More than half an hour later.
Lu Chuan led Ning Yang and the others through a stretch of unfinished buildings, and finally arrived on a ruined, dilapidated street, stopping at the entrance of a bar.
"Right here!"
Cold Killing Intent filled Lu Chuan's eyes as he sneered. "This man should be hiding underground, but it's all futile. The scent of my medicinal powder isn't that easy to conceal."
"In that case, we kill our way in!"
A fierce light likewise flared in Ning Yang's eyes. He was no kindhearted soul either. Cold Killing Intent surfaced in his gaze, and he gritted his teeth as he grinned. "Demonic Martial Artists, cultists... Hmph, they all deserve to die..."
Immediately, without another word, the group barged straight into the bar.
The moment he entered, Lu Chuan sensed that something was wrong.
At this hour, the bar should not have been completely empty. Clearly, the place had been cleared out in advance. His pupils shrank slightly, and he said in a low voice, "Everyone, stay sharp. The other side must know we're coming and prepared ahead of time."
As he spoke, he had already drawn his War Blade.
They knew full well how strong he was, yet still made preparations to deal with him. It likely would not be simple.
Ning Yang and the others' expressions changed one after another, their faces turning incomparably grave. He immediately said in a low voice, "Everyone, stay close. Be careful..."
The ten of them immediately advanced with utmost caution.
Clang!
Suddenly, at that very moment, a change abruptly erupted.
The bar counter was suddenly flipped over by someone, and a violent figure, like a tiger or leopard, flashed fiercely and pounced straight towards Lu Chuan.
It was a Demonic Martial Artist.
But it was not the one