Someone died, and the surrounding citizens all watched from a distance, not daring to come closer. Ghost Hand's ferocious strike to kill had shocked everyone present. In no time, many people rushed down from the clubhouse, looking at the body in panic, their glances darting between Ghost Hand and Luo Zheng. Gui Fang approached with a face full of panic and whispered, "Brother, there's been a murder, what do we do?" She was just a young girl who hadn't experienced much of the world and was flustered.
"It's fine, we'll wait for the police," Ghost Hand said unconcernedly, as if it was nothing unusual. To the people of the National Blade Special Team, killing was just like eating a meal, something they had grown accustomed to and numb to. On the battlefield, it's either you kill me or I kill you. To survive, one must kill the other.
"Really, it's okay?" Gui Fang asked in a panic, "I'll call Dad."