Not dead yet.
One of the examinees from the White Faction clenched his fists tightly, watching helplessly as the sharp tip of the blade hovered directly above his head.
It seemed as though the next moment it would drop, and Shou Shou would chop him entirely in two.
Yet there was still at least some room for maneuver.
Before the joy of surviving the disaster could even emerge, he heard a familiar voice by his ear, the very one that had just brought them endless, nightmare-like terror.
"Mr. Bo."
Only, it was completely different from the previous icy banter; the articulation was soft, sounding just like a lover's whisper.
Could this be a voice that this madman was capable of producing?
That White Faction examinee was stunned.
The unmasked footsteps from behind drew from far to near, swiftly reaching his ears.
Xi Guici's originally icy gaze quickly withdrew from these "sacrifices," and then he turned his head, looking toward the person coming in from the door with smiles dancing in his eyes.
His words carried just the right amount of astonishment, "Why did you come now?"
He looked exceedingly open and gentle, as if all this blood-soaked business was not his doing.
This overly matter-of-course attitude made Bo Shuo, who had entered from the entrance, narrow his eyes, and he said with a hint of light mockery, "If I didn't come, how would I know what on earth you've done."
From the moment Bo Shuo stepped into this cave, his whole body felt somewhat numb.
He did not know how many people had died here; even the bones on the ground were coated with a layer of blood color, and the sound of gurgling water came from the dark corners. Looking closely, that was no water at all—it was clearly