"Okay."
Two of the four Fifth-Grade Martial Artists outside the warehouse were alarmed and swiftly left following the sounds of fierce battle, leaving the remaining two to continue guarding.
The sound of footsteps faded into the distance.
But shortly after, urgent footsteps returned.
"Zhao San, why are you back?"
"The enemies are more than just the two people, there are other accomplices, you all need to come with me quickly."
"Other accomplices?"
"Where are the people?"
The two leading Fifth-Grade Martial Artists had no doubts, eagerly asking questions, but before they finished speaking, everyone present suddenly felt a gentle breeze, and before they could react, they felt a weight on their necks.
Zhao San caught the stiff bodies of the two, and with his other hand quickly fumbled upward and downward, soon feeling satisfied as he retrieved a silver warehouse key from one of them.
At this moment, Zhao San stepped toward the warehouse.
In the next moment.
