The young man stood motionless at the mouth of the alley, like a corpse that had just crawled out of a grave.
Jiang Qiao's words were like stones thrown into an empty valley, drawing no response.
But Jiang Qiao could clearly sense the surroundings changing.
An invisible pressure squeezed in from all directions, like an unseen hand slowly tightening into a fist.
The weeds on the ground began to wither.
Centered on the young man.
It spread outward. The blades of grass yellowed, curled, shattered, and turned to dust.
Shen Boxia's expression changed slightly.
"Mr. Jiang, this guy is about to attack."
"I know."
In Jiang Qiao's Dual Pupils vision, a thick layer of Black Mist coiled around the man's body like a living thing that constantly writhed, emitting a nauseating stench of decay.
The aura coming from that short blade was even more terrifying.
The rust on its edge gleamed dark red, while fine strands of women's hair seeped from the blade.
The hair drifted through the air.
Like venomous snakes searching for their prey.
Suddenly.
The young man raised the hand holding the knife, slowly lifting the short blade. The instant its tip rose above his head, the air suddenly let out a piercing shriek.
As if something had been torn apart.
Jiang Qiao's pupils contracted slightly.
He saw those strands of hair spread in every direction like a spiderweb.
Wherever they passed.
Even the light warped.
Then.
The man gripped the hilt and viciously slashed through the air at him!
The instant the blade fell.
Jiang Qiao's body jolted.
A deathly gray scar appeared across his chest without warning.
The scar stretched from his left shoulder to his right ribs, but it was not a wound made by a blade. It looked more like a dark birthmark,