste words and randomly picked someone, then kicked them.
With a loud bang, the person slid down from the wall, neck crooked, obviously dead.
Seeing the cracks on the wall, the bald man's pupils contracted, surprised by Ning Fan's ruthlessness.
"Can you talk now?"
"Even if I talk, can you guarantee to spare us?"
"Still trying to negotiate."
