He staggered back, clutching his blood-soaked severed arm with his left hand, pleading repeatedly: "I can save you, I have a yacht at East Port, don't kill me!"
Swish!
"Save your damn yacht!"
Zhang Su didn't give the other a chance to continue speaking. With a twist of his waist, he swung his arm precisely and decisively severed the other's throat.
"You, you, blub...blub..."
Su Chef didn't expect such decisiveness, his pleas falling on deaf ears. He clutched his gushing neck, eyes filled with unwillingness and anger, and collapsed to the ground with a thud.
"Shark arm, I didn't even use the crossbow arrow, haha!"
Zhao Dezhu approached Zhang Su with a crossbow gun in hand, shaking the precise weapon, yet Zhang Su didn't acknowledge him. Curiously, he asked, "Brother, you..."
"Brother Su, Brother Su, where is Sister Xue?"
Wu Lue rushed in, not seeing Zhao Xue, and urgently asked.
"What's happening with Pei Lan?"
