Nighttime Killing Intent

Zhang Tiankui's back muscles suddenly tensed, drawn taut like bowstrings.

This was the sign that the Dragon Spine was exerting force.

After so many years roaming the roads of Jinmen, no one had ever dared speak to him like that.

A surge of foul anger welled up in Zhang Tiankui's heart. Out of the corner of his eye, he swept over the men blocking the way.

Although each of them had a new-style Flintlock Firearm tucked at his waist, the distance was only seven steps. With his skill, Zhang Tiankui could easily snap the necks of all three before the guns fired, then use their corpses to shield himself from the firearms above and break out of the encirclement.

Yet the faint, icy aura deep in the cargo hold licked at the back of his neck like a snake's tongue.

Zhang Tiankui's Adam's apple bobbed. He forcibly suppressed his killing intent, raised a brow, and said with a smile, "Brother King Snake really has thought of everything."

He deliberately smacked his lips and drawled, "I've been rushing east and west these days. My guts are almost as hungry as twisted hemp rope. Liu Ji's braised intestines need to be drenched in garlic sauce, Qingyuan House's roast meat has to come with cilantro, and Yuansheng Shop's sorghum liquor—hee-hee, it has to be an aged vintage cellared last year."

"Authentic!"

The gold-toothed man released his grip on the gunstock and gave a thumbs-up. "Master Zhang knows his stuff. Sit tight. I'll get it right away."

Once the gang members had withdrawn, Zhang Tiankui turned around, and a cold glint flashed in his eyes.

With a flip, he lay down on the broken bed and stared at the web hanging where the cargo boxes joined.

A green-headed fly was slowly being wrapped up