The Indian man, pitch-black in complexion, was tall and burly. Yet at this moment, having had his wrist snapped by Tian Yangsheng and then being hoisted by his throat, he couldn't even manage a scream. Like a chick waiting for the butcher's knife, he lacked any capacity to struggle or resist.
Suddenly, three more of the dark-skinned Indians burst out from within the hostel. Each held a handgun, aiming straight for Luo Yuchen and his group. They were standing about ten meters away from them at the hostel entrance.
Just as the Indians moved to open fire, the Prince shifted. In a blur, he left afterimages in the air. Before the guns in the Indians’ hands could be raised, the Prince was already before their eyes.
Chapter 143