Ye Tianming looked like a master of martial arts, his eyes narrowing slightly, his brow furrowed, and a chilling expression on his face. He felt neither sorrow nor joy, like the mask of a demon. Without a word, he simply kept striking.
With every blow he landed, a body flew through the air.
Those ruthless and vicious thugs now seemed like mere scarecrows in his eyes. Not a single one of them could even lay a finger on him; on the contrary, every single strike from Ye Tianming was swift, precise, and lethal.
Chapter 145