With forty assassins wiped out in one breath, Mo Qiong let out a long sigh of relief.
Only a few stragglers remained. Mo Qiong gripped his short sword and charged them.
The moment they clashed, he sensed something was wrong.
Their attacks were far weaker than he had expected, and their sharpness was nowhere near that of the assassins he had encountered before.
Compared with the first assassins he had faced, these black-clad men were far less practiced at manipulating their vision. With Eagle Eye, Mo Qiong could spot them at a glance and no longer needed to spin around to block.
His short sword caught the Wrist Blade. With a sweep and a twist, he counterthrust, driving the Wrist Blade into the enemy's neck.
In theory, as long as the enemy stayed focused, he could pull the blade out the instant it pierced his neck and avoid a fatal wound.
But the Black-clad Assassin before him failed to do so. With a splurt, he killed himself.
Their strength and reactions were far inferior to Mo Qiong's.
After casually stabbing several of them to death, Mo Qiong discarded his blade and captured one of them barehanded.
He forcefully wrenched the assassin's arms behind his back and pinned him to the carpet. First, he dislocated his joints, then Mo Qiong freed one hand to search him from head to toe.
After only two touches, Mo Qiong suddenly felt his protective suit meet resistance, as though something had pricked his hand.
Only then did he discover that the surface of the Black-clad Assassin's robe concealed countless barbs. The spikes were as fine as ox hairs, but fortunately, he had his protective suit.
His first thought upon seeing the spikes was that they were poisonous.
That made sense. If this needle-like design was