"Okay, Mom."
"Don't call me Mom. Call me Dad."
Their trivial family chatter completely ignored the assassin. He tried to pull the trigger, only to find that his pistol had shattered into flat, even slices.
Like a sword without form.
A sharp pain shot through his fingers.
The assassin lowered his head.
He saw an angelic face. Xuanyuan Sword was smiling, innocent and gentle.
It was the last thing he saw.
The elevator climbed upward, heading for the top floor.
The chubby-cheeked little girl high-fived Zhao Bai. Sword qi named Taixu pierced through heaven and earth; using it to bully ordinary people was truly a waste. The assassin stood there without a single wound on his body, yet believed he was already dead.
Since he thought he was dead, then he was dead.
A very profound philosophical question.
Zhao Bai could not be bothered to think about it.
The elevator was still climbing, and it seemed there was still some distance to the top floor. Zhao Bai kicked open the elevator ceiling and jumped onto it with Xuanyuan Sword, hiding there.
As for that senseless corpse.
He would remain a corpse for a long time, until he realized he was not actually dead.
It would be a long process.
Zhao Bai held his breath and made no sound.
The elevator arrived.
The metal doors slowly opened. The standing figure made no sound at all.
"How did it go?"
"That shareholder who never knew how to pick his timing—does he no longer have a chance to speak?"
"..."
There was no answer.
He was as still as though he had died. His silent body swayed a few times before collapsing with a crash right in front of his teammates. The mockery had not yet faded from their faces before it