Ye Yu threw his empty pistol to the ground and stood motionless, staring straight at Mo Yao as he flew toward him. The clouds in the sky drifted away, spilling a soft moonlight across the earth.
Seeing the pity in his opponent's eyes, Mo Yao's long-decayed senses began to function. Transitioning from the darkness to the dim light, he finally spotted the silvery-white reflection right before him.
It was not empty space in front of Ye Yu; thin wires were strung through the bushes like a grim reaper waiting to harvest souls, slowly raising a scythe toward Mo Yao.
Chapter 218