How did this little bastard talk?
Why did he insist that this old man had to choose death?
Although this old man's cultivation had yet to reach the peak of the Eighth-tier Saint Star Position, I wasn't far off, was I?
And he was even talking about the difference between leaving a whole corpse and being chopped into a hundred and eighty pieces?
What a fucking bastard!
Even if they really had to be compared, who compared them like that?
"Look, you can't even say anything yourself, can you? This young master has to admit that many times, I can only use a blade to kill people. But when I see those I kill die in several pieces, this young master feels bad too!"
"Unfortunately, my master gave me far too little poison. There's no way for me to make everything perfect!"
"Tragic, truly tragic!"
"What a pity for so many fine men. They couldn't even leave behind an intact corpse after death!"
Qin Shaofeng continued speaking there in grief.
Yet his words nearly made Fan Shanhui unable to restrain himself from springing up and killing him.
How could this little fellow talk so much?
You didn't have that much poison?
If you really did, then the ones dying probably wouldn't have been just three or four thousand people. You would have poisoned every last one of them to death, wouldn't you?
You're so capable—why don't you just fly up to heaven?
"Bastard! You're so lofty and righteous, so why don't you just kill yourself? Wouldn't that spare so many people from dying because of you?" Fan Shanhui finally cursed furiously.
Every word out of his mouth was filthy.
"Bullshit!"
A rough voice suddenly rang out.
Looking up, Fan Shanhui saw that the speaker was actually Liu Shui, who was