Wang Hu's pupils contracted. Fang Jian is dead? With his soul utterly scattered?
Wang Hu was so terrified his blood ran cold, and he instinctively backed away from Lin Mu. When had he ever witnessed such a thing? A living, breathing person had been turned to ash in the blink of an eye. If he told anyone about this, no one would believe him. Wang Hu's scalp tingled. Such a method... it's simply divine.
"This is the price for offending me," Lin Mu said lightly.
His calm tone carried an immense, oppressive weight. Wang Hu's body began to tremble violently. No one is fearless in the face of death, and he was certainly no exception.
"Spare me!" Wang Hu knelt on the ground and begged loudly.
