Bullets raked the outskirts of the Boling Cui clan's estate, mowing down the guards on the perimeter as simply as chopping vegetables. Trails of fresh blood spurted into the air as they were all shot dead.
Simultaneously, the iron-masked men launched their assault, clashing with the outer guards of the Boling Cui clan. In the eyes of the clan's men, these assailants were roughly on par with them in skill. But for some reason, they found themselves breathless, their limbs heavy. Their speed, their reactions—everything was a fraction slower than the iron-masked men. The next moment, all they could do was die under the cold steel of their enemies' blades.
The surviving guards turned pale with terror and hastily fell back. As the iron-masked men advanced, the men of the Boling Cui clan were forced back step by step.
Trailing behind the attackers, Wu Tian and Cui Chong watched the battle unfold. Cui Chong was utterly shaken.
