Zhao Ritian had been about to deliver Zhang Heng a fatal blow when someone grabbed him and stopped him.
Zhao Ritian turned around in surprise. "What are you doing!?"
Long Aotian was furious and snapped back, "What are you doing!?"
"I'm beating him up. He's asking to die. Ask him yourself if you don't believe me."
Long Aotian gripped Zhao Ritian's arm tightly. "What did we just agree on?"
"What agreement?"
"A perfectly good Ghost Four Gates, weren't you supposed to let us slowly... play with him? You went straight for the kill. What am I supposed to play with now?"
Zhao Ritian said, "Whose fault is it that you're not good enough?"
"I'm not good enough!?"
While the two argued, Zhang Heng lay on the ground vomiting blood as he quietly pulled out a short blade.
You two bastards! Do you even see me as a person? I'm Ghost Four Gates! Not some game console!
Gritting his teeth, he gathered all his strength and suddenly sprang up, stabbing toward Zhao Ritian's lower abdomen.
Zhao Ritian and Long Aotian were deeply engrossed in their argument. Zhao Ritian casually swung a backhand slap, and with a smack, Zhang Heng's entire head snapped sideways. If not for his neck, his head would have spiraled into the sky.
After staggering a few steps, Zhang Heng finally steadied himself, worked his jaw, and wore an expression of grief and indignation.
You two bastards! I'll fight you to the death!
Clutching his short blade, he charged again, this time heading for Long Aotian!
Long Aotian glared at Zhao Ritian and roared, "You motherfucker, keep provoking me and I'll kill you!"
As he spoke, he turned and kicked Zhang Heng, sending him flying and rolling far away.
Zhang Heng lay on the ground, coughing up blood.