When Jia Xin retreated several meters and looked back at The Barber again, the evil man in a light blue surgical gown sprouted eight arms from his body. However, each arm had only two fingers at its tip, made for gripping scissors.
"Crazy bastard."
Jia Xin sensed the bloodthirsty aura radiating from the other man's body affecting the entire area within a hundred meters. Under its influence, Jia Xin felt as though he had been isolated at the center, like a turtle trapped in a jar.
"Not taking out a weapon? I want to keep your corpse intact and bring it back for a proper study and dissection."
The Barber was astonishingly agile. In a short time, he continuously changed positions around Jia Xin, leaving behind more than ten afterimages. The sound of scissors snapping from every direction moved with Jia Xin's body. Frequent cuts appeared on the sleeves, underarms, and back of his white robe, though they only reached his outer clothing.
Until ten pairs of scissors suddenly surrounded Jia Xin from all directions, Jia Xin, who seemed to have been forced into a dead end, raised his right arm and pointed his index finger straight at The Barber's brow in the upper right.
The ten pairs of scissors snapped shut at once. Jia Xin's body only shifted slightly in form, while his feet remained rooted in place without moving even a fraction.
A gust of chilling wind swept through the woods. Jia Xin remained where he was, his right arm still raised. Countless scissor marks had appeared on his clothes, yet not a single one had touched his skin.
Drip, drip!
The Barber, half-crouched on a tree trunk, waved his ten arms in an eerie manner. A bloody hole, neither deep nor shallow, had appeared between his brows,