Gunman.
The World's Number One Spear.
Both the man and his spear bore the name Black Crow.
His spear and Sikong Jian's White Sparrow Spear were a pair, one male and one female.
Among all weapon wielders in the world, none could surpass him.
He had once matched weapons with White Garment for a hundred exchanges without falling behind.
Little White Tiger was now certain that this man was Sikong Jian's supposedly deceased master.
"I don't care about these two brats, but if you're killing people in the Dragon Kingdom, that's my business."
Gunman stood proudly atop the butt of his spear, arms folded across his chest, and laughed with arrogant disregard. "You've all overlooked something."
"What?"
"Everyone calls White Garment the guardian of the Dragon Kingdom... that's because he's the strongest. It doesn't mean the other Nine Awakenings don't fucking love their country."
Gunman unleashed an aura as mighty as a boundless ocean.
An immense pressure loomed over Old Bat and the Pope.
Gunman's spear technique overwhelmed others with sheer force of presence. Put simply, he was willing to risk it all.
Anyone who could wield such a spear technique was naturally arrogant beyond measure. Sikong Jian was the best example.
That bastard had never backed down since his debut. Whether he could win or not, he had at least never been afraid.
The situation had become uncertain again.
Old Eighth and Old Ninth together were roughly equivalent to one Nine Awakenings fighter.
Gunman could at least firmly suppress Old Bat.
With this lineup, it was genuinely hard to say who would win.
The Pope silently withdrew his hand, then asked with a shifting, gloomy expression, "No room to negotiate?"
"Let your mom sleep with me for a night, and maybe we can negotiate." Gunman raised his head defiantly.