Worthy of a Black Veil Assassin

But the moment he charged into the alley, several bald, burly men appeared outside it.

These bald men wore nothing but white briefs. Each stood over two meters tall, their muscles knotted like twisted roots, and every one of them stared fixedly at him.

"Not good. There are other trackers!"

When Killing Dagger saw these bald men, he immediately realized that he had probably been completely exposed.

As an assassin, Killing Dagger knew very well what exposure meant. Once his identity was exposed, there was only one choice: kill every witness.

As long as all witnesses were dead, it did not count as exposure.

His body moved even faster than his thoughts. The instant he realized he had been exposed, he turned into a streak of black light, instantly closing in on one of the burly men as his sharp dagger plunged into the target's throat.

There had been no flourish in that strike, but the instant the blade went in, his expression changed sharply.

No matter how much a human body was tempered, the feeling of piercing cells was different from piercing other substances. As an assassin, he had no idea how many targets had died beneath his dagger.

Thus, he had developed a feel for it.

It was like a sixth sense bestowed by the unseen. The moment his blade entered the burly man's body, he knew something was wrong. This was not a sensation a human should have.

Sure enough, in the next moment, the burly man paid it no heed and wrapped both arms around him. Already on guard, Killing Dagger retreated in time and instantly opened up distance from the men.

He looked at the burly man's throat and saw a great amount of earth surging over it, instantly repairing the wound.

These burly men