The showdown had yet to begin, but its source had already been dealt with.
Wuta suddenly sprang up and lunged over, trying desperately to salvage the situation, but could only dig out a bullet. The sinister grin on Boss Li's face had yet to fade and was now frozen there forever. His corpse decayed rapidly, soon looking as though he had been dead for three days.
The sinister energy in the house vanished before Zhang Ninde could even react. The bodyguards and family members outside rushed in together. At the sight of the corpse, they exchanged bewildered looks and, jumping to conclusions, asked foolish questions.
"Huh?! What happened?"
"Did something bite him?"
"Master, did some ghost turn on him?"
"Can he still come back to life?"
"Master, what do we do now?"
What kind of ghostly backlash left a bullet? How was he supposed to know what to do? Speechless, Zhang Ninde said, "This is a fucking shooting! Call the police!"
He turned to look at Wei Yanchi, only to discover that Wei Yanchi had already left.
Retreat!
After landing a headshot, Xie De deftly disassembled the gun and packed it into his guitar case. He hurried from the rooftop into the Shopping Center, staring straight ahead as he stiffly pretended to be an artsy young man browsing the shops.
He deliberately stuck to dim, deserted areas and moved quickly. Everyone was busy with their own affairs, so hardly anyone noticed him. Even those who did couldn't make out his face.
Once back at the hotel, Xie De let out a long breath and set his guitar case and coat together. A little excited, he said, "Nine hundred yards! 455, nine hundred yards, and a headshot in one shot. My marksmanship keeps getting better. There's no way he survived