Xiao Yi's amused gaze swept slowly across the scene. When he saw the three great clans facing off against the Black Sand Alliance, the smile at the corners of his mouth deepened.
Yet when his eyes finally settled on Xiao Yan in the crowd, that smile froze instantly, replaced by a hint of danger.
Xiao Yan was tightly clutching a strangely shaped metal object.
Those sleek lines, that precise construction, and that distinctive single-shot design-it was the Thompson Contender he had painstakingly cobbled together and treasured like a precious jewel! The brat had actually sneaked out his prized possession while he was away!
A nameless fury flared in his heart. Xiao Yi remained expressionless. With a mere thought, the swamp dragon beneath his feet, which had only just settled down, seemed to receive a command. It abruptly raised its head and opened its great mouth of sludge.
With a muffled poof, a mud ball the size of a human head shot out as swiftly as thunder before the ear could catch it, tracing a precise arc and striking Xiao Yan square in the chest.
Poor Xiao Yan had been staring openmouthed at Xiao Yi's spectacular entrance. Before he could react, the tremendous force knocked him head over heels. He landed hard on his backside, then fell face-first into the mud.
Xiao Yan scrambled awkwardly to his feet and was just about to unleash a torrent of curses when an enormous bubble rose from the mud beside him with a series of gurgles.
The bubble wobbled upward and, under Xiao Yan's astonished gaze, burst with a soft pop. An angry voice rang clearly from within.
"Don't steal my things!"
The voice was not loud, but it carried suppressed fury. Xiao Yan hastily wiped his face. Paying no attention to the mud