The first floor of the Gills Alliance with hundreds of people.
Quiet like a morgue.
No one spoke, even their breathing was constantly restrained.
Afraid that loud breathing might draw attention.
Branigan Sinclair is dead.
Died swiftly and decisively.
Didn't even leave any last words, just mysteriously died.
It seems that a blood hole in his forehead was declaring his death.
Proving he was truly dead, not faking it.
Merrill Caldwell flicked her sleeve, shaking off the lime powder, and incredulously looked at the back in front of her.
She said nothing, for the time to speak would come naturally.
Trent Marsh?
If you want to conquer Boulevard, you must first ask if Merrill Caldwell agrees.
Starting today, she will guard the Northwest for this man, guard these Boulevard mountains!
All martial artists of Boulevard should remember the name Julius Reed.
Remember the king here.
"Kill." Merrill Caldwell opened her mouth, lightly uttering a word.
Swoosh!
