"Long live Zhong Yihan !!"
"Yihan!"
"Woohoo!"
In the mountains, everyone cheered wildly, and even the students whose mouths were blocked were excitedly inexplicable.
Zhong Yihan looked at Wu Sikong, who was split in half by his waist.
The powerful vitality of the fallen made Wu Sikong still not dead, but his face did not have any painful expression, but a relief.
"Why?"
Zhong Yihan asked suddenly.
Wu Sikong glanced at him and said nothing.
Zhong Yihan rushed forward, grabbed his shoulder, and said loudly, "Why ?! You can't lie to me with that knife! I can feel that there is no trace of killing in this knife at all! What the hell is this? What do you want to do ?! "
The cheering crowd stopped immediately, and everyone looked at Zhong Yihan and Wu Sikong inexplicably.
Wu Sikong still ignored him, but slammed his fingers and exclaimed: "In the name of my god, all the barbarians, all leave the totem pole, and then kill all the kind you see!"