บท 502: The Golden footprints

A three-story building on the side of the street collapsed in the violent explosion of the self-destructing truck. The gang members were all wailing and howling.

Xia Pingan continued to move forward in the flames and shock waves of the self-destructing truck. She did not stop for even a moment.

The shock waves and flames from the explosion swept over, but to Xia Pingan, it was like a gentle breeze. The water shield around him rippled slightly, and everything was resolved.

"Who's that?"

"Demonic ghost?"

At this time, the gang members finally saw Xia Pingan, who had passed through the burning flames of the self-destructing truck and the big pit on the ground in front of them. They also saw the turret of the close-range defense cannon in Xia Pingan's hand, the cigar in his mouth, and the cold and mocking expression on his face.

Many people thought that they were hallucinating after taking drugs.